Dear Rose Park,
This past Thursday I took Simon and Winnie to meet my mom (or as they call her “Grandma from Holland”) for lunch at Good Earth. After we ordered our food and found a table, a woman approached us and struck up a conversation with my mom. I didn’t know who she was, but after she left my mom had a big smile on her face and then told me this story…
Dear Rose Park,
There’s only twenty-four hours in a day. Some of us wish there were a few more hours so we could get a few more items crossed off our continually growing to-do-list, but there’s only twenty-fours in a day. In short, this is what it means to be human; we are finite creatures with limited time so we have to make choices as to what we prioritize each given moment. Inevitably, sacrifices are required.
Rose Park Family,
Our lives aren’t filled with island vacations or cruises through the Mediterranean. These events might occur but they are the rarity. Instead our lives are filled with walks in the park, singings songs in the car, trips to the doctor and the grocery store, meals around the table, washing the dishes in the kitchen, and then taking out the trash. If our minds and spirits can be aware to the presence of God in the ordinary little things, then we certainly can be aware of His presence in the big things.
Dear Rose Park,
Throughout scripture different literary devices are used to awaken our senses to the presence of God. For example, the Gospel of John is filled with metaphor (e.g. in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God) and many of the prophets are filled with foreshadowing. In the book of Psalms (which is one part of the Biblical Wisdom Literature) we see a particular literary device that is quite rare: an acrostic.
Dear Rose Park,
One of my greatest privileges as a pastor is walking alongside individuals and families as they approach the end of life. It can be tremendously painful and yet tremendously beautiful and poignant when gathered around the hospital bed or living room sofa offering prayers, singing songs, and saying goodbye to a loved one. Given the benefit of hindsight, it’s natural to look back upon your life and give thanks and praise to God for His faithfulness, but perhaps if our eyes are open to the work of the Holy Spirit we don’t have to wait until the end of life to give thanks and praise.
Dear Rose Park,
I love to tell stories, perhaps this is why I enjoy preaching so much. I love sharing the vision, memories, and feelings of a story. I love to tell stories to my kids and friends. Whether it’s the story of how I got a scar when I was younger or the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, I love to tell stories.
Dear Rose Park,
This past Sunday we started a series entitled “A House Built Upon Rock.” It draws inspiration from Christ’s words in the Sermon on the Mount; the house that is built upon rock will endure and withstand the storms. Similarly, the Church when it is built upon the rock of Jesus will be able to endure and withstand any storm. To help us do this, we’ll join with the global church and lean into the guidance of the Lectionary.
Dear Rose Park,
A few nights ago, Simon didn’t feel very well. His nose was a little stuffy and he had a tickle in his throat that wouldn’t ago away. Rather than endure the sounds of him walking back and forth from his bedroom to the bathroom to get a tissue every ten minutes, I thought I’d bring the box of tissues to him. As I tucked him into bed he asked me, “Daddy can you lay with me and tell me a story?” There’s no way I could say no, he had me hook, line, and sinker.
Dear Rose Park,
Within the past week I received two phone calls that varied tremendously. One call was filled with tears, the other with joy. One call was about a funeral, the other about an engagement. The first call was from a beloved member letting me know that her dad passed away, the second was from a friend that I haven’t heard from in almost three years. Though these calls varied in emotion and tone, they both displayed the faithfulness of God in times of sorrow and joy.
