Packed Bags

Her bags were packed.

A new adventure awaited this world traveler. She was ready to go. That is, until her doctor told her she had stage 4 cancer. Within weeks, she was gone. Hauntingly, I was sitting in the church waiting for her funeral to begin on the day she had been scheduled to set sail. I couldn’t help but think she still set sail but this time on a voyage unlike any other - the one each of us will eventually make.

It’s one thing to say we’ll sail beyond the horizons of our lives, and another to live our lives grounded in that truth. We don’t live with our bags packed. We say unnecessary things and don’t say the things that matter. We spend our time and attention on things that will never fit in our bags, things that we’ll need to leave behind. As a famous pastor puts it, our lives are “temporary assignments,” and to see them as such changes our aspirations, relationships, and purposes.

I’ve reached the stage of life when there are more days behind me than ahead. Like my friend, I know there’s a great journey ahead. Remembering that, living in and through that, is bound to change the way I make my way through this temporary journey. The image of my friend’s bags packed sitting by the door is all the inspiration I need for a new year.

She was ready. I want to be ready. I have whatever time left to pack my spiritual bags. I need to prepare to go from one voyage to another, one adventure to another, one life to another.

Christmas 2025

When the song of the angels is stilled,

When the star in the sky is gone,

When the kings and princes are home,

When the shepherds are back with their flock,

The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost,

To heal the broken,

To feed the hungry,

To release the prisoner,

To rebuild the nations,

To bring peace among brothers (and sisters),

To make music from the heart.

Howard Thurman (1899-1981)

Advent 4: Candles in the dark

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.” JOHN 1:5

When I lit the candle, I became more aware of the dark. Despite the sermons I’ve heard this season, the meditations I’ve read, that single moment delivered the Advent message I most needed to hear.

As I write, it’s the shortest day of the year. There’s more darkness than light, but it also marks the moment when that all begins to change. Light begins its crawl back to its rightful prominence. It reminds me of what John wrote about darkness not being able to consumed the light. Although the short days feel like a flicker, the darkness only reminds me of light’s importance.

Last night I went and spoke at the local rehab center. Looking at the weary faces and glossy eyes, I was overwhelmed by the sadness before me. Darkness wears masks. As we sat together, laughs broke through, people smiled and nodded while we spoke of a not-too-distant hope. It was only a flicker, but when surrounded by the darkness it burned bright.

Watching the news these days is particularly difficult. Darkness seems to be everywhere I look and it’s shrouding the things I love about our country, and the friendships I treasure, most. The promise of “peace on earth and good will to all” sounds like a cruel joke when heard in concert with greed and disdain for others. Turning off the TV, my phone rings. My daughter wants to have me over for dinner and a movie. My starving soul is also offered a meal.

I can’t control the darkness no matter how hard I try. All I can do is light a candle. All I can do is change my focus. Maybe, just maybe, that will be enough.