“The Lord protects the simple; when I was brought low, he saved me.” -Psalm 116:6 (NRSV)

Simple? Who’s calling me simple? Well, of course, I am. I am always tempted to get my hackles up whenever someone insults me (not that that happens often, right?), but over the years, I’ve found it easier to yield to the opinions of others. I don’t agree with them, necessarily, but I let others think what they want to think. Their thoughts are like the morning fog that dissipates with the rising sun and warming air. The morning mists may be thick, but I’ve never found them to hold me back. I may have to slow down to a crawl and feel my way, but I can still move forward. The point of this passage, of course, is neither the simplicity nor the complexity of those whom God protects, but the hedge God has placed around the garden and those that God tends within. The ancient Hebrews did not build walls or fences to protect their gardens; they grew thorny hedges. Those hedges grew naturally, protected the garden naturally, and were a bloody nuisance to intruders (like deer or wolves). The image this psalm conjures up is that of a child who has fallen and can’t get up, and rather than abandon her loved one, God stands watch and will make a bloody mess of any wolf that may seek to devour that precious child. Church is, and always has been, the hedge behind which I can grow and bear the fruit God desires. It has been so even more during these never-ending months of pandemic, and shall continue throughout this Advent season.

Gracious God, you surround us with a hedge of protection; your Law does not constrain us, but those who would do us harm. When injured, you stand guard and keep us safe. You bind our wounds and make us to heal. May we also be a healing balm here in this Gilead wherein we stand, this day and always. Amen.
– Fr. Keith Axberg

“Be to me a rock of refuge, a strong fortress, to save me, for you are my rock and my fortress.” -Psalm 71:3 (NRSV)

A woman named Barbara Duriau from Belgium started a Facebook page called “View from my window” in the spring of 2020 where people would post a picture of the scene from their window. With the stay-at-home orders in place worldwide, the group exploded in size. It was not uncommon to see someone’s view from rural South Africa followed by the view from someone’s Manhattan apartment, and the group is up to 2.7 million members now.

I have been following the group since at least April 2020 and it is a highlight of my day to see where people are posting from daily. (I have even had an image appear on the page depicting the view of Little Mountain from my bedroom.) Even though I am vaccinated, I still stay pretty close to home due to work and also a desire not to expose myself to unvaccinated people, so having a way to visit other places is wonderful.

The best part of the Facebook page these days is hearing the stories of how people have ended up in the areas where they currently live. Many people have overcome serious events in their lives, lived all over the world, or are currently dealing with adverse circumstances. The positivity displayed in everyone is encouraging, and it is allowing me to very quietly see the world from the fortress of my room.

Thank you, Lord, for the ways in which you bring people together on social media. Help us to remember that we belong to each other, and we depend on each other to keep each other safe. Amen.
-Jen McCabe

“But I am lowly and in pain; let your salvation, O God, protect me.” -Psalm 69:29 (NRSV)

I have an autoimmune disease called fibromyalgia. It manifests in joint pain that moves around my body (and sometimes appears in the middle of my shins), fatigue, and is comorbid (found simultaneously) with conditions like migraines, IBS, and depression. Flare-ups are rare for me (thanks to gabapentin), but a major one hit after my second COVID vaccine. I had made sure I could work from my bed that day, but the pain was severe, and I was definitely pretty miserable.

One of the hard things about having it is that about half of the medical profession agrees it exists while the other half thinks those doctors are horrible diagnosticians. It is a diagnosis of exclusion, which means that they have to exclude everything else before you get a firm diagnosis. This means bloodwork for some pretty strange things and x-rays to rule out other issues. I was evaluated by an amazing rheumatologist when I moved up here who did one of the thorough rheumatology exams ever (which, ironically, means that I left in a large amount of pain), but alas, he is overworked, so I have gotten pawned off on many different specialists while they all try to figure out exactly whose problem I am.

Because of all of this, I resonate with the psalmist very much. It is hard to be in pain and discomfort while not having any good way to stop it. It brings to mind a story told by the late author Rachel Held Evans. She had horrible eczema as a child and nighttime was the worst for the itching. Vinegar baths made her nauseous from the smell, and she finally asked her dad why Jesus would afflict her this way.

His response was beautiful: “I don’t know why. But I know He loves you.”

I don’t know why I have fibromyalgia (and migraines and IBS and depression and every other phenotypic expression of my genetics), but I know it has nothing to do with whether or not God loves me. This is saving me and saving my faith.

Dear Lord, help us to remember that you do not afflict us with things that cause us pain or discomfort to hurt us. Please be present with us during the hard times in enduring them. Amen.
-Jen McCabe

“By awesome deeds you answer us with deliverance, O God of our salvation; you are the hope of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas.” -Psalm 65:5 (NRSV)

Those who hang out in the choir loft with me on Sunday mornings can tell you that I have the attention span of a goldfish. This is not a bad thing as monitoring the Zoom feed requires me to be checking sound, making sure the correct account is spotlighted, and the recording is happening. The downside is that it makes it really hard for me to focus on worship, and my mind has a habit of going elsewhere. Left up to my own devices, I would probably be doing things like making worship attendance forms during the sermon or editing devotions for whatever devotional book I happen to be working on at the time instead of paying attention. It isn’t that I don’t want to pay attention and be in a worshipful mood—I just get really distracted easily.

What is currently saving me in terms of keeping me mildly focused on worship are little things. It could be David Sloat sitting behind me reading the Psalm sotto voce or it might be people-watching from the balcony and seeing people kneel. I am trying to do things like read the Psalm aloud to myself, sing the hymns (if my allergies aren’t messing with my voice and ability to breath), and stand for things where I would otherwise be kneeling if I was in the pews. After worshipping virtually for 15 months, I guess I am very much out of practice with being “present”, but I am getting my bearings back slowly.

One thing that I am also trying to keep in mind as I feel like scolding myself for my mind wandering for the 15th time during worship is that God is not asking for perfection. God is asking me to show up and hang out in the House of the Lord. God speaks to my heart through those bits of psalms that filter through my racing mind and the hymns that are being sung as my brain is focused on letting Keith or Ben know that we need more sound on Zoom. God will meet me where I am instead of expecting me to be in a certain place. Thank heavens for that!

Thank you, Lord, for being patient with me when my mind is wandering and I am distracted by something else going on. Thank you for meeting me where I am instead of where I *should* be. Amen.
-Jen McCabe

“For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation.”-Psalm 62:1 (NRSV)

What do an Internet-connected computer and a propane-fueled firepit have in common? Salvation through maintaining contact with friends and family!

Shortly before the COVID-19 lockdown was even on the horizon, I decided a firepit would add to our backyard ambiance and propane-fueled meant it could be used during burn bans in July and August. I did the research, decided on a highly recommended firepit, and ordered it from Amazon. It was backordered and did not arrive until the end of July – some assembly required. Yes, “some assembly” took several hours, but it was worth it. Now we had a way to invite friends over to socially distance outside around a firepit!!! We have a covered patio and were able to use it throughout the fall and winter. The light and warmth from the firepit were doubled by the warmth of celebrating life with friends.

The computer has also been a lifeline to continuing contact. Zoom allows attendance at church services, the continued meetings of our Haggen coffee group, and our Great Books Discussion Group. We even added a couple of people to our discussion group from distant states! The computer allows frequent contact with our far-flung family, as our sons agreed that one of the two of them would check on us through video chat almost every day. Yes, we missed our planned trip to Glacier National Park and our spring break trip with the grandtwins. But we were able to share our lives with one another in a different and special way.

Friends and family are loving gifts from God, and we have been truly blessed to remain connected throughout this difficult time.

Dear God, we thank you for the blessings of family and friends and the ways that we have been able to connect. Through these connections, we gain glimpses of our “rest in you.” Amen.
-Cathey Frederick