Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;

Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

- Strong Son of God, Immortal Love, Alfred Tennyson

This is the opening of Tennyson’s prayer, In Memoriam, in which he explores faith and hope in reaction to the doubt and loss he experienced when he lost a close friend.  The beauty of this poem is the way he leans into the promise of God’s providence in the midst of his loss.  In Memoriam, originally titled The Way of the Soul, is an immersive exploration of finding hope. 

I find myself pulled into prayer almost constantly as news of what is happening in Ukraine comes to me over the car radio, on evening television, in articles, and on social media feeds. Yard flags, lapel pins, and even the lights on our taller buildings here in west Houston offer yellow and blue reminders of what is happening halfway across the world. One cannot help but become emotional when seeing scared children or hearing accounts of people who have lost everything due to the war. Like many of you, we have made donations and hope to discern more that can be done.

Among other things, we discussed this quote in adult Sunday school this past Sunday:

One day a little girl sat watching her mother working in the kitchen. She asked her mummy, “What does God do all day long?” For a while, her mother was stumped, but then she said, “Darling, I’ll tell you what God does all day long. He spends his whole day mending broken things.” - Festo Kivengere

I believe it is natural to have an unspoken inclination to think that God is busy. Another way to express this is to think that God is too busy to worry about me. There is so much going on. The war in Ukraine is certainly in the news and on our minds and it is of the utmost importance that we pray for the people in harms way. We could probably come up with a pretty long list of things that should take precedent over our personal needs and worries. The problem with this sentiment is the assumption that the amount of care available is finite. To take it one step further, care is a pretty inadequate euphemism for love.

I was amazed to discover how many Maren Morris songs I knew when my family went to the rodeo on Tuesday night. My daughter is a fan which is why, when we were offered tickets by a friend, we jumped at the opportunity to take her to the concert. I knew at least the chorus to at least half of the songs she sang…which is remarkable because in order to write this Spirit Shot article, I had to look up her name to make sure I had it right. Either way, I have not been able to get the catchy hook “Baby, why don’t you just meet me in the middle?” out of my head since.

I often imagine the very early roots of Mardi Gras in New Orleans. The desire to celebrate one last bit before spending several weeks in humble preparation for the holiness of Easter seems like a natural inclination. There is also something beautiful in recognizing that the transition to Ash Wednesday and Lent is ever eminent in that celebration. The fun times roll for sure, but in context, the party isn’t the point. The first time I heard that the streets of New Orleans are completely shut down at midnight on Shrove Tuesday I was amazed at how seriously the transition was taken.

Friends, in regard to what is transpiring in Ukraine and in anticipation of the start of Lent, I invite you to join me in praying for two particular kinds of peace.

First, join me in praying for peace among those in power. The hope of peace among nations is a hope in which unnecessary aggression, violence, and suffering is not visited upon people who have no reason to be made to suffer. The upending of day to day life toward suffering is fundamentally incongruous with how people are meant to share this life and world. Anything that can be done at this time to stop unnecessary suffering, especially of an attacked people, should be undertaken. And so, we pray for peace among the nations as carried out by those with power.

Aunt Becky and Uncle Bill flew in this week to attend Holy Spirit School’s Grandparents and Special Friends Day this week. The excitement of visitors and the joy our kids have of showing them around is something we have been missing until this moment of waning pandemic concerns. Many of these amazing and once-taken-for granted moments seem to be surfacing. Our vestry met fully in person for the first time this week (I will not miss the awkwardness of zoom meetings). We have our Blessings in a Backpack annual fundraiser tonight. Many of our ministries are coming back like first Sunday breakfasts and Prayer Shawl gatherings. I find I am breathing a bit easier and rediscovering a once well-honed ministerial rhythm.

My wonderful wife has somehow managed to keep track of all the art projects our kids did when they were little, some of which are holiday themed. This time of the year all sorts of pink and red heart crafts make an appearance around our house. I am currently looking at a wonderful piece created when Neil was 14 months old. Christmas ornaments and painted eggs also make an appearance in the appropriate seasons. I see pictures of my little ones from just a few years ago and marvel at how much they’ve grown.