Mission Moment 7.23.25
Brittany Caldwell, RN
Minister, Natchez, Miss.
I love to tell the story
Of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory,
Of Jesus and His love.
I love to tell the story,
Because I know ’tis true;
It satisfies my longings
As nothing else can do.
I love to tell the story,
’Twill be my theme in glory
To tell the old, old story
of Jesus and His love.
—Katherine Hankey, I Love to Tell the Story
I love antiquing. Whether you call it antiquing, thrifting, shopping consignment or my favorite word for this hobby—junkin’—it gives me life. The junkier the store, the better, because I feel like I’m on a treasure hunt as I dig through bins of random odds and ends, work my way through hangers of children’s clothing or lay out a tablecloth on the floor to see what condition it’s in. Whether I actually leave the store with a single purchase or not doesn’t matter; it is the opportunity to peruse these items—each one unique and each one with a story to tell—that saves my life on the days when my own story feels like it’s going nowhere.
My most recent purchase was for a wedding shower I was hosting. I went to my favorite “vintage market” (i.e. junk store) in search of a recipe box. I found an old, ornately carved, wooden box buried under layers of placemats in a China cabinet. When I opened the box, there were a few things inside: a button in the shape of a bee, a lock that clearly had been used to lock the box once upon a time and a card that said, “Happy anniversary to the one who completes me. Love, Joe. June 10, 1942.” There were also several pieces of torn paper which, when I pieced them back together, said “Happy Easter to my beautiful and sweet wife. I love you. Love, Joe.”
I asked the owner of this particular booth about the box and she said that she had found it at an estate sale and just couldn’t bring herself to dump out the contents. They seemed meaningful, and it felt wrong to part them from the box. When I got home, I painstakingly glued the bee and the lock inside the box, then “mod-podged” the two notes to the lid. It felt like a sacred act. This was someone’s story, someone’s love story, and it was about to be part of a new love story of a couple for whom I cared a great deal. The next day, when I gifted it to the happy couple, the bride cried, telling me that the couple’s one-year anniversary would fall on next Easter. She felt blessed to be a part of the continuation of this story. (Try to buy that at Target!)
Perhaps my penchant for old things with stories comes from my love of the “old, old story, of how a Savior came from glory, how he sought me, and bought me, with his redeeming blood.” In Luke 1, the author writes: “Many have undertaken to draw up an account of the things that have been fulfilled among us, just as they were handed down to us by those who from the first were eyewitnesses and servants of the word. With this in mind, since I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, I too decided to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught.”
The Gospel is the greatest story ever told, relayed to us over the course of two millennia by the gospel authors and by a whole community of believers who continued to tell the story to one another. And the story is not yet done; we get to be part of the continuation of that story, a story of love and sacrifice, the conquering of sin and death and of resurrection and hope and new life. It is our sacred calling to learn the story and to preach that story in word and in deed.
May we take the time to painstakingly preserve our story, so that it might continue to be told again and again, generation after generation.
Pray, Practice, Ponder
Today, ponder how you preserve your story. Do you write or journal? Do you remember important people and moments in photographs sprinkled around your home? Do you collect trinkets or other items of personal or sentimental value? Consider how you claim and celebrate your story and reflect on how your story intertwines with God’s story of the healing of the world.
Giving the Jesus Way
United Christian Ministries is in need of spaghetti sauce and pasta.
To donate items, please drop them off at UCM’s building at 191 Skyland Drive. Thank you!
Summer Picnic
Let’s invite everyone— EVERYONE—to join us at Deep Creek on Sunday, August 17, from 4:00 to 8:00 p.m. for a wonderful time of friendship and feasting (covered dish). This is a terrific way to introduce people to our congregation. We will restart our WEEKLY meals on Wednesday, September 3 (which is the Wednesday following Labor Day).
1st Explorers Summer Camp
1st Explorers Summer Camp
Summer Midweek Meals
July’s midweek meal is Wednesday, July 16 at 5:30 p.m. ($11 per adult & $7 for children grades 1–12). The menu will be: hamburgers (with all the trimmings), baked beans, potato salad, slaw and dessert. Please call the church office by noon on Monday, July 14 to reserve your spot in this time of warm friendship and great feasting. Our August gathering will be Sunday, August 17 (details below).
Save the date!
Our August gathering will be held at the Deep Creek Pavilion on Sunday, August 17,
from 4:00 to 8:00 p.m. Come join in the fun!
We will restart our WEEKLY meals on Wednesday, September 3
(which is the Wednesday following Labor Day).
Giving the Jesus Way
United Christian Ministries is in need of spaghetti sauce and pasta.
To donate items, please drop them off at UCM’s building at 191 Skyland Drive. Thank you!
Mission Moment 7.9.25
Scarlette Jasper
CBF Field Personnel, Corbin, Ky.
Be still, and know that I am God.
– Psalm 46:10
The activities and spiritual practices that are life-giving to me at this time revolve around nature. I can get out and go hiking or camping and totally disconnect from my electronics. No cell phone, no computer, no radio, no TV, etc. I can just sit and listen to the sounds of God’s creation. I can hear the birds, frogs, crickets, mosquitoes, etc., making a joyful noise into the Lord. I love to be able to hear the ocean or the sound of water rushing over rocks in a nearby stream.
My favorite aspect of being out in nature is sitting by the campfire and listening to the stream or sitting by the lake and feeling the sun on my face and the breeze coming off the water. Those are the times when I feel most connected to God on a very individual and personal level. Those are the times when I can express my joy and revel in the beauty of the Earth that God has created.
Many people can connect with nature. For anyone in ministry, I often recommend taking a walk, planting flowers, listening to the birds, etc., as spiritual practice or a way to experience rest and find peace.
Pray, Practice, Ponder
Today ponder how time in nature brings rest and peace for you. If there is a particular activity you enjoy outside, can you make it a priority in the week ahead?
Mission Moment 7.2.25
Meg Lacy
Staff Chaplain, Children’s Medical Center, Dallas, Texas
“Poetry is a natural medicine; it is like homeopathic tincture derived from the stuff of life itself—your experience.
“Poetry is simply speaking truth. Each of us has a truth as unique as our own fingerprints. Without knowing that truth, without speaking it aloud, we cannot know who we are and that we are already whole. In the most profound way, speaking our truth allows us to know that our life matters… that our suffering, our joy, our fears and our hopes are important and meaningful. One of the best kept secrets in this technically oriented culture is that simply speaking truth heals.”
—John Fox, Poetic Medicine
Over the past few years, I have experienced several significant changes in both my personal and professional life. I have shifted from serving a local church, to becoming trained as a pediatric hospital chaplain. I have made not one, but two cross-country relocations. I have navigated changes in my personal and family relationships. Even my day-to-day schedule and responsibilities are quite different than they were just a few years ago.
One of the things that has helped me stay (mostly) grounded in the midst of all this transition is poem-making. I say poem-making, rather than poem writing, because I am not talking about writing poetry in the traditional sense, in which the goal is to create a beautiful piece of art to share with the world. Poem-making, in contrast, is the practice of writing one’s story, exploring one’s feelings, experiences, hopes, griefs, fears and dreams through the creative process of poetry. The words written may be shared with a close friend or family member, or they may never be shared with another soul. The point is not publication, or elegance. The point is to invite vulnerable reflection and encourage openness to the deep questions and feelings at the core of one’s soul. If I were to name one thing that is saving my life right now, it is poem-making.
I was first introduced to the idea of writing poetry as “medicine” for the soul during my chaplaincy training, through John Fox’s book Poetic Medicine: The Healing Art of Poem-Making. My fellow chaplain residents and I were encouraged to read and write our way through each chapter, using the poems and prompts within as a launching pad for our own writing, to engage with the beliefs, stories, pains and hopes that make up our lives.
This assignment was twofold. First, as budding spiritual caregivers, it was intended to help us understand our own stories at a deeper level so we could use our stories to connect with those we encounter in the hospital each day. Second, it was a way to teach us about the process of emotional and spiritual healing and how creativity can be a conduit for our wholeness.
For me, poem-making is a deeply spiritual practice. Poem-making helps us listen to ourselves and reflect on our stories. It helps us touch our pain, and also our strength and resilience. It helps us invite God into the places within that need healing, and to pay attention to God’s presence and movement in our lives. And it often brings joy and surprise when words of wisdom and truth come spilling out onto the paper that we didn’t even know we had in us.
Pray, Practice, Ponder
Read the following poem by Carrie Newcomer. As you read, listen for the line or phrase that stands out to you. Then use this line to start your own poem—penning a few words with your thoughts and feelings today, exploring why this line resonated with you or how it connects with your story. Remember, your words need not be eloquent. Just honest. Use your poem to invite God into the hidden places within your soul.
I’m Learning to Sit with Not Knowing
Carrie Newcomer, Until Now: New Poems
I’m learning to sit with not knowing.
Even when my restless mind begins jumping
From a worried
What next?
To a frightened
What if?
To a hard edged and impatient
Why aren’t you already there?
I’m learning to sit and listen,
To pat myself on the knee,
Lay my hand on my heart,
Take a deep breath,
And laugh at myself.
To befriend my mistakes,
Especially the ones,
That show me how
I most need to change.
I’m learning to sit with whatever comes
(Even though I’m a planner).
Because so much of this life
Can’t be measured or predicted.
Because wonder and suffering visit
When we least expect
And rarely in equal measure.
I’m learning to sit with
What I might never know
Might never learn,
Might never heal.
I’m learning to sit with
What might waltz in and surprise me,
Might crash into my days,
With unspeakable sorrow
Or uncontainable delight.
I’m learning to sit with not knowing.