Tired Camel

Merridee’s is slow this morning. Must be the weather. After a week of spring warmth we’re back to clouds and cold, at least for a day or so. I reluctantly put the top back on my Jeep this morning but let the windows off in case the weatherman was wrong. I just had some coffee with an old friend that I go to church with. It’s hard to believe that I’m old enough to say “old friend”. Cameron, my brother-in-law, is with me this morning. He and Shantel, Jennifer’s sister, and their three kids are in town from St Louis to attend the birth of our newest nephew. Jannell, Jennifer’s other sister, the pregnant one, is scheduled for a c-section tomorrow afternoon (Tuesday). Cameron has brought his PC into an entirely MAC environment and has thrown off the entire ecosystem of Merridee’s. Fortunately there is another guy sitting between us and nobody can tell Cameron is with me. I offered to let him put an Apple sticker on his laptop this morning so he wouldn’t draw attention to himself but he refused.

This morning I read about rest in my prayer book. It was good and I was going to write to you about it. Then I found this poem and thought it said things better than anything I could say. I put my little diddy after the poem if you still feel like reading it.

LIGHTENING THE LOAD

The first thing we have to do

is to notice
that we've loaded down this camel


with so much baggage


we'll never get through the desert alive.


Something has to go.

Then we can begin to dump

the thousand things


we've brought along


until even the camel has to go


and we're walking barefoot


on the desert sand.

There's no telling what will happen then.


But I've heard that someone,


walking in this way,


has seen a burning bush.

-- Francis Dorff, O. Praem.

The scripture for the day was from James 1, the verse about sin being conceived and then growing up into death. My busyness outside of God’s plan, and ignoring Sabbath principles, may be conceived in what seems like innocence, and may even be admired as a strong work ethic. But, if it is born out of vanity and selfish motives, and this work “succeeds”, eventually it grows up to be bigger than life, spinning out of control, consuming me. And when it is fully-grown, and I have given myself over to this pattern of work and I can’t escape it, something in me dies.

On that note-

Rest and blessings,

Jeromy