The gift of faithfulness

When life is hard or disappointing, and we feel powerless, discouragement takes root. There are tipping points. But here’s what really takes a toll: because life feels too heavy, we swallow the narrative that there is little to show for our efforts, “So, why even try?” And the task is certainly bigger than our capability, “So, why even try?”
Jesus’ disciples were often discouraged, or frustrated, with life’s heaviness and uncertainty. And, how did Jesus handle this discouragement and disappointment in his disciples? This does my heart good: Jesus didn’t give them a list with instructions. He told them stories (parables). Stories that would encourage and invite them to pray, and to not lose heart. Because sometimes we need stories more than food to stay alive. Stories that remind us what really matters, and allow us to see with our heart.
So. Join me on the patio. Pull up a chair. It’s story time.
“Often, when he came to visit, my grandfather would bring me a present. These were never the sorts of things that other people brought, dolls and books and stuffed animals. My dolls and stuffed animals have been gone for more than half a century, but many of my grandfather’s gifts are with me still.
Once he brought me a little paper cup. I looked inside it expecting something special. It was full of dirt. I was not allowed to play with dirt. Disappointed, I told him this. He smiled at me fondly. Turning, he picked up the little teapot from my dolls’ tea set and took me to the kitchen where he filled it with water. Back in the nursery, he put the little cup on the windowsill and handed me the teapot. ‘If you promise to put some water in the cup every day, something may happen,’ he told me.
At the time, I was four years old and my nursery was on the sixth floor of an apartment building in Manhattan. This whole thing made no sense to me at all. I looked at him dubiously. He nodded with encouragement. ‘Every day, Neshume-le,’ he told me.
And so I promised. At first, curious to see what would happen, I did not mind doing this. But as the days went by and nothing changed, it got harder and harder to remember to put water in the cup. After a week, I asked my grandfather if it was time to stop yet. Shaking his head no, he said, ‘Every day, Neshume-le.’ The second week was even harder, and I became resentful of my promise to put water in the cup. When my grandfather came again, I tried to give it back to him but he refused to take it, saying simply, ‘Every day, Neshume-le.’ By the third week, I began to forget to put water in the cup. Often I would remember only after I had been put to bed and would have to get out of bed and water it in the dark. But I did not miss a single day. And one morning, there were two little green leaves that had not been there the night before.
I was completely astonished. Day by day they got bigger. I could not wait to tell my grandfather, certain that he would be as surprised as I was. But of course, he was not. Carefully he explained to me that life is everywhere, hidden in the most ordinary and unlikely places. I was delighted. ‘And all it needs is water, Grandpa?’ I asked him. Gently he touched me on the top of my head. ‘No, Neshume-le,’ he said. ‘All it needs is your faithfulness.’
This was perhaps my first lesson in the power of service, but I did not understand it in this way then. My grandfather would not have used these words. He would have said that we need to remember to bless the life around us and the life within us. He would have said when we remember we can bless life, we can repair the world.”
(A big thank you to Rachel Naomi Remen for this story from her book “My Grandfather’s Blessings”.)

It begins here: Faithfulness—I choose. This moment matters.
I’ve written many times about my religious upbringing. How creed took center stage. It was all about getting the right answer to the test questions. Knowing the notes, but missing the music.
And it reminds me of the story of the Sunday School teacher with first graders who were acting up. To calm them she said, “Kids, let’s play a game. I’ll describe something to you, and you tell me what it is. Okay? It’s a furry little animal with a big bushy tail that climbs up trees and stores nuts in the winter.” Silence. No one said anything. “Come on,” the teacher encouraged, “You’re a good Sunday School class, you know the right answer to this question. It’s a furry little animal with a big bushy tail that climbs up trees and stores nuts in the winter.” One girl raised her hand. “Emily?” “Well teacher,” Emily said, “it sounds like a squirrel to me, but I’ll say Jesus!”

Here’s our invitation from Rachel’s story above. What does it mean when our creed (“I believe…”) touches the ground where we walk, where we touch hands and hearts and lives? Where our choices do not allow us to look the other way, out of comfort or moral superiority. Where our choices can indeed “repair the world”.
I love the invitation here: the gift, and the power, of faithfulness. The idea of choosing, daily, to put skin in the game. The gift, and the power, of a behavioral framework. A ritual—a liturgy—for faithfulness.
And this week I’ll take with me this prayer, “Dear God, May we honor the quiet courage of those who stay the course. Give us the strength to be brave in our own way, and the wisdom to recognize and celebrate bravery in others. Amen.” (Thank you Maria Shriver)

This Sabbath Moment is a “thank you” to you for your faithfulness. And a reminder that in these days, we need one another. We are on this journey together.
Though the calendar doesn’t say so yet, it is summer where we live. The sun shines, and the garden gives the heart a reason to smile real big.

Quote for our week…
“The best portion of a good man’s life: his little, nameless unremembered acts of kindness and love.” William Wordsworth

BULLETIN BOARD —

Today’s Photo Credit: “Hi Terry, I write to you from Richmond, Virginia where we are blessed to have one of the most beautiful botanical gardens–Lewis Ginter–in the country, a true place for sanctuary. My favorite stroll has become an area of wetlands that boasts one of the largest collection of pitcher plants. They are a carnivorous plant with an odd, yet fascinating appearance. They attract their prey (mostly flying insects) with nectar; the prey falls into their long cavity and drown. They are then eaten using the plants digestive juices. This provides them with the nutrients they need, which are often missing in the poor soil they grow in. After I took this photo, I began to see so many things–the intricate veins and patterns as well as two friends chatting.
God has provided us with such beauty and wonder in our natural world. His true genius is shown to us every day. What a blessing! Thank you, Terry for your daily Sabbath Moment. I begin each day with it, and I’ve learned so many things (intellectually and spiritually) I might never have known! I am so very grateful!” Lori Plumley… Thank you Lori… And thank you to all, I love your photos… please, keep sending them… send to terryhershey.com 

Yes, your gift makes a difference… Donation = Love…
Help make Sabbath Moment possible. I write SM because I want to live with a soft heart; to create a place for sanctuary, empathy, inclusion, compassion and kindness… a space where we are refueled to make a difference. SM remains free.
(Address by check: PO Box 65336, Port Ludlow, WA 98365)

Sabbath Moment Audio — Now is the time
Join us every Wednesday… Audio Sabbath Moment
Letters that do my heart good…
–Every once in a while, you give me exactly what I need.  This morning you did that.  I will open this morning’s post multiple times to mine more thoroughly what you included here.  The links from Mayer’s song are a university level course in faith.   I am so grateful for you. Some stories are too heavy to carry alone. Ron
–Terry, Your writings have been quite powerful of late, but this was the powerful-est of all. I say “God bless you” not as a hope but an affirmation that you are indeed blessed! Bob
–Thank you for this, Terry Hershey. The weight has been heavy, but I think I was born to witness. I can’t turn away, even if it’s for my own well-being. And, yet, I often feel helpless to make a difference in the enormity of it all. I agree that witnessing and believing those who are directly affected are powerful. If I think of my own life experiences, it was being believed by people who truly saw what was happening, that helped to keep my resilience. Years later, I still thank those witnesses any chance I have. I won’t turn away on the pain of others now. I needed this reminder, not because I would have turned away, but because you reminded me that I’m doing something powerful and am not helpless. BTW, a close friend of my family was one of the American service members who liberated the children of Buchenwald and stayed with them for a month until they were able to get to Israel. There were about 1,000 children hidden in the walls because the adults knew that the children were the first to be killed. One of those children was Eli Weisel. I think he was a teenager at the time. The service member was a military chaplain, Rabbi Robert Marcus. He died before my friend was born and she was then named Roberta in his memory. There’s a book written about him called, “Einstein and the Rabbi.” I got to interview the author, Rabbi Naomi Levy and my friend, Roberta. Quite a story. Mara
–This is an awesome Sabbath Moment! I really like the quotes you picked from the various people. Thank you and have a very nice Monday. Memorial Day. Jackie