Peace | All is Well

Friday Findings

November 16, 2019 By Shelly Durkee

Friday Findings

I’m a curious soul – with a wide range of nerdy and geeky interests, ranging from space exploration to theological concepts. I often find interesting items when stumbling about on the internet – and on Friday’s I like to share my findings with you!

89 Year-Old Grandmother Visiting All 61 U.S. National Parks

I am a National Parks nerd. I have a National Parks Passport Stamp Book, and I love visiting the parks and historical sites to collect cancellation stamps, but to also see this amazing land, and learn history along the way. As such, any National Parks related articles catch my eye – and this one may be my favorite.

Joy Ryan, an 89-year-old grandmother, and her grandson Brad Ryan, are embarking on a grand adventure, with a goal to visit all 61 U.S. National Parks. Joy had been widowed for 20 years. She lived in a tiny house, and had worked a minimum wage job until her early 80’s, to try to make ends meet. She had never had the opportunity to travel. Her grandson has set out to change that. What an incredible gift, not only from the grandson to the grandma – but vice versa; I am certain that Brad will look back on this trip and discover that he was the one more richly gifted by this unique time with his grandmother. You can follow their journey on Instagram; just search on Grandma Joy’s Road Trip. Read about their journey here: A Grand Adventure

Unique Travel Digs

I have a list (I have lots of lists) of unique places I’d like to travel to – weird places, like road side attractions, and igloo hotels, and underwater restaurants. I recently added several of these alternate lodging options to the list – because, who wouldn’t want to stay the night in a helicopter? The Points Guys have curated a list of 7 Planes and Helicopters that are actually hotels that you can stay in. So – ditch that boring Marriott room, don your pilot jacket, and book one of these cool options: Give Me A Ticket for an Aeroplane

Unloved Animals

Last week, I featured some writing by Randy Alcorn, about the place of animals that we don’t necessarily like or appreciate today, in heaven. Very thought-provoking and interesting perspective, you can find the link to that store HERE.

In the wake of that, I loved reading this piece by Margaret Renkl, and Opinion Writer for the NY Times. It’s a Praise Song, lauding the positive attributes of some of our most unloved animals, such as the opossum, the rat snake, and yes…mosquitoes. Great writing; and along with creating a sense of appreciation for some of our maligned animals, it was also just a fun read: Even Vultures Deserve Some Appreciation

What Should the Church and Sesame Street Have in Common?

Last weekend was the 50th Anniversary of Sesame Street. I have a deep nostalgia and love for Sesame Street – probably because it was “born” the same year that I was. But also because, at an early age, I loved learning – and Sesame Street drew me in with their catchy tunes and loveable characters.

But was was also beautiful about Sesame Street, was that it taught me – us – things about the world, without overtly teaching these things….because they shouldn’t need to be taught. Friendship. Kindness. Empathy. Compassion. Creativity. Racial diversity, Unity. Peace.

Dr. Russell Moore, ahead of the 50th Anniversary celebration, took time to reflect on what Sesame Street has taught us, and what the church should be teaching us, about how life should look, in Christ and in fellowship with one another. Moore quotes a recent line from the New York Times, for Sesame Street’s 40th anniversary: “The world is finally beginning to look the way that PBS show always made it out to be.”

And Moore followed that up, with these words of his own: “What would happen if, whenever our culture saw love or reconciliation or peace, our neighbors said, “This is exactly the way that church always made life out to be?”

It’s an interesting view, and one well worth taking the time to read and ponder: Church and Sesame Street

Why Should I Read Crime and Punishment?

Dostoevsky’s birthday was this past week. He is my favorite dead Russian author, and I wrote a bit about his writings earlier this week, which you can find HERE.

Dostoevsky’s most famous work is Crime and Punishment. Many a student has had to read this, as a part of their literature reading assignments. However, I recently read an article that bemoaned the fact that teacher’s are not adding it to their semester reading lists as frequently in recent years, because it is a challenging read.

And, they are right – it is challenging. But it is so worthy the effort. This 152 year-old book, still addresses themes that we struggle with today.

Open Culture featured an Animated Video, on why we should read Crime and Punishment. Even if you don’t have the time to give it a go, this video is beautifully crafted, and worth watching to get a sense of the overlying scope of the book.

Dwelling Place

March 8, 2016 By Shelly Durkee

Our little house that is a home received a face-lift today.

A gentleman from the dear Methodist church that we rent from, came by and painted the shutters a bright, cheery blue. The color reminds me of the blue sky that I love so much.

I often write about our little home. It is God’s grace to us; a gift given to us when we truly didn’t know where we would live. It allowed us to stay near our own church family, and for the kids to remain in their school districts, during a time of much uncertainty and fear in our lives.

I love this home.

And, we have not just lived here, we have dwelt here.

I think there is a difference between “living” somewhere, and “dwelling” somewhere.

“Dwelling” evokes images of putting down roots, burrowing in, settling down and saying “This is where I belong.”

And, that is what we’ve done. We have dwelt, here in this little 3-bedroom, 1-bath home. We have learned a new way of living within these walls; a new normal that at first felt odd and strange, and terribly unsettling, but now feels–well, normal.

We have laughed much in this living room with its strangely colored walls. We have tried to cook (none of us are very adept at cooking) in this kitchen, and have also played some great games of kitchen soccer as well. We have had long one-on-one and family talks in these bedrooms. We’ve found refuge in them, also, when the tears have come. We’ve celebrated birthdays and good report cards and Navy acceptance calls and job successes and soccer game wins and graduations in this place. And I’ve worked from this worn desk day after day, to provide for my crew.

I love this place. And I love dwelling here.

In fact, in looking up the definition of the word “Dwell”, I found this word listed as one of its synonyms: Be Settled.

My soul and mind settle best, within this dwelling.

A couple of weeks ago, at my dear church–also a place we have dwelt in as refuge and sanctuary–we sang a song by Tommy Walker. The title is Dwelling Place.

I’ve thought long and hard about the lyrics of this song, in the past few weeks. And when we sang it as worship that Sunday morning, I struggled to get through it. The words express something that I have come to discover as truth–and my (and our) only hope: God is our dwelling place. He is my dwelling place.

It is in Him, and Him only, that I am truly settled in both my mind and my soul.

The chorus of this song by Mr. Walker is this:

You’ve been our home
You’ve been our shelter safe
For young & old to generations past
We stand in awe of a God so great
We stand in thanks for your faithfulness
O Lord, you’ve been our dwelling place.

And those are the words I can barely sing, without being overcome.

He has been our home.

He has been our shelter safe.

He is my shelter safe. He is a safe place, in the middle of the dark night, when the walls close in. He is a safe place, when weariness overtakes me and I think that I cannot push forward one more step. He is a safe place, when there are parenting and life decisions that must be made, and I don’t know where else to go. He is a safe place–yes, even when I am struggling with doubts about who He is, and about His goodness! Even then, He is the safe place to take those thoughts and questions and fears.

And, when I truly, truly dwell within the circumference of who He is, I am settled.

Much like I am, within this home. Only more so. Deeper. Certain. Settled.

So, standing in my yard today, looking at my newly-painted-blue-like-the-sky shutters, I am in awe of a God so great.

That He has given us this home.

And, that He is our home. Our dwelling place.

And I stand in thanks.

One thing have I asked of the Lord,
    that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
    all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
    and to inquire in his temple.

⁵For he will hide me in his shelter
in the day of trouble;
he will conceal me under the cover of his tent;
he will lift me high upon a rock.

Psalm 27:4-5

The Hopes and Fears……..

December 24, 2015 By Shelly Durkee

My soul is quiet tonight.

Such moments are rare. This life is full of much that unquiets our souls—

Busy-ness, deadlines, responsibilities.

Diversions, entertainment, culture.

Loneliness, griefs, fears.

Doubts, cynicism, incorrect thinking.

But tonight, as I sit before my Christmas tree with its soft lights and ornaments that hold so many memories, and the flickering candles beside the nativities that hold an honored place on my bookshelves–my soul is quiet.

It’s not Christmas eve, yet. Almost, though. One more day. But I am already eagerly anticipating the stillness of that Silent Night.

Oh, it won’t start out silent. We will start the evening with one of two worship services. In between the two services, there will be snacks, and games, and the traditional “early” gift that each of my crew gets to open on Christmas Eve. There will be laughter; much laughter. There will be silliness, and driving around the neighborhood to look at Christmas lights, and sharing some of our favorite foods–cheese and crackers and cookies and sparkling cider and veggies and dips and chocolate covered pretzels.

Our house will be anything but silent.

But then 11:00 pm will come, and we will pile into cars and drive a very short distance to our church, where we will gather with friends who are really more like family, to share communion together and to sing Silent Night.

And then comes the moment I cherish and long for all year, every year.

Once my crew–all of them–are settled into their beds–usually around 1:00 am–I will sit before my tree, much like I am doing tonight.

But I won’t be at my computer. I won’t have my phone. I won’t have music, apart from the lingering strains in my soul from singing earlier alongside my crew

…..All is calm….All is bright….

And I’ll read the Christmas story in my marked up, falling apart, cried upon ESV Study Bible, and I will anticipate….

Yes, of course I will anticipate the coming morning. The joy of having all of my crew under my roof, to eat cheesy hash browns and cinnamon roll casserole, and to be able to give them each the gifts I have planned and given much thought to and saved for.

But, my anticipation is so, so much deeper than that. It’s a longing….

….a longing for the things of God.

….a longing for God.

….a longing for His coming.

Then, as Emmanuel, God with us. One of us, and yet not one of us. Jesus, the child born of Mary. God’s son, who paid the price for my sins, upon the cross.

And, His coming now–His presence, now. As Emmanuel. God with us. God who does not forsake. God who sees and knows. God who forgives. God, whose grace and mercy are the very life-breath that sustains us.

I long to sense His presence.

I think this longing is captured so perfectly, in this line from the song O Little Town of Bethlehem.

The hopes and fears of all the years, are met in Him tonight.

Yes.

Oh, my soul. There are hopes I have–deep hopes. Hopes that are bound up in the very real-ness of who He is. Hopes that persist, even when rocked by doubts and questions and cynicism. Hopes that settle my soul in joy. Anticipatory joy.

But–o, my soul–there are also fears. Deep fears. Fears that wrap their tentacles around my mind and soul and that try to push out the hope. Fears that wake me, in the middle of the night. Fears that unsettle me. Fears that stretch through all the years. Through many years.

But Christmas—Christmas reminds me that both those tremendous hopes and tremendous fears are met, in Him.

He, alone, is the answer to both.

And, so. Tomorrow night–or really, in the wee hours of Christmas morning, as I sit before the tree and read the words from Luke 2, and I ponder the mystery of it all, and the wonder of it all, my anticipation–my longing–the very cry of my heart, will be these words–also from that same, beautiful old carol:

O come to us, abide with us, our Lord Emmanuel.

Yes. Be near, Emmanuel.

Come quickly.

The Last Note……

August 14, 2015 By Shelly Durkee

Is it well?

Can our souls truly be well? Or, can it be well, truly, with our souls?

My soul is a bit unwell tonight. I’m sure there are various factors–lack of sleep, East Coast/West Coast work travel, out of routines, lack of study/prayer time in the mornings for 4 mornings. In a row. For a few different reasons.

I know that it is well with my soul. I know it, with my mind. But my soul does not know it tonight. There is a disconnect.

There is keen sense of alone-ness that is a bit heavy tonight.

This paragraph, though, by Marshall Segal, is good stuff. A good reminder–the alone-ness is not forever. Our greatest disappointments, our greatest losses–whether it be people, or stability, or security, or things sacred–whatever our greatest losses, they are transient–light and momentary–though in the moment, they certainly do not seem that way. But they are. They are, because of what is to come. Segal’s words; they are solid words–words I intend to keep and return to again, I suppose:

Now, the last note in every loss is joy, because nothing — no news, no one, no event, no loss — can take Christ and his love from me. Not even death. When I close these eyes for the very last time, that moment of greatest, deepest loss will be, “Gain.” And Lord haste the day when my faith shall be sight. We can have peace, and faith, and even joy when we lose everything, because we never lose everything. Regardless of what happens here on this earth, we’ll spend eternity enjoying the God who became like us, gave his life for us, rescued us from our sin, and delivers us to a full and never-ending life.

Even when we lose everything, or even when it seems as thought we have lost much, “we never lose everything.”

This is what enables us to rest assured that our souls are well, even when they do not seem to be. Truly they are, because He is.

He is real.
He is the God that sees and knows.
He is the God that forgives.
He is. So many more things, that I’m too tired to numerate right now. He is—is enough.

Haste the day, God, when this floundering, failing faith is sight.

The last note, in any loss, is joy. Grant us that, God. And, the ability to recognize it, when you do, in this life. And the patience to wait, as we long for the day, when we will no longer need to recognize joy as such, because joy will be made manifest in the spending of eternity worshiping you. It will no longer be something that is a shadow or echo or reflection of what is to come, because it will be. Because You are.

There will be a day……

Psalm 38:22:

Make haste to help me,
O Lord, my salvation!