Tag Archives: Holy Spirit

Old Stone Well Farm

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The Winds of Kindness

The winds were blowing here in Vermont, making Pentecost even more of a reality for me. As I watched the tall grass sway in my back pasture and laughed wondering if my chickens would take flight, I thought about the power of the Holy Spirit that God sent to his followers. It, too, came like a rush of mighty wind.

But as I think about how the Spirit empowers us to do incredible things, this year, I think the most incredible thing we can do is to speak more words of kindness. And, yes, that will indeed take help from God’s Spirit.

So, come. Join me. Feel the Pentecost winds and then have a seat as I share one of my many finds from last week’s trip to the Ephrata Cloister in Pennsylvania.

Worship at Old Stone Well Farm

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Pentecost: Moved By the Spirit

Pentecost has often been marked by high winds for me. This year, though, it’s been still…just subtle breezes every so often. In the stillness, though, I felt something powerful — a reminder that God’s Spirit is always among us no matter what we are feeling. So join me today at the farm as we celebrate Pentecost together, discovering what it means to be moved by the Spirit and how we can be more attuned to that Spirit. Perhaps a little forest bathing would help. (Intrigued? Click on the video below.)

Ezekiel 37:1-14

The hand of the Lord came upon me, and he brought me out by the spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. 2 He led me all around them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry. 3 He said to me, “Mortal, can these bones live?” I answered, “O Lord God, you know.” 4 Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. 5 Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath[a] to enter you, and you shall live. 6 I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath[b] in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord.”

7 So I prophesied as I had been commanded; and as I prophesied, suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. 8 I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them; but there was no breath in them. 9 Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath:[c] Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath,[d] and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.” 10 I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude.

11 Then he said to me, “Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.’ 12 Therefore prophesy, and say to them, Thus says the Lord God: I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people; and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. 13 And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. 14 I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act, says the Lord.”

Acts 2:1-4

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. 2 And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. 3 Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. 4 All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

This Way of Life: A Little White Church Lenten Journey

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A Shamrock Surprise

It’s been one of those days where everything seems to be getting done at a snail’s pace. There are things weighing on my heart, matters swirling in my head and, of course, stuff on my plate calling for my attention. Extra strong coffee isn’t breaking through this haze nor is the over the counter medicine helping to remedy the sniffles and coughs from allergies that appear along with the buds on the trees.

Between the sniffling and coughing and replying to emails and planning Holy Week worship, I wonder: Why can’t the peace of God, which passes all understanding, be something that never leaves us? Why is peace so fleeting?

I have moments where I feel God’s presence. These moments often come when I am walking up to the top of Sofie’s Hill, named so for my Bernese Mountain dog who, in her younger years would run so quickly up the grassy slope to this beautiful spot where one can drink in the views of Vermont’s Green Mountains.

There we sit together, me in deep prayer; Sofie in…perhaps deep prayer, but I think her thoughts are more about the biscuit she will soon get that is still sitting in the pocket of my sweatshirt.

But then it happens.

As soon as I descend from that mountain top (more like hilltop) high, the peace evaporates as I begin thinking less about God and more about the day’s agenda before me.

Peace evaporates when I forget God knows my agenda better than I do.

Peace evaporates when I forget God has the answers to the questions and the solutions to the problems.

Peace evaporates when I insist on focusing on the weeds around me rather than seeing the beautiful new life sprouting forth out of adversity.

The peace I long for is not steadfast because I am not steadfast in my trust of God. Thankfully, though, God is steadfast and always trying to remind me in many ways that He is there even when I am not.

I got a beautiful reminder of that this morning.

I noticed the Christmas cactus on my desk was looking a little shabby. Luckily this cactus is a hearty, low maintenance kind of a plant suited for someone like me with a brown thumb. Still, as hearty as it is, even I knew it needed some TLC.

As I parted its wilting leaves in order to get the water directly into the soil, I noticed something hidden underneath. There sprouting forth was not just one but two clovers. Their three heart-shaped leaves quickly brought to mind the legend of St. Patrick and how he used the clover (or shamrock) to teach about the trinity with each leaf representing Father, Son and Holy Spirit.imgres

I couldn’t believe my eyes that underneath what seemed to be dying leaves were these clovers growing. What I saw staring back at me was God’s way of saying to me, “I am here, even when you can’t see or understand. I am here.”

That’s when it happened.

Peace washed me over as I realized what I might see on the surface is not what God sees. That always there is hope growing in the midst of what seems hopeless. There is always an answer and always a solution. God is always there and the peace I long for is always there too.

I just need to clear the negativity and the gunk I allow to weigh me down in life so that what is revealed is the beauty of God—the blessed trinity—always there in my life.

This Way of Life Lenten Challenge: If peace seems fleeting in your life, take a step back and re-examine your life. Is God in all things or not?

This Way of Life Lenten Journey

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A Little White Church Lenten Journey

When the cold of winter turns into the bleakness of mud season, hope is hard to find. Yet beneath the hard ground and in the midst of life’s muddiness, there is always new life waiting to bloom. Join Pastor Donna as she reflects on the transforming power of Lent and takes you on a 40-day journey of discovering God’s message of hope and renewal that she discovered in a little white church and in the hearts of the people who called that church “home.”

Day 3: Go Now in Peace

There’s a song the little white church would sing every week at the very end of worship. It was called “Go Now in Peace.” I had never heard of this song before nor have I ever worshipped or worked in a church in which a choral benediction was sung. So the first time I experienced this choral benediction it was indeed quite memorable.

It was the Sunday I preached for the congregation as their prospective new minister. Boy was I nervous. Would they like me? Would they be pleased with my sermon? I knew it really wasn’t about me but about God’s Spirit at work leading us both to the right partnership, but still, you can’t stop that tape playing in your head that they are looking at you and not beyond to what God is leading them to. Anyway, I gave the blessing and as the music began to play for the choral benediction, I walked to the back of the sanctuary. That’s when it happened. A divine moment. I stood there the soon-to-be next minister of the little white church and I looked out at people that God was bringing into my life to lead and to learn from. I stood and listened to their voices sing a song I was not familiar with.

Go now in peace. Never be afraid. God will be with you each hour of every day. Reach out to others…

I watched and listened to them sing this song that many knew by heart. And I wondered. How many really believed the words they were singing? Were they afraid? Did they know God was there each hour of every day? Were they reaching out to others?

I wondered about these people I had yet come to know, had yet to be there in their griefs, had yet to be their in their joys, had yet to journey with them in faith.

But as I listened I felt something there in the sanctuary. I felt a strange movement of the Spirit I had never felt before. It was as soft as breeze, but I realized then the Spirit was just beginning to move and among these people something powerful was going to emerge. Voices that were singing hesitantly were on the verge of singing boldly.

The vote to become the next pastor of the little white was unanimous and I walked back to the front of the sanctuary that God knew I—an avid lover of 18th architecture—would appreciate. I looked out at those gathered in the colonial era white wooden pews still with the doors attached and lifted my hands to give the blessing. As I did I felt that gentle breeze of the Spirit pick up a bit more.

“Go now in peace. Know He will guide you in all you do,” I said, borrowing from the choral benediction that was a little white church tradition.

Our ministry had began and as days turned into weeks that turned into months that turned into years, the Spirit’s breeze kept blowing and leading and waking hearts up. And then it happened.

One Sunday in Lent as the little white church sang their traditional choral benediction, I had yet another divine moment—a moment that almost brought tears to my eyes.

I heard their voices sing as I never heard before. This time I clearly heard voices that were stronger in aith and voices that were singing the words, “Reach out to others…” with conviction and passion. The words weren’t just words sung by rote. The words were being sung out of the experiences that we had together, experiences of growing in our faith together and experiences of really reaching out beyond our own doors and into the community. The words had come to life.

I stopped singing at one point and just stared at the cross on the communion table, listening to the strength and conviction that was coming out of the voices of the many men and women and children gathered for worship.

“God,” I said, “Can you hear them? Can you hear the belief in their voice? Can you hear the strength? Can you hear the love? Can you hear the determination to really reach out to others so all the world can see? God can you hear your children coming alive by your Spirit moving among them?”

I then lifted my eyes from the cross and looked over at all who were singing and noticed not only were their voices strong, but their faces were transformed. They were shining. Some people had their eyes closed, some had their eyes lifted up towards heaven and one man in my congregation did what he has done since the first day I came to the little white church. At the moment in the song when we sang, “God will be there, watching from above…” this man, in true devotion to God, always lifted his hands up towards heaven.

I carry this memory close to my heart because whenever I find myself wondering where God is or questioning the movement of the Spirit in my life because I haven’t felt any gentle breeze against my skin, I can close my eyes and go back to the little white church and hear the voices of God’s children sing.

I can remember how I was priviledged to see God’s Spirit breathing new life into tired bones and how words once sang by rote became words of transformation and new life.

God will be with you each hour of every day…

In this season of Lent, as we are invited to enter into the wilderness, let us not be afaid. Rather as we walk let us become aware of how closely God watches over us and how wonderfully God leads us. And may the song you sing along the way be sung with newfound strength, love and conviction.

Go now in peace. Never be afraid. 


God will go with you each hour of every day. 


Go now in faith, steadfast, strong and true. 


Know He will guide you in all you do. 


Go now in love, and show you believe. 


Reach out to others so all the world can see. 


God will be there watching from above.


Go now in peace, in faith, and in love.

 

This Way of Life Lenten Challenge: Is your walk with God drudgery? Are you tired? Are you wondering where is this power of the Spirit you hear about? Whatever you do, don’t stop walking. Don’t stop singing. Challenge yourself this day to take one more step in faith and take it without any fear, trusting God all the way. For God does go with you each hour of every day.

A Holy High Five

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It was one of those Sundays where I stood in the narthex in what I’ve come to describe as my “post-preaching daze”—a state of mind in which the adrenaline of the preaching high wears off and I stand there shaking hands while all the time thinking about the following: how the end of the sermon could have ended differently, was the point I was trying to make made, did I really put the Holy Spirit before Jesus once again in my trinitarian benediction and, more importantly, where’s the nearest cup of coffee because, boy, I can use some right now.

On this particular Sunday, though, in my post-preaching daze, I wondered about something else. I wondered where the Spirit was moving among us, because sometimes, just sometimes, God seems to remain silent when you really want to know if what you are doing makes a difference.

So there I stood in my post-preaching daze not expecting much in terms of getting a divine pat on the back or even a holy high five, when two boys came running in from where church school had just been let out. As they made their way over to me I could see they were very excited about something.

Jack, and his younger brother, Tyler, had something in their hands. As they got closer I could see they were holding the white plastic tops to one of those dollar store boxes. Before I could even venture a guess as to what this was all about, they showed me. On the inside of the white lid, in blue marker, was a tracing of their hand with the message, “Place your hand here and we can pray together. God bless you!”

The brothers told me how they put together several shoeboxes for our church’s Operation Christmas Child mission project, going to the store and filling the boxes with gifts for underprivileged children who might not ever feel the generous love of God. The brothers, though, took the shoebox project a step further by inviting the recipient of their box to join them in prayer.

I stood there amazed, dumbfounded and deeply moved. I’ve been talking a lot about the power of prayer and our need to pray more. I’ve said it once, twice, thrice, prayer is the foundation on which anything we do for God needs to be built upon. And now, the youngest among us not only heard, they took action, inviting another child’s hand to “touch” theirs in prayer.

Rendered speechless by the thoughtful act of two boys, I stared at the inside of the lid and slowly placed my hand on top of the one drawn in blue marker.

My wondering as to where the Spirit of God was moving among us was right there in front of me. I had received my holy high five.

ShoeBoxes