The concluding session of the Men's Retreat this past weekend focused on work, feeling a call to a particular kind of work, and what is God's will regarding the work we choose. Doug Wysockey-Johnson, our leader, pointed out that most people do not see God in the work equation. God calls people to church vocations, ministry, etc., or human service vocations, medicine, nursing, teaching; but God is not involved in the vocational choose for most of us.

And yet maybe God is, or could be.

I believe that there is a family of vocations that tend to be "right" for a given person. Some people have excellent people skills, are visionaries, are great with detail and numbers, and so forth. Most of  us bring a unique blend of these strengths.  And to know them is very important. Books like "What Color is Your Parachute" help. Reflecting on what we feel passionate about helps. Discerning the activities that cause you to feel energy or to feel tired help. Quiet meditative time alone (with God) helps. All of this prompts the speaking of the soul and a sense of direction.

First Corinthians 13 is certainly one of the most popular chapters in the Bible. We all love to hear verses 4 through 7; "LOVE is patient and kind; LOVE is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. LOVE does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong but rejoices in the right. LOVE bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things endures all things."

Paul did not mean these verses for weddings or for poetry, but rather for living every day life.

In the Gospel of John there is a wonderful Easter evening story. The disciples were frightened and protected themselves in a locked room. The story has two parts.

Part 1, "When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you."

Part 2, "A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you."

Easter is past. It was two days ago. We can look at it as an event, and now life can return to normal. That would be tragic.  Easter is not an event we get over, like Thanksgiving or Valentine's Day. Easter is the alive, spiritual presence that empowers our lives, enables us to see a new spiritual dimension,  changes our values systems, and, as the Bible says, "opens our eyes."

Yes, the ordinary still happens, the tragic still happens, the boring still happens.

We just came from St. Barnabas Hospital. We got a call earlier today that our good friend Ethel was in a coma and was slipping. She might die before I finish writing this, or tonight, or tomorrow... it will be soon. 

My wife Judy and I spent some time with her husband Julie and their grown daughter and son. As we talked, Ethel lay in bed laboring for each breath. Many memories. She came to work with me at the Counseling Center in 1975. A great support. When there was a problem, she had the positive solution. When a meeting got tense, she was the easing humor. We watched their kids grow , marry and become parents. We watched her husband's medical practice grow.  Many memories.

It was about 6:00 a.m. A hint of  early morning red in the distance promising a rising sun. Huge mountains on both sides of the boat. Snow caps off to the left. It was chilly, kind of misty, and unbelievably beautiful. Our cruise ship was turning into Doubtful Bay in Milford Sound, the fjords of south eastern New Zealand. It was untouched, unspoiled, primeval. No human being had ever walked over those mountains. The dark green was too thick to get through. It was rocks, waterfalls, glaciers, pure creation and quiet.

A song started going through my head... "Morning has broken, like the first morning..." The beauty was unreal and sacred. For an hour or more we sailed up the fjord in water that was nearly a mile deep, watching trees, birds, waterfalls, rocks, and a rising sun giving it all breathtaking definition and color.

A while back I told my granddaughter I was going to do a sermon. She asked what I was talking about. I told her "Patience." She was shocked, "Patience! You talking about patience! You are probably the most impatient person I know."

I have thought a lot about this and in many ways she is right. The Apostle Paul reminds us "Love is patient"... and my impatience gets in the the way... in the way of receiving His love and in the way of being the loving person He would have me be.