Us or Them: The Boston Driver’s Handbook (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

Driving in Boston is dangerous.

One of the first things I noticed when I first drove in Boston is just how crazy they all seemed to be. We drivers live (and die) on just how reliably we can anticipate the moves of nearby drivers. We depend on directional signals actually indicating which way a driver will turn. We need to believe a driver in the Left Turn Lane is not, in actuality, going to turn right. And vice versa.

I spent the first several weeks absolutely terrified.

Not so much by their bad driving —though it was truly bad— but more by their unpredictability. I had no idea what they would do next. And yet, I had to enter that fray at least twice every working day.

At some point, I shared this concern with a friend at church ... someone who was also not a “local” ... but who had lived there for several years. After hearing me go on about it for a few minutes, he touched my arm and said, gently, “I can help.” And he then proceeded to share with me the essential bit of wisdom that, in time, gave me the confidence to drive all over the Boston area without undue fear (a little fear was good; just needed it to not be paralyzing fear).

What he shared was this: in the mind of every Boston driver is one thought: “Can I make it.”

Suddenly, it all made a kind of crazy sense. What I soon learned to do was watch, not the cars, but the faces of those nearby drivers. Directional signals? Forget it. Lane location? Meaningless. Where were they looking? That told me everything I needed to know.

What did I learn? This: those Boston drivers were not going to change ... no matter how much I wanted them to change, and no matter how much they needed to change. And this: a lesson about people and imparted wisdom. Sometimes the wisdom is for them ... and sometimes the wisdom is for us. In the case of Boston drivers, I was the one who had to change, and my friend’s wisdom helped me do it.

It’s an important lesson to keep in mind while reading this week’s Lectionary scriptures (all of which are related to wisdom in one way or another). Reading these scriptures, collectively, reminded me of how easy it is to conclude that the wisdom of the scriptures is for “them” ... that is, someone other than us.

Of course, not us ... and certainly not me. None of us wants to think of ourselves as unwise. And yet ... Do you ever read a passage and immediately think of someone (else) who would benefit from adopting that code or mode of conduct? I used to do it all the time. Now, I only do it most of the time. Still some work to do, there. All of this to say: this week's Lectionary selections are about us, for us ... not them. So, I’ve been re-reading the passages with me in mind ... not them.

What it says to me: heed Wisdom's call, and choose to accept the instruction that leads to life.

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To write this reflection, I borrowed a few tiny pieces of a reflection I wrote in September, 2015, titled The Diagonal of Death.

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A hilarious read (and essential should you ever want to drive in Boston) is The Boston Driver’s Handbook. See it here: https://www.amazon.com/Boston-Drivers-Handbook-Streets-Almost/dp/0306813262/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1536798162&sr=8-1&keywords=the+boston+drivers+handbook

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Seventeenth Sunday After Pentecost
Proper 19 (24) (September 16, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=219

Proverbs 1:20-33
Psalm 19
Isaiah 50:4-9a
Psalm 116:1-9
James 3:1-12
Mark 8:27-38
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I hope you can join us Friday morning for Lectionary Breakfast. As usual, we gather at 8:00 at the Waco "Egg and I" restaurant. It's an hour-ish of visiting, reading some scripture, praying, and discussing how it might work out in our own lives.

No one is required to drive in Boston.

Enjoy the week!
Steve

Retirement is Weird (or, The Plans That Perished) — a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection

I thought retirement would be different.

Like many, I had spent decades working and saving; investing in retirement plans, 401k’s, savings accounts; thinking about how I would use my time when I had all those hours to do as I pleased. I thought I would spend more time reading and writing, that I would finally get back to that long unfinished novel languishing at the back of my iPad.

But ... well ... retirement is weird.

A lot changes when we retire ... We stop working. We no longer earn our income. Monday’s are not the same. There’s no place we have to be on a weekday morning. We’re stunned to discover that most of our friends were workplace friends. Suddenly, it seems like just everybody has some plan to fill our time. Most of us have some cash flow, but it is almost always a lot less than before we retired.

Is it any wonder that many people, even when they have the resources to do so, don’t stay retired? Research indicates that at least 40% of workers over the age of 65 had already previously retired! I recently had a conversation with a person in their 80’s who, though well-off financially, told me, “I just can’t retire. I wouldn't know what to do with myself.”

I could provide a litany of things that retirement brings about, some of which highlight how wonderful it can be and some of which make it seem something to be avoided at all costs. But there is one thing about retirement that is universal for everyone who takes that step ... and it can be a stunner if you’re not prepared for it.

Everything just stops.

Work email just stops. All those projects you were a part of? Not another word. Your opinion is no longer sought. Your regular lunch mates? Going to lunch without you. Bad as that all is, it gets worse. That work you were championing? That process change you were seeking? That new approach to training the next generation of workers you were shaping? Stopped. And if it didn’t stop, it changed so significantly after you left, you might not even recognize it.

It’s almost like you were never there.

True, we need not retire to have this experience; anything that takes us out of our normal flow can cause it. Major health concern, fired from a job, forced relocation ... pick your poison. If you’ve ever experienced it, you can never forget it. And, it makes one of this week’s Lectionary passages a little clearer if you have. Psalm 146 is all about trusting in God. It recites all the good God does. But before it does so, it warns the reader: don’t put your faith in princes (and other mortals) because, “When their breath departs, they return to the earth; on that very day their plans perish.”

Retired or not, we need to place our faith in the one who is constant, the one who can be depended on to help in time of trouble, the one who (as the Psalm says): “executes justice for the oppressed ... gives food to the hungry ... sets the prisoners free ... opens the eyes of the blind ... lifts up those who are bowed down ... watches over the strangers ... upholds the orphan and the widow.”

That’s what God does. Most of this week’s scriptures are about what God does for those in need, but some are about what we should do. A good summary of what God wants of us can be found in this week’s selection from James: it’s like he’s preaching a sermon on how to fold Psalm 146 into our lives.

The world may have stopped for us —even though we are not princes, and even though we are still here— but we are called to continue ... by a God who never stops.

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There are many (many) articles about retirees returning to the workforce. This is a good example: https://www.aplaceformom.com/blog/reasons-retirees-are-going-back-to-work/

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 18 (23) (September 9, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//texts.php?id=218

Proverbs 22:1-2, 8-9, 22-23
Psalm 125
Isaiah 35:4-7a
Psalm 146
James 2:1-10, (11-13), 14-17
Mark 7:24-37
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Join us Friday morning for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant. You should find us in the function room (down the outside, near the back); ask at the host stand if we’re not there. The hour starts at 8:00 and goes by quickly. But we take with us the fruits of reading the Bible, discussing, praying, laughing. It doesn’t stop just because the clock strikes 9:00.

Blessings,
Steve

The Ocean, the Ginger, and the Figs (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

Through the window near our table, I could see the ocean racing by ... or more precisely, our ship racing across the ocean. With our speed, we were creating a sizable bow wave, ropey blue lines with lots of white froth. Captain had announced earlier that we would be sailing along at 15 knots, which is pretty fast for a cruise-liner of our size. Despite the visual, though, it was a smooth crossing.

Yes, there was some roll, front to back; which, with our dining room being near the back of the ship, meant we could feel it a bit more. But there had been rougher seas this trip. Still, despite the beauty and majesty of that ride, and despite how relatively mild it was onboard, tonight, those with a sensitivity to such things would likely need something to calm their stomachs.

And that’s where the ginger comes in.

Every night after dinner, we walked directly to a small cart positioned just by the exit. On it were displayed an arrangement of four after-dinner treats. You could choose from dates, crystallized (sugared) ginger, dried figs, and those small, creamy mints that start melting the second you place them in your mouth. While the mints were yummy and the dates were sweet —and I know a lot of you would prefer one or both— my choice was always ginger and figs.

Crystallized ginger comes with both a kiss and a bite; I’m pretty sure it would be all bite if not for that sugar infusion. So, its the sugared form for me. But some nights —nights like this one— the ginger was gone by the time I reached that cart. For many, some ginger after a meal is exactly what they needed to calm those sea-tossed tummies. I doubt the FDA has weighed in on this, but a lot of people swear by it: ginger helps their seasickness. I don’t get sea sick, so the absence of the ginger, while a disappointment, is not devastating.

Besides (and now we get down to it), I love figs! Truth be told, as much as I enjoy the ginger, I can live without it. What I found myself looking forward to each evening on the cruise were those figs.

The first time I ate a fig (and I’m not counting Fig Newtons) was while awaiting the birth of our daughter. The tree behind the small duplex we rented in South Austin (Texas) was huge; I could not wrap my arms all the way around the trunk. I happened to be standing beneath it when a fig came loose and fell at my feet. I had seen figs in the grocery store, so I knew what it was, but I had never actually eaten one. Could I eat it? This was long before the Internet, so there was no Google to ask. I took the thing to work with me and asked my boss. She quashed all concern by ooh-ing and aah-ing over the thing. All that was needed before eating was simply to wash it off.

I’ve been hooked ever since.

Hard to describe the sensations of eating a fig. It is definitely not for just everyone. But that mild sweetness, coupled with all that fiber, it’s just right for me. And I am a long way from the first to enjoy a fig. Did you know that only three trees were named in the Garden of Eden? Two were supernatural and other was: the Fig. In fact, figs play a big role in the Bible.

When the wanderers are about to enter the Promised Land, they are told, “For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land, a land with ... [among other great things] fig trees ....” (‭‭Deut‬ ‭8:7-8‬ ‭NRSV‬‬ - http://bible.com/2016/deu.8.7-8.nrsv) Throughout the Bible, figs and fig trees are associated with peace, well-being, and safety. The very image one would conjure of a happy, contented Israelite is one where they sit beneath the shade of their own fig tree (consider what Jesus says of Nathanael in John chapter 1).

Much is implied when scripture references the fig tree and its produce: it takes a lot of work to just keep the thing alive the first few years. They have to be nurtured. The presence of a living, fruitful fig tree means that the Gardner has remained nearby, tending to all that is required to ensure its health and growth.

So, when we come across a passage like the one from Song of Solomon in this week’s Lectionary, we must exercise a bit of care. I know the tendency of some might be to just skip it, entirely, perhaps thinking, “Just how much love poetry do I need to read? And what spiritual purpose does this serve?”

Ah ... but the figs.

The presence of the fig tree and the figs in that passage told a fuller story to the Israelite readers, one we might not get. Those readers understood: It wasn’t just a call from one lover to another to “come away.” It was saying that, not only is all well with the world, but that the present is the product of the past. Much tending and nurturing had preceded that poetic moment in time. This was not a new, immature love; maturity had been achieved and the time had, at last, arrived for starting their new life, together.

This is our relationship with God. The Lord is our Gardner. We are the figs.

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Reference (I don’t know anything about these folk. I just liked this article about the figs in the Bible): From THE SYMBOLISM OF FIGS IN THE BIBLE
https://www.oneforisrael.org/amp/bible-based-teaching-from-israel/figs-in-the-bible/
PHOTO (and a yummy culinary article about figs): https://www.strongertogether.coop/fresh-from-the-source/figs

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 17 (22) (September 2, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

Song of Solomon 2:8-13
Psalm 45:1-2, 6-9
Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9
Psalm 15
James 1:17-27
Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23
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Friday mornings are special. Scripture, prayer, discussion, laughter: DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast meets at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant from 8:00 to 9:00. We’re usually in their function room (down the outside, near the back), but be sure to ask the host if you can’t find us.

Blessings,
Steve

Guernsey Potato Pie and the Vampire Christians (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

No one offered us potato peel pie. And I never saw a sign for a literary society. But our visit to the Isle of Guernsey was delightful, all the same. Many only know of this picturesque island from the book (and current movie), The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. I can recommend both the book and the movie. And, following our day of walking about in Guernsey, I am happy to say I can recommend the actual island, too!

The only place in the British Isles occupied by the Germans in WWII, Guernsey’s streets, buildings, farms, and lanes were untouched by enemy bombs. But the occupation, itself, left its own mark on the island. While there is much I could share with you about our time there, I’m going to focus on one little piece of our day-long adventure. As I meandered through the narrow lanes —passing shops, coffee houses, bakeries, and freestanding market-day kiosks— my eye fell on a sign that drew me off into a little corner: BOOKSTORE.

As I stepped out of the bright sunlight into the relatively darker shop, I had to pause a second for my eyes to adjust. Shortly, I saw before me two casually dressed, older ladies, each with a front-mounted fanny pack about their waists. They were deep in an animated, but subdued, conversation. Then, in a voice mostly British, but with a very faint hint of French somewhere in the background, the nearest said, “Come on in, Luv. Come get us if you have a question.”

So, with that out of the way, I wandered about the tiny shop, taking my time, getting the shelving order in my head. Eventually, I found myself in the far corner looking at the one shelf that held all of their crime, Sci-fi, mystery, and thriller titles ... maybe forty books, in all. I had no expectations when I decided to check out the shop. But, to be honest, I usually enter these secondhand book shops with a great deal of hope ... and that hope did not lead to disappointment.

There before me on the shelf was a thin collection of short stories written by Bram Stoker, the author best known for the classic horror novel, Dracula. I couldn’t believe my luck. As I read the preface, I discovered that Bram’s widow published these stories after his death —that, alone, would be enough to make me buy it. But then I read that this book contained a story that was, in fact, a piece his editors had deleted from Dracula! Now, I’ve read Dracula, and seen innumerable movies and TV shows that derive their villains (and sometimes, heroes) from this first popular novel about vampires. But I had never read this one!

I must admit to some fascination with these bloodsuckers. Leviticus 17:11 states, “The blood is the Life.” And, of course, that is the very essence of any vampire story: unless they drink your blood, they die. The Leviticus passage takes the opposite tack: God commands us to not drink blood because it is part of the process for the forgiveness of sin, and thus not to be used for anything else.

As I stood there —in that little bookstore, on the Isle of Guernsey, out in the English Channel, just off the coast of France— I recalled that from time to time, the followers of Jesus were accused of vampirism ... and worse. And the reason for that stems from what Jesus says in this week’s Lectionary selection from the Gospel of John. Jesus tells His followers, clearly, they must drink His blood and eat His flesh or they cannot abide in Him. It was just too much for some of them. In fact, John tells us, “Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him.”

That was the first time ... but not nearly the last. Over the centuries that followed, many a person has accused christians of cannibalism and vampirism. It’s easy to see how they could be confused about the requirement to ingest the blood and flesh of Jesus. We know better, today.

But It’s a stark reminder to those of us who follow Him: without the Spirit to instruct and guide us, there is plenty of room for misinterpretation of what Jesus taught.

So, before we even open our mouths to quote some teaching from scripture, we should pause and consider how it could be heard —confusion abounds in the absence of the Spirit— and then pray for discernment, enlightenment, and wisdom before we speak.

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Graphic (and great review of the novel, Dracula): http://www.wkar.org/post/book-review-bram-stokers-dracula#stream/0


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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 16 (21) (August 26, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

1 Kings 8:(1,6,10-11), 22-30, 41-43
Psalm 84
Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18
Psalm 34:15-22
Ephesians 6:10-20
John 6:56-69

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Join us Friday morning at 8:00 for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. We’re still at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant, and we are still spending that hour reading God’s word, discussing, eating, laughing ... you get the picture. 😎

Blessings,
Steve

Gusher: King Solomon and the Beverly Hillbillies (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

“Come ‘n listen to my story ‘bout a man named Jed
A poor mountaineer, barely kept his family fed
And then one day, he was shootin’ at some food
And up through the ground come a bubblin’ crude ...
Oil that is ... black gold ... Texas tea.”

When I first heard THE BALLAD OF JED CLAMPETT, the theme song for the television comedy, The Beverly Hillbillies, I was instantly hooked by Paul Hennings’ music and lyrics. Catchy ... and very singable. And in just a few lines, he told the story of how Jed Clampett became a millionaire. Sure, I thought at the time, it’s a wholly unrealistic scenario —you don’t find oil that way— but that goes along with the show being a comedy ... right?

Wrong.

Shortly after moving my family to Midland, Texas in the early 1980’s, one of the first things I was taught about “oil country” was this: Oil is where you find it. That’s just a pithy way of admitting the central truth of oil exploration: no one really knows where the stuff is.

Oil. Gold. Silver. This has always been the big problem with drawing such treasures from the earth: no one knows where to find it. Oh, sure, there are people —smart, capable people— who have an idea about where one might find it. But no one knows exactly where to find it. There’s a reason they call it oil exploration.

So, when I read this week’s selection from 1st Kings, I wasn’t shocked that Solomon might have asked God for riches. Considering that every time someone drills a hole in the earth looking for oil, there is a great chance they will find absolutely nothing ... well, it just doesn’t sound so crazy that people might think they should ask God to give them riches.

But, scripture tells us there is something worth more than the treasures of the earth, and that is what Solomon asked of God: Wisdom. It pleased God that Solomon chose wisdom rather than many other things he could have asked for as King: riches, long life, the death of his enemies.

We, too, can please God by wanting wisdom. And unlike silver and gold, or oil, or all the other treasures one might try to draw from the earth, finding wisdom is not a game of chance.

We know right where it is.

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PHOTO (and info on the Spindletop gusher): https://www.history.com/topics/spindletop

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 15 (20) (August 19, 2018)
Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14
Psalm 111
Proverbs 9:1-6
Psalm 34:9-14
Ephesians 5:15-20
John 6:51-58

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Join us Friday morning for DaySpring’s Lectionary breakfast at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant. If you don’t see us, ask at the host stand. We spend that hour from 8:00 to 9:00 reading, discussing, laughing, praying ... all in the pursuit of wisdom.

Blessings,
Steve

Vivi Dropped Her Basket (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

Vivi had a secret.

In the novel, Devine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood, we meet a group of older women who have been friends since early childhood. Despite their flaws, they still care deeply for each other. A war has erupted between one of the sisterhood, Vivi, and her adult daughter, Sidda. Like many family conflicts, it stems from equal parts truth and misunderstanding.

Hoping to reconcile mother and daughter, the other members of the Ya Ya Sisterhood kidnap Sidda from her life in New York City and spirit her away to Louisiana. Because she needs to understand just why her mother is so difficult a person, they must reveal to Sidda her mother's deepest, darkest secret. And so, they tell her.

Vivi dropped her basket.

That’s the phrase Vivi used to describe a time when she had a mental and emotional breakdown as a young mother, brutally beat her children, and was then hospitalized for her subsequent attempted suicide.

Vivi dropped her basket.

Life can be tough. Some of us fare better than others. Some of us are, for reasons known and unknown, stronger than others when it comes to our mental and emotional health. And, even when we appear strong to those around us, we can be coming apart on the inside.

Any of us can be fragile. Even those of us who follow Jesus. We are not immune.

The Twila Paris song, The Warrior is a Child, is about that fragility among believers: "People say that I'm amazing, strong beyond my years. But they don't see inside of me, I'm hiding all the tears ... I drop my sword and cry for just a while, 'cause deep inside this armor, the warrior is a child." (https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=uRNFf3ykQvM)

Elijah, a true warrior for the Lord, was this almost superhuman prophet of the Old Testament. He performed amazing feats in the name of the Lord. People were in awe of his power and authority. To his peers, he seemed the ideal warrior for the Lord.

And yet.

Elijah dropped his basket.

That's the story we find in this week's Lectionary passage from 1 Kings. This great warrior for God, on the heels of a mighty victory ... just loses it. In fear, he runs out into the wilderness; so depressed, he begs God to take his life. Do you see God’s response?

Rest and sustenance.

And then ... more rest and sustenance.

Why? Because God knew Elijah needed both before he could begin the journey back; a journey that included an audience with God.

Keep that in mind as we face the struggles that affect us in this life. No matter how strong we've been, no matter how amazing our most recent mountaintop experience, no matter the number of victories we've achieved, any of us can drop our basket.

Like Elijah, we can depend on God to be in it with us, to hear what we have to say, and, if we can receive it, to ensure we receive the rest and sustenance we need for our journey.

But there’s something else here: we might, instead, be the person God has sent to deliver the rest and sustenance to one who has dropped their basket.

Just like the Ya Ya Sisterhood.

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PHOTO: Steve Orr - Waco, Texas - August, 2018

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A slightly different version of this reflection appeared in June 2016.

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 14 (19) (August 12, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33
Psalm 130
1 Kings 19:4-8
Psalm 34:1-8
Ephesians 4:25-5:2
John 6:35, 41-51
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Once again, we meet Friday morning for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant. Join us at 8:00 for a great hour of food and fellowship. We’re usually in the function room (down the outside, near the back). But if you can’t find us, ask.

Blessings,
Steve

I Could Eat (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

Scene: George (or Eileen) suggests to Jerry that they go to the diner to have a meal. In response, Jerry thinks for a few seconds and then says, “I could eat.”

In the TV show, Seinfeld (“the show about nothing”), this was a recurring theme. Someone suggests food, Jerry thinks about it, and then he agrees by saying, “I could eat.” Though Jerry never did so, one could easily place the emphasis on the word “could.” What the scene always says is this: before someone suggested eating, Jerry wasn’t thinking about eating. It is only after it has been suggested that he thinks, yes, he might like to eat.

So, “could” is the right word. He isn’t hungering, exactly, just willing to eat when, moments before, he wasn’t even thinking about food. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been in an almost identical situation and echoed Jerry’s answer. It’s a pretty common situation for most of us. And I guess, technically, that might fall under the heading of “hunger.”

There is another kind of hunger, though, that I wager you have also experienced: the one where you get up, wander about your house thinking you want . . . something. You just don’t know what. You find yourself in the kitchen, thinking, “Maybe I want food.” You open the fridge or the pantry (or both in succession, possibly more than once), look at what’s there and . . . nope. Nothing there looks like it’s that “something” you wish you could name; that je ne sais quoi which just will not stop pestering you.

That, for certain, is a kind of hunger.

The case could be made that each of this week’s Lectionary passages is about hunger; a hunger for physical food, and a hunger for spiritual food; a hunger for rightness, and a hunger for community. In Exodus, Psalm 78, and John, we read of the Israelites and how God supplied their physical needs for food (Re-read this story if you think God doesn’t have a sense of humor). It’s Jesus, of course, who delivers the real lesson about satisfying hunger. He tells His followers they should not follow Him just because he might miraculously feed them loaves and fishes, again. He wants them to desire the spiritual food being provided by God, the only “food” that truly satisfies.

The 2Samuel passage addresses David’s mistake of confusing a hunger for rightness with a hunger for sex (he should have been in the field with his soldiers instead of wandering about on his rooftop wanting . . . something). And then Psalm 51, a companion piece if you will, deals with David’s desire to be, once again, filled with what he truly hungers for: God’s spirit and forgiveness for his sins. He is empty and he knows it.

It’s the Ephesians passage that ties it all together. Those things that drive us to wander about our houses, to channel-surf all the way round, to stare longingly but unsatisfied at the books in our TBR stack, to desire a je ne sais quoi without resolution . . . that is a hunger for which there is a satisfaction. And Paul nails it when he calls us into community with others who profess to love Jesus: we need the “unity of the Spirit” to fill those empty spaces in our souls so we can proceed confidently (and satisfied) in our relationships with others.

So, the next time you find yourself wandering about, seeking that je ne sais quoi that will not let you go, even if you can’t name it as hunger —maybe especially if you can’t name it as hunger— turn to the Lord and say, “I could eat.”

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 13 (18) (August 5, 2018)

2 Samuel 11:26 - 12:13a
Psalm 51:1-12
Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15
Psalm 78:23-29
Ephesians 4:1-16
John 6:24-35
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When you join us for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast, check to see if we’re at the back of the main dining room of the Waco “Egg and I” Restaurant. We use whatever room they choose, so ask if you can’t find us. We might be in the function room (down the side, near the back). Otherwise: we still meet at 8:00 for a fun and interesting hour of food, fellowship, scripture, and robust discussion.

Blessings,
Steve