Presby-Musings

Standing on Gorée Island off the coast of Senegal, where millions of African men, women, and children were held before being forced across the Atlantic, into slavery, it is impossible to remain untouched.  The stones seem to carry memory. The narrow doorways whisper stories of terror and loss. And the ocean—so beautiful and vast—bears the weight of unspeakable suffering. Gorée does not allow for distance or abstraction. It insists on truth. As part of my trip to Senegal, I had the opportunity to walk those stones and enter the cells where millions of people were held in the most inhumane ways possible.  I felt like I was walking on sacred ground, because I was.   There is a doorway that leads to what used to be a dock where slaves were herded like cattle, and subsequently shipped off to the Americas (both North and South).  That door was called "The Door of No Return."  Some slaves, upon passing through that door, ultimately threw themselves into the shark...

During my recent trip to Senegal, Africa, I learned an important lesson about knowing when you have enough.   The culture in the villages where we were visiting and staying, when it came to meals, was like nothing I'd ever experienced before.  Meals were served in a giant bowl, filled with a mixture of a grain (rice, millet, and sometimes pasta), root vegetables, and a protein of some kind like beef, chicken, or fish in the middle.   We were given a spoon, and then 4-5 of us would gather around the bowl to eat what we wanted from the section in front of us.  The meat would get divided up between us.   Once you get past the fact that you are eating from the same bowl as everyone around it, it was not a strange thing at all, and pretty amazing in a communal kind of way.  But there was a twist.   Whatever we didn't eat was then given to the children in the village for their meal.  I also learned that, because of this custom, one o...

As part of our recent trip to Senegal, Africa, the group I was traveling with was invited to attend a weekly "Kids Club" gathering in one of the nearby villages.   At least a hundred kids turned up for it.   They sang, danced, played games, listened intently to the story the children's pastor told, learned a memory verse about obeying their parents, and then hung around afterward, laughing, playing, and running amok.  I was reminded once again how children everywhere act in similar ways, despite their circumstances, culture, etc.   They have a way of looking at the world, experiencing joy, and employing play that gets lost along the way toward adulthood, sadly so.   Henry Ward Beecher once wrote:  “Children are the hands by which we take hold of heaven.” It is a striking image. Children, in their openness and wonder, show us a posture toward God that adults often forget. They do not arrive with carefully curated résumés or theological ar...

This past week, I was asked to speak at a wedding in Senegal, Africa.   Keep in mind that until last week, I had never been to Africa and knew absolutely nothing about Senegalese weddings or the customs of the village where the wedding was held.  I was told I would have a translator, but did not know exactly what to expect.  The day before the wedding, our group was walking through one of the markets in Thies, a large city about 2.5 hours from the village where the wedding would be held, and I saw some traditional robes (complete with pants and a shirt) in one of the shops.  For some reason, I felt it was important to wear one of them for the wedding, so after bargaining with the shopkeeper, I bought one.   Little did I know that impulse would speak volumes to the wedding guests.  I was told later that it showed respect and, along with the short message I delivered, was a sign that I understood Senegalese culture.  The truth was, I had no ide...

Last week, I was in Senegal, Africa, with a small team from my church, visiting with mission partners and spending time in the remote village of Khamada, which isn't even on a map.   I was blown away by how we were welcomed into the village with open arms, fed, and accepted — not as guests, but as family.  It was an incredibly humbling experience to be received so warmly.  We were guests at the wedding of a young pastor in a neighboring village, where I was asked to deliver a "sermon," with the aid of a translator.   I can't tell you how many people came up to me, shook my hand, and told me what a good job I did.  I'm pretty sure the translator made me sound more eloquent than I deserved, and I had no idea what I was doing.   I was nearly brought to tears so many times as I thought about how we were embraced and how unworthy I felt to receive such hospitality and grace.  I'm actually fighting them back now as I write.   There a...

Dear friends, after today, I'll be taking a short break from writing Daily Devos while I travel for the next week or so.  See below for more information on where I am going.   Tomorrow I am leaving for a week-long service trip to Senegal in Africa.  In preparation for this journey, I was obliged to visit a travel doctor to receive the recommended inoculations and medications to prevent illnesses such as malaria, typhoid, yellow fever, tetanus, and the flu.   For the past week, I have not felt very good.  I have one shoulder that still aches from a tetanus shot. I've been tired and achy at times, and it doesn't help that it's cedar season in Central Texas, which means my allergies are kicking my butt on top of everything.  I am feeling a bit frail and not very confident as I prepare to travel halfway around the world to a place I've never been, where I'll also be out of my comfort zone for much of the trip.  I'm experiencing a disconnect betwe...

T oday, I am thinking of several friends who are going through a season of loss and are feeling a deep sense of sorrow.   Their grief resonates with me because I understand it, and thinking about them reminds me of my own losses and griefs, and how they have shaped me.  It takes a long time for some of us to move through sorrow to experience joy once again, and it can be a painful journey that often feels as though it will never end.  But I am learning that even in the pain of that journey, new life can spring up from what was, if we are willing to let it grow.  We can, if we are courageous, let go of our grief, surrender it, then let it instruct us.   But this is difficult work, and we often struggle to do it.  The sorrow from grief and loss can be powerful, and not at all simple.   Sorrow has a way of rearranging the soul. It comes uninvited, heavy and disorienting, stripping away what once felt stable and familiar. In seasons of loss,...

For much of my life, I treated prayer as an act of last resort.   When things were going fine, I seldom prayed because I didn't think I really needed to.  I reserved my prayers for the moments when I felt I had no other recourse.  If things were beyond my own power to control, I would turn to God and pray as fervently as a saint.   My understanding of prayer as more than just a cry for help has grown over the years.  But I will say that my cries for help from God have taught me a great deal about my own sense of faith in God's presence in my life.   When everything else falls away, prayer remains. It is often only in the moments when our plans collapse—when the phone doesn’t ring, the diagnosis doesn’t change, the relationship doesn’t heal, the anxiety doesn’t ease—that we discover what we truly believe about God.  Prayer, then, is not merely a spiritual habit; it is a lifeline. It is how we cling to grace when nothing else seems certain...

Welcome To Epiphany Epiphany is a word that means sudden realization, a surprising revelation.   The season of Epiphany gives us the opportunity to still be surprised by Jesus. Today, we will read the story of Jesus’ baptism and learn what it means to be claimed by God and our community of faith.   JESUS’ BAPTISM TEACHES US THAT WE ARE ALL BELOVED Matthew 3:13-17 13 Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him.  John’s baptism was about repentance and preparation.    The location, the name, the symbolism, and the community.    14 John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” 15 But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now, for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.”  Jesus declares that his baptism fulfills something—an identifying act.  Then he consented. 16 And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly th...

Today, I will conclude this little series on approaching the new year with a mindset toward becoming the best version of yourself, and it seems fitting to end it with Hope.   When I was studying English Literature as an undergrad, I remember reading this short line from Alfred Lord Tennyson that has stuck with me for many years now:  “Hope Smiles from the threshold of the year to come, Whispering 'it will be happier'...” It's a lovely line, and I want to believe it.  But I also realize that there have been many years when I may have felt that the new year would bring more joy, fulfillment, and happiness, and it didn't.   Or at least it didn't feel that way.    I have begun more than a few new years when all I wanted to do was put the previous year in the rearview mirror and move away from it as fast as I possibly could.   And yet, there's something about a new beginning that diminishes the memory of what may have been a hard season in li...

A couple of years ago, I read an excellent book entitled Atomic Habits   by James Clear that I highly recommend as a resource for working toward being your best self in the new year (or any time).   There was one big idea in the book that resonated with me: the power of small steps in changing habits that don't serve you.  This particular quote was one that I highlighted:  “All big things come from small beginnings. The seed of every habit is a single, tiny decision. But as that decision is repeated, a habit sprouts and grows stronger. Roots entrench themselves and branches grow. The task of breaking a bad habit is like uprooting a powerful oak within us. And the task of building a good habit is like cultivating a delicate flower one day at a time.” When we imagine becoming better versions of ourselves, we often picture dramatic change. Yet most spiritual growth happens more steadily as we adopt a system of habit-forming that replaces good habits with not-so-go...

I'm in the process of planning for the annual men's ski trip with guys from my church.  It's the only time each year that I go skiing, so the first few hours on the slopes are always interesting.   Last year, I had a tremendous wipeout where I lost my hat, skis, ski poles, and my dignity as I slid on my stomach for probably a hundred yards before stopping.  I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong and became frustrated.   It wasn't until we were ready to return home that I remembered advice I'd been given the last time I went on the trip about redistributing my weight on the skis, but we were already done skiing by that time.   The problem for me is that I used to be a good skier when I was young, but those days are long gone, and I don't go skiing all that much anymore.  Still, I hold myself to that standard, and I hate the fact that I have to basically start at the beginning--on the bunny slopes--every time I go back.   This m...

In years past, I've often begun the new year with a desire to fix whatever I perceived to be wrong with me by making resolutions, vowing to replace bad habits with good ones, and generally making promises to myself that ultimately I was unable to keep.   I've learned that I am not alone in this endeavor. Many of us start the new year in repair mode, hoping to fix ourselves and become the people we believe we ought to be.   I've had more than my share of failures over the years as I've approached the new year with a fix-it mindset, but there is one thing I did that took root and has perhaps been the single most important "resolution" I've kept: writing these Devos.   For over a decade, I've been writing these devotional messages every morning, most often preceded by reading, journaling, reflection, prayer, and other practices that I've adopted into my daily rituals.   What started as a resolution was actually an act formation that grew over time in...

This week's Daily Devos will focus on how to approach the new year in ways that help us become better versions of ourselves, in ways that are doable and sustainable.   God knows, I need "doable and sustainable" ways to begin a new year.  I've learned over the years that simply making resolutions has never really worked that well for me.  Like most people, I always have the best intentions, but my New Year's resolutions tend to fall away rather quickly.   It's not that I'm a particularly weak person; it's just that my resolutions for the new year are pretty lofty and generally unattainable. I dream of being a different person, reinventing everything about me, and becoming an idealized version of myself that I think I ought to be.   The turning of the calendar often tempts us to believe that change requires reinvention. A new year, we assume, demands a new version of ourselves—more disciplined, more productive, more impressive.  And we want it...