Prayer is foundational to our life with God. Talking to God about our world, our friends, families and ourselves begins the conversation. Listening to God about our world, our friends, families and ourselves moves the conversation forward. Whether you have prayed for a lifetime or only occasionally, we hope you will join us this Fall for our church-wide study. The only thing Jesus' friends ever asked him to teach them was how to pray.

Believe it: There once was a day when breaths were not numbered. When there was no lid on the box, or even four walls for that matter. So where did the box come from you ask, and our X number of inhales and exhales originate? Listen and look.

Part One: "I don't get it." What I don’t get is why people--other people of course-- don’t get it. Think about it. It’s as if each of us lives inside a box. A big box for sure; some bigger, I suppose, some smaller, some taller and some shorter, but a box with a lid, and thus a limited amount of air. And so we only have so many breaths.

Circumstances change from time to time. In fact, our situation and circumstances seem to change all the time. Some changes are big, some more modest. Your toothpaste, your address, your insurance company, your hairstyle, your last name, your favorite tv show, your surprising job assignment, your child’s least favorite school subject, your newest passion, your latest disappointment. The list goes on and on because life goes on and on.

Dear Friends at New Covenant, Sometimes a song says it all, sometimes not. I was recently listening to Dionne Warwick sing the 1966 hit, “What’s it all about Alfie?”

Should that title have a question mark after it, or will you allow me to assume that sometimes God will intentionally allow us to fail in order for us to realize our dependence on Him, to show us we are creatures and He is creator? This week, several of the glass balls that I try to keep spinning have dropped to the floor.

A strange thing happened: On the way to the close of the vestry meeting last Sunday, right before we anointed and prayed for our Senior Warden, Bill Stone, the treasurer, Rick Moss, reported, among other things, that we were not in the red. It’s the end of June and summer is upon us, a time when I usually write to you all asking for more support. This is wonderful! What am I to do?

I was tuning into my umpteenth movie on the long ride back from Africa when I heard the Beach Boys singing “Wouldn’t it be nice.” (By the way, you can hear and see the original recording of it on YouTube.) My mind drifted from the movie and before sleep caught me I began to fill in my own lyrics. (By the way -- Sara tells us to sort of do that with our praise on Sunday mornings, not so much fill in lyrics, but in the open moments to fill in our own words to the Lord, or listen for his words for us.) Wouldn’t it be nice to sing a new song to the Lord and hear him whisper your name?

"We’ve checked into the hotel earth overnight on our way to the heavenly Jerusalem. Earth is not our home!” That’s something Brennan Manning often said and over the thirty years of our friendship, it really sunk into me, I’d say, it shaped my soul. Some relationships do that -- change us, shape us.

The last time Barb and I headed out of town on a weekend to simply be attenders, i.e. not having a scripted part in the ceremony, was on a day of two funerals. (I say scripted because attending, being there, is a critical part in all ceremonies.)