Lenten Daily Devotionals for March 13 - March 19
Sunday, March 13
Lent 2: The Lament over Jerusalem (Luke 13:31-35)
At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” He said to them, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’ Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’”
Monday, March 14
“A Prayer for Families Separated by the Pandemic” by Gail Christensen
“Grandchildren are the crown of the aged…” Proverbs 17:6
What I have lost is more than two years without seeing, hugging, talking with my grandkids who are spread across the world. This time cannot be recovered. It is difficult when you want this special time with your grandkids.
Then I think about my parents who didn’t see/hug/talk with our two boys for over a year and a half as we lived in Germany. Not only that, we spoke on the phone maybe once in that time. That was then.
Now we have ZOOM, Facetime, text, email, instant pictures. I have been blessed in a way not foreseen because of technology. Thanks be to God!
Tuesday, March 15
“Was Lost But Now is Found” by Lynn Nordby
When my sister died unexpectedly, without a valid will, in 2020, I was appointed to administer her estate. Although my sister had never married, her career as a social worker specializing in adoption led her to adopt children herself.
One of her two living heirs was a woman who had not been in contact with my sister, or anyone else in our family, for decades. At the time of her adoption as a young child, she had been diagnosed as mentally disabled, when in fact she suffered from severe hearing loss. With my sister, she began to catch up to others her age. Benay and I were sponsors at her baptism and attended her confirmation. She briefly attended Pacific Lutheran University but eventually struck out on her own, rejecting my sister and the rest our family, even the family name. Kari Nordby became Lisa Bailey. All we heard through my sister was that she seemed to be attempting to pursue an academic career, first in California, then on the east coast. The occasional bill collector called for Lisa, but Lisa herself stayed resolutely out of touch. We felt my sister's loss and the feeling of rejection. Anger and resentment too.
Seeking my sister's heirs, using social media, Benay found a post and photo that resembled the girl we once knew. We made contact and indeed she was my sister's daughter.
I was initially inclined to simply do my duty to the estate, assemble the assets and distribute them. However, as we reestablished contact with Lisa my view changed. Benay wrote to ask for more personal details about her rationale for rejecting my sister and our family. Her lengthy reply upset me. I tried to dismiss it but to be honest I had to see her life from the perspective of a deaf, Black child adopted by a single white woman. There was nothing to be gained by debating.
Shortly after we had established contact, Lisa was diagnosed with terminal cancer. She asked for our prayer support and confided her fears. We learned that she had friends and a faith community in a Unitarian congregation in Massachusetts where she lived. As she struggled through fear and chemotherapy, and eventually palliative care, we kept in contact with encouragement and assurance that she was not forgotten. I spoke with her pastor, who was delighted to hear that she had a Lutheran background. He told me that Lisa was “truly a child of God.” She did indeed have a supportive circle around her.
When she died several days later, he said two of her friends from the church were there with her, praying. He sent a picture of a double rainbow that appeared outside her hospital window just as she died.
Lisa was lost from the family for a long time, but I'm happy in the knowledge that we found her when we did, that we could offer support she didn't expect and that she has been reunited in eternity with her mother.
Wednesday, March 16
The Lost Sheep/Coin (Luke 15:4-10)
Jesus said, “Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.
“Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”
Thursday, March 17
“The Case of the Lost Cell Phone” by Sonja Selboe
Cell phones have become an important component of the meaning of life. Who we cling to them, talk to them, panic when we can’t find them or the battery has run down. It’s amazing to see a person, often with no one else around, walking for health’s sake and conversing seriously, thoughtfully, or laughingly to this little electronic rectangle in their hand. My first cell phone was mostly left at home. That was twenty years ago. Today I try to remember to even take it upstairs when I use my computer. Too often it may ring when it’s downstairs on the kitchen table, and I have to hobble downstairs to answer it. When it disappears, it’s handy to be able to call it with my landline phone. However, after a certain time in the evening, it won’t answer and tells me to leave a message. One day I called it, hearing it ring nearby. I kept turning around, looking hither and yon, knowing it was very close by. But where? Finally I remembered I’d stashed it in my back pocket. I felt as joyful as the shepherd carrying his found lamb and the woman who found her lost coin. Thank you, God, for enriching life with the joy of lost things found, even it it’s a cell phone.
Friday, March 18
“What the World is Like” (v. 2, 4) Text by Adam M. L. Tice, b. 1979
What is the world like when God’s will is done? Witness the wandering child coming from home; watch as the parent breaks into a run. This how God longs for us when we roam.
What is the world like when God’s will is done? Ready for feasting, we watch through the night, tending our lamps till the new day’s begun. This is how God readies us for the light.
Saturday, March 19
“Franz Kafka and the Lost Doll” Adapted by Pastor Paul
There is a beautiful story about Franz Kafka, who as a single man at the age of 40 was strolling through Steglitz Park in Berlin. He happened upon a little girl crying her eyes out because she had lost her favorite doll. She and Kafka took time to look for the doll, but without success. Kafka told her to meet him there the next day and they would look again.
The next day, when they had still not found the doll, Kafka gave the girl a letter “written” by the doll that said, “Please do not cry. I have gone on a trip to see the world. I am going to write you about my adventures.” Thus began a story that continued to the end of Kafka’s life.
When they would meet, Kafka read aloud his carefully composed letters of adventures and conversations about the beloved doll, which the girl found enchanting. Finally, Kafka read her a letter of the story that brought the doll back to Berlin, and then gave her a doll he had purchased. “This does not look like my doll,” she said. Kafka handed her another letter that explained, “My trips, they have changed me.” The girl hugged the doll and took it home. A year later, Kafka died.
Many years later, the now grown up girl found a letter tucked into an unnoticed crevice in the doll. The tiny letter, signed by Kafka, said, “Everything you love is likely to be lost, but in the end it will return in a different way.”