Today is Pentecost Sunday. I’m often reminded of this musing from several years ago. I hope you enjoy it — is a bit of a meandering story. But one that I know brings the Comforter close to my heart.
It was an annual event. Five days of nonstop GO.
I will likely never forget the Tuesday that started at 5:30 a.m. and ended at 2:30 a.m. Wednesday. We were in the Big Apple, and I had already solved a month’s worth of issues, answered a bazillion questions, and bossed enough people.
I was tired. Hungry. Sleep deprived. And ready for rest.
At some point, between McGyver-ing a za-wow-za dress and waking up in a “bed of self pity” and whining for my mommy, I started to crave pancakes and REAL BUTTER. I wanted comfort food in the worst way.
Did I mention I wanted REAL BUTTER?
When I returned home to Dallas, I was never so happy to meet my friend Judy at Norma’s for a full breakfast including a pancake, REAL BUTTER, and syrup.
In working for an international organization, I often talk with people from around the world. On one particular call, I was talking to a colleague in Denmark.
Three o’clock U. S, central time is bedtime for Danish children. My colleague was telling me about how each evening he spends time with his children, they read together, enjoy special time with one another.
I responded that his evening sounded rather cozy.
Excitedly he said. “We have a special word for that in Denmark. It is hyggeligt or hygge.“
When he said hygge the timbre of his voice changed.
In that one word was utter delight.
To explain, I found this:
“The Danes insist the word doesn’t have a direct translation. It’s often compared with ‘cozy,’ but this is incomplete, I’m told. Too simple. It’s a feeling of contentment. It’s about intimacy and candlelight and is one of the great pleasures of social life in Denmark.”From the SF Gate
Just like the Holy Spirit — who wants me to cozy up with him. Comfortable, cozy, content, culture.
My very way of life.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”Jesus the christ: Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV)
Then, I log on to Facebook and read:
“Comfort has become lethal to our bodies, minds, and spirits; as in comfort food, comfort religion, comfort government/politics, comfort morals.”Edgar Bazan (facebook post, May 14, 2015)
We long for comfort.
I saw this play out this week right in my own front oak tree.
Up in my tree sat a little baby blue jay. All beak and blue tinged wings.
Baby blue jay had his little baby feet wrapped tightly around one of the tiniest branches on the oak. If he had knuckles, I’m sure they were bright white.
He wasn’t letting go for anything.
But, momma jay had a different kind of response in mind. I’m pretty sure she was insisting that baby jay needed to learn how to fly.
Baby jay was having nothing to do with it.
Momma bird would squawk. Baby jay would sass back. Momma bird would show baby jay how it was done and fly off. Baby jay would stretch out his wings.
But he still perched right on that tiny twig.
I kept saying, “You can do it little bird.”
“Baby bird you were made to fly.”
You. Were. Made. To. Fly.
I never did get to see it take its first flight. I’m sure that nature took its course and that baby jay is now soaring high.
Comfort could have become lethal if baby jay didn’t learn how to fly.
I have a weird brain. Somehow it tends to make connections with things that are kind of outlandish. Different.
Pancakes and Pentecost and Facebook Posts speak to me in unusual ways. In a weird way these things make sense to me.
It makes sense that Jesus would leave us a Comforter. He prayed that the disciples would receive the Comforter just as they received him. Because we crave comfort. We crave intimacy and connection. We crave the Spirit.
He has come to dwell among us. ❤