A little journey through this topsy-turvy journey of joys and sorrows and hopes and dreams with plenty of grace from God along the way.

So, here we go again: Rally Sunday combined with Make a Difference Sunday and add in “God’s Work. Our Hands.” Sunday, just to make things even more interesting to start our new year, of sorts, of choir rehearsals, Bible studies, meetings, and multiple Sabbath worships. And such is the fuller calendar reality for many faith communities, whether those of our Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) expression, or otherwise. What is also the reality of “God’s Work. Our Hands.” is that it is brought to life far more frequently than just the weekend after Labor Day for many of our siblings ELCA congregations.

When most of us hear mustang, we tend to think of an impressive car, perhaps a song, maybe a regal horse; but there’s also a most majestic place on the other side of the world that bears the name. Dating back to the 14th century, it was supposedly founded and shaped to be a walled capital city to a kingdom where Buddhist religion, philosophy, and art mutually thrived. And although it was able to avoid outside influences with its mountainous enclosed location, it eventually grew due to its strategic location on a vital trade route. And although the more modern future insisted it be part of a surrounding nation, Mustang, also known as “The Last Forbidden Kingdom,” was permitted to keep their monarchy with the royal line dating back to that 14th century beginning, drawing its conclusion in 2008. It is a rather simplistic overarching history of one of the most beautiful places in a nation whose images are revealing anything but beauty.

Yesterday (August 25), a musical and cultural icon for many in Dolly Parton died at 80 years young. I will be the first to admit that the genre of her singing fame, may not be my favorite necessarily. Nevertheless, in recent years, Dolly has become cherished in our household for a completely different reason, one that has been appreciated by seemingly countless young families for three decades.

During this month of August, when we intentionally include time during our worship gatherings to bless students, as well as this Sunday (the 23rd) for teachers, faculty, staff, Sunday school teachers, bus drivers, custodians, and all those who will be shaping youth for the upcoming school year, we also need to offer a blessing to the parents and families as well. As the planning and shopping and coordinating drop-off’s and pick-up’s conclude, now the academic and sports and bands and choirs and all other extra-curricular activity for the younger life requires them to hit the ground running, not allowing much time for them or their responsible adult figures to take a breath and soak it all in. Holy moments of growth and struggle and learning and life-shaping memories will ensue to be sure, and so we lift up parents, grandparents, guardians, and all those who will be responsible to oversee the movements from A to B and C and well, well beyond; not to mention, hopefully, providing some space and time for continued love to nourish it all.

This weekend (August 15/16), we will not only recognize, but celebrate, Mary, Mother of our Lord. One way she continues to impact our worship life is her Magnificat, the song of praise that emerges in Scripture while she’s visiting her cousin, Elizabeth, in Luke 1. My favorite setting of it comes from our treasured Holden Evening Prayer. This was composed by Marty Haugen, a rather prominent musician in Lutheran and Catholic circles (in fact, he’s responsible for the settings of “Healer of Our Every Ill,” “We Walk by Faith,” and “All Are Welcome,” among many others, in our Evangelical Lutheran Worship red hymnal). Holden Evening Prayer was brought to life by Haugen amidst the snowy landscape of Holden Village, a contemplative retreat center, in Washington in the mid-1980s. The collection of songs has been sung by numerous communities of faith throughout this country and around the world ever since. And although it is often brought to life during Lent, the message applies throughout the year: