"We Really Are the Grass!"

In my job at SAMS (South American Missionary Society->Society of Anglican Missionaries and Senders), each month one of us on staff writes a letter which goes out to our donors along with their receipts, sharing news, stories, or reflections on mission. May was my month, and I was a bit more personal in my reflections than is usual. At any rate, it seemed suitable to post my thoughts here, so here it is:

===========

May 2010



Dear Partners in Ministry,


“All flesh is like grass and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls,but the word of the Lord remains forever.” (1 Peter 1:24-25)

Entering my 50th year this month, I was greeted by an old friend (a year younger than me), who commented, “We really are the grass!” Though 50 may be in the rear-view mirror for many of you, those of us approaching it still see it as a landmark of some significance, and wonder at how fast it is coming (especially those of us who were convinced we’d be raptured some 30 years ago)! This and other more serious events have caused me to think a lot recently on the transience of human life and accomplishments.

My actual birthday coincided with a visit to Virginia to the house my grandparents built 75 years ago. My aunt had rented out the place since her parents passed away, but facing financial hardships herself, had finally had to sell it. This was the last time anyone in our family would be able to gather under that roof or enjoy the spacious yard which had been the scene of so many cook-outs and croquet games. It was the final tract of a 17-acre “Crumbaugh Village” on the edge of Falls Church, and though it was no Monticello, it had stood all these years as a monument to my own connection to “the Greatest Generation.” Knowing that the new owner will likely demolish the building or renovate it beyond recognition made its passing from the family even more sad.

The emotional impact of that, however, was blunted by the fact that the same week my father-in-law had been hospitalized in Richmond with a failing heart. This came as a shock to us all, as for the past 20 years he has kept to a vegetarian diet, walked several miles a day, and done all he could possibly do to avoid just such a fate. God’s love and grace was evident in many ways while he was in the hospital (including the fact that 26 family members were able to visit, some driving from as far away as Montana), and he is home now receiving loving care from his wife (who trained as a nurse years ago). Despite the fact he is once again amazing everyone with how healthy he appears, the doctor’s long-term prognosis is not good.

The incarnation of Christ, and the way he lived his life (“Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!”) teach us that this life is to be enjoyed and lived to the full. But Jesus never lost sight of his mission in this world, and the eternal consequences of what takes place here on this earth. We, too—as individuals and as a society—have a mission to fulfill in this life. While we don’t want to be “too heavenly minded to be any earthly good,” we need to keep focused so that when the Master returns (whether at the last trump or in a personal invitation to Glory) he will find us diligently doing the work he has given us to do. As the plaque on my neighbor’s kitchen reads: “Only one life, ‘twill soon be passed. Only what’s done for Christ will last.”

Blessings,


Dana Priest
Donor Relations Associate