The Rustling of Hearts

The Rustling of Hearts

John 16:5-11

        People see me arguing and sometimes fighting with my friends of all stereotypes (young, old, black white, green, red, blue, gay, straight, or undecided) but my actions speak from one source–parenting.

    There was a time I thought of adopting someone  who had problems at home, and at that time, my supervising counselor for a Master’s program looked me directly in the eye and said: “You have the choice, you can choose the one or the thousands,” the choice was the  “thousands”. 

    In a week of fights, arguing, being talked back to, ignored, and at times hated, I am sometimes surprised with a gift of “sweets”, a moment of reward. This time of relinquishment is one of those sweets.

    Saturday morning I arrived  home exhausted, and  remember little of the previous two days–leaving a friend’s house early because of being  afraid of saying the wrong thing or being rude etc; and sitting with someone who  died of the virus and  taking a young man to the hospital and waiting  for hours. It all goes by now as a blur.

    For I came home and dropped into bed, and remember little. Apparently I picked up a gift for a friend yesterday afternoon, and called the jeweler this morning to ask why I had it in my pocket. I do not remember even talking to the man.

    I find myself exhausted from snap chat, texting, emails, and having difficulty talking about what is seen on the streets, for it is painful and awful. I find myself irritated by the constant advertisements of the beauty of the Stay in Place order when there are thousands who can not “stay in place” because of where they live. I find myself irritated as the talk of “opening” up excites people without concern for the suffering of nearly four hundred thousand people. The past couple of months have been a season of relinquishment, and these present moments  is a season of relinquishment. I can not bring myself to the turn on  my phone. Emotionally and physically drained these days of   relinquishment is  a gift.


    During seasons of relinquishment it can be hard to envision springtime and summer. Jesus disciples must have felt a sense of abandonment when he told them he was going to the Father. Yet Jesus going away cleared space for the Spirit to stir rustling hearts.

    My prayer is for all of us to examine our hearts, and let any residence of winter melt away so that when the Spirit comes in its fullness, our hearts can rustle like new leaves in springtime.

    Three  years ago a friend’s mom gave me a bracelet with the following words inscribed as he and I wrestled with our relationship, as a reminder that all true, meaningful relationships are a struggle, fruit comes from that struggle:

“Seal my soul as you own that your reflection in me may be a light for all too see.”

    Paul writes to the people of Corinth, one plants, another waters, but God gives the growth. Today I am thankful for shoes, acts of love, that find their roots in all of our works, and begins to grow in the grace of God. Deo Gratias! Thanks be to God!


Father River Damien Sims, sfw, D.Min., D.S.T.

P.O. Box 642656

San Francisco, CA 94164


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