Scripture: Mark 6:6b-13
Then he went about among the villages teaching. He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. He said to them, "Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them." So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.
Reflection Questions:
Have you ever set out on a journey where you didn’t know exactly where you were going? How did that experience feel? What new and uncharted territory might God be inviting you to travel today?
Five-minute Story:
On Galveston Island, a couple of years ago, we stayed at a public campground right on the beach. A dune was the only thing that separated my RV from the Springtime waves of the Gulf that crashed upon the sandy shore. As I heard the surf, I could feel my accumulated stress and tension melt from my body. Further relaxation and renewal came from a variety of diversions. My imagination soared as we flew kites on the Gulf shore breezes. Biking on the seawall was a fun way of getting around the town on our power. Playing games at night allowed my family to reconnect.
Reconnecting with family is one of my favorites aspects of camping. Somehow when we are away from the usual distractions of our busy lives, we find it easier to be present to each other. Playing board games or doing a puzzle is great fun. We laugh and enjoy each other in a way that is special. These things remind me of how much I love and want to be with my family.
I also become a little selfish. When I’m away with my family, I don’t want to share them. When we camp, we like to keep to ourselves. Even in close quarters, we are not the kind of campers that are overly social. Don’t get me wrong; I’m polite to our camping neighbors. I will greet them in the morning, might even ask where they are from - but that is the limit of my friendliness. I don’t feel the internal need to get to know my transient neighbors. When I camp, I want to be by myself and with my family. Period.
On the first afternoon of our Galveston camping, a stranger came to our site. He startled me at first because he woke me from a little snooze. My first reaction was suspicious. What did this guy want? Quickly, I found out that his intentions were neighborly. He wanted to share some extra crawfish that he had boiled up. He bought a whole bushel for his family and had plenty extra.
I had crawfish some years ago, but I couldn't remember how they tasted. I know that the rest of my family had not tried them. As I was mentally going through these calculations, my camping neighbor encouraged me to bring a container to his site, which was about three campsites away, and fill up on these tiny shellfish delicacies.
With a bowl in hand, this crawfish neophyte headed toward the stranger's picnic table. As I arrived, I noticed that he had a group of people sitting around the table with mounds of crawfish debris everywhere. In the center was a large tub filled with piping hot crawfish. With a smile, the stranger took my bowl and put in two large scoops. He then proceeded to give me directions on how to eat them.
After I shared my thanks for his generosity, I headed back to my campsite to share this shellfish gift with my family. A line of folks, with bowls in hand, had formed at the stranger's site. I could hear the stranger's joy as he scooped out crawfish and was making friends.