Steve

The Treasure Hunter

Steve · December 14, 2010 · 7 Comments

Lake Sahdow — Lake Shadow self portrait, Steve Givens

(a short story) PART ONE

—

Professor Arthur Tollers was walking along the gravel beach of Raccoon Cove when he heard a faint beep. He stopped in his tracks, backed up a step and waved his metal detector wand once again over the spot where he had heard the electronic tone. He stooped, with a groan, and poked around in the gravel until the tone became loud and consistent. He turned over two or three small stones and then he saw it. Treasure! He pocketed the quarter and resumed his Saturday morning walk along the beach.

Six months ago, Tollers had retired from St. Francis College in southern Missouri, a small, Catholic [Read more…] about The Treasure Hunter

Advent Week 2: Just what are we waiting for?

Steve · December 5, 2010 · 3 Comments

Natural Light — Carmel Mission Light, photo by Steve Givens

Everybody knows that Advent is a time when we wait and prepare for the coming of Jesus at Christmas. That’s what we’ve been taught since childhood. But what does it really mean to us today if, in fact, we believe that Jesus is already here, moving and working among us? Just what are we waiting and preparing for?

What we should be preparing for is Christ’s birth (or rebirth) in us. So this year, in the midst of all the preparations for Christmas, make Advent a time for seeking God’s will. Like wise men and shepherds drawn to a manger in Bethlehem, seek out and find Jesus in your life, then seek out and discern God’s will for your life. Instead of planning for New Year’s resolutions that will disappear as quickly as dried-out Christmas trees, plan for a new year and a new life in which Christ is at the very core.

We sometimes find ourselves waiting for God to act in our lives. We pray: “Please, God, do this and then I’ll be able to do that.” But praying this way, instead of empowering us to action, often paralyzes us from doing anything at all. We sit and wait for God to act or respond, when all the time we are forgetting what God has already given.

We come to each new day with a body inherited from our parents and strengthened (or weakened) by our lives and activities. We come with an intellect that has developed through years of education and experience. But whatever the strengths or weaknesses of our bodies and minds, when God the potter applies His hand we become so much more. We become a work of art ready to proclaim the glory of the artist. Our only role in this transformation process is to allow ourselves to be shaped. To do this, we must give in to the will of the Creator. We must allow God to be a part of every decision that we make. We must place all of our important decisions in God’s hands. We must live our lives so people can see Christ in us. And there’s no better time to start than right now, during this season of preparing and waiting.

Our ultimate profession of faith is our ability to proclaim with each new day: “I’m yours, Lord. Do what you want with me.”

Waiting for Christ with Bright Eyes

Steve · November 30, 2010 · 3 Comments

prayer — Praying at the Carmel Mission Basilica, Carmel-By-The-Sea. Photo by Steve Givens

When author Toni Morrison was once asked how she became a great writer, she responded, “I am a great writer because when I was a little girl and walked into a room where my father was sitting, his eyes would light up. That is why I am a great writer.”

That’s a great lesson in parenting and, as we enter the season of Advent, it’s also a wonderful parable of faith. Children naturally get excited when December rolls around and their thoughts turn to presents, parties and Santa. But even as their excitement level rises, we adults sometimes respond with a corresponding drop in energy and life. To put it bluntly, our eyes are not always bright when December and Advent arrive. We’re just too tired.

The truth is, we all sometimes get a bit drowsy during these cold, short, often dreary and dark winter days leading up to Christmas. We get tired of our jobs, tired of the holiday rush and the onslaught of shopping and parties, tired of our responsibilities and the seeming sameness of our lives. We get physically tired and emotionally tired. And, yes, we get spiritually tired. Our prayer life can become listless or non-existent. Our family life can feel dogged and overwhelming. Our sacramental life can begin to feel like we’re on autopilot. Our hearts, just as Jesus warns us in Luke 21:34, can become “drowsy.”

The Spirit of a Piece of Land: Nearer My God to Thee

Steve · October 31, 2010 · 2 Comments

Sue and I own a sloping patch of land in central Missouri where we have a small, 50-year-old weekend cabin on the shore of the Lake of the Ozarks, a sprawling, man-made, spider of a body of water, created by the damming of the Osage River back in 1931 and dotted now with houses and jet skis. But it’s a nice quiet getaway, especially this time of year, when the crowds and most of the loud boats have disappeared for the season. It’s our favorite time of year.

The dam created one of the Midwest’s favorite (and most beautiful!) summer playgrounds, but it no doubt took with it the history and culture of those who lived here before, and I do think of that often. What exactly was right here on our little plot before the dam I cannot say. Maybe just a shady corner of a majestic and ancient forest akin to that which still exists as you move in all directions away from the lake, but perhaps more. Maybe someone’s home, someone’s church, someone’s grave.

And before then? Before the coming of the white man? Perhaps where I sit right now typing on my laptop a young tough-skinned Osage Indian crouched in his very first hunt, his bow drawn and his eyes locked on a 16-point buck making its way gingerly through the trees to drink from a sliver of a stream.

The point is this: We don’t really own the land. We are given the blessing of calling bits and pieces of it “home” for a while, but it belongs to the creator and to the lives of all who have touched it and worked it and walked it over the years.

Tim Grimm performing at our house concert series. Photo by Fred Volkmann.

Trapped in History: The Strange Case of Levi Dust

Steve · October 21, 2010 · 3 Comments

“People are trapped in history and history is trapped in them.” — James Baldwin

One day back in the mid-1980s, I was walking through the Missouri Historical Society’s History Museum in St. Louis’ Forest Park. On display was an exhibit of paintings by 19^th-century St. Louis artists. They were very nice, I guess. But one painting reached out and grabbed me by the lapels, shook me violently and said, “Pay attention here!” The person portrayed in the painting, Levi Dust, has been with me ever since and has played a key role in several creative endeavors.

The painting, by artist Matthew (Mat) Hastings, showed an older African-American man in the middle of a dirt street, children running around him and tugging at his clothes. In his upraised hand he held a handbell. I was intrigued. What was going on in this picture? I leaned in. How could I not?