Return

Return.

What does "return" mean to you?

A change in direction?

Celebration?

Tears?

This morning, I was reading in an old – too often overlooked book – Zechariah.  I love Zechariah – or what little I know of it. Before my first (and subsequent) triathlons, I'd write a verse inside the collar of my shirt or the band of my hat, "Do not despise these small beginnings, because the Lord is pleased to see the work begin." That comes from Zechariah 4:10.

I didn't get that far in the book this morning. I read only to the third verse in the first chapter before I had to stop, get quiet, and think.

"Therefore, say to the people, 'This is what the Lord of Heaven's Armies says: Return to me, and I will return to you…"

Return.

I didn't get very far praying about it either so I hopped onto Google, typed in "return", and hit "images." Up came the photo above…Hellooo Viggo Mortenson!  I've seen the Lord of the Rings franchise films and I think I enjoyed the "view" and the Hobbit's shire more than the story.  But I do remember crying when the King (Viggo) refused to step into his responsibility to lead the land into the oncoming battle. 

What does all of this have to do with Zechariah 1:3? Gosh, I don't know.  A few unrelated thoughts keep tango-ing through my mind.  Maybe you can help me uncover this persistent thought today (Please?)

• Before I left Manhattan (Manhappiness), Kansas, a missionary from Hungary spoke to our church. He was brutally honest and spoke with heart and conviction. He deflected any applause our laudation. It wasn't about him. He was "just a Hobbit carrying a ring." He bore something infinitely precious that he could not fully understand.  And the way was wretched. And hope was lost. And then it wasn't.
• The  cornerstone verse of my life is Isaiah 30:15, "For thus said the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel, “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.” I'm not a big "rester" and if you've ever run or driven with me…returning is an issue. I don't like to retrace my steps or backtrack. It just burns my biscuits.
• Often "return" is not met with the fanfare we think we deserve. The crowds float by. Family and friends are interested in your tales of adventure for a polite amount of time. Only a few know the life you lived before you returned. Returning-this thing we so hoped for and fantasized about can be so very lonely. (Welcoming parties-we need to remember this).
• Sometimes space is all that's wanted in a return.  Space and a cold frothy beverage in good company
• We can never go so far that the return is impossible
• I love the way that Zechariah says, "Return to me, and I will return to you." We are not on our own. We just start the turn and the Lord of Angels Armies, Big Daddy, begins the race to us. I am so thank ful for this truth.
• The verse doesn't say, "get spiffed up, perfecty, clean, and really holy before entering my presence."  We get to approach the King in our mucked up, vertigoed, kink-tailed, blind, one-eyed, mangy state…only to have the King of the Universe meet us in the returning.
• An image of people carting a wounded and bedraggling buddy in a wonky wheel-barrow-helping their friend to return, comes to mind. Keep praying folks. The King is pleased to see the work begin.

One final thought: Whatever you believe about the conflicts in places hard to pronounce, the soldiers who go to serve deserve our respect.  Whether they understand the issue or not (and who does? money? oil? power?), they go. And in the process of stepping up to their duty, bear witness to unspeakable things. Most go and return with honor. Fear and adrenaline and "not knowing" are too familiar camp mates. If you feel the nudge, will you thank them? If someone starts clapping for a uniformed soldier in the airport, will you join in? Most likely, these are your brothers and sister; sons and daughters; neighbors, the kid who bagged your groceries, or the woman who helped change your tire on the busy freeway.  Thank them as the go or return. You may encourage them in a way that brings them safely home.