Spring Essays 2024

If we loan a book to someone today, next week we could ask for the return of the book we had lent. However, if we talk about loaning books to people, we might say that some loaned books were never returned. The difference between a specific action and a general description somehow affects the past tense of loan. About Lent, the season of 40 days preceding Easter, there is no ambiguity. However, a dictionary cannot come close to describing the different connotations and implications of Lent and can offer nothing about the variety of spontaneous responses we might have to it.

No matter how mature we may be in matters of personal spirituality, we do not control the first feelings that may arise at the mention of Lent. For some, it might only remind us of a religiously related practice of some people we know, while for others the word elicits a slightly uncomfortable feeling of expectations of being challenged to grow or change. Still others sense the interior movement of a desire to become better in some way when they see the word, Lent. No one’s responses can be judged by anyone else, and they are as factually real as books we lent that were never returned.

For Lent to be more than a word that provokes a thought, image, or feeling, we can do what the season is designed to facilitate: reflect on our experiences of loving, especially the habits we are developing that manifest our love in deeds more than in words. A Lent of this kind does not require belonging to a faith tradition, but it is greatly supported and enhanced with communal practices of those religions that quite consciously promote and celebrate the season of Lent.

Some of us “give up” something for Lent, especially a food or drink such as chocolate or a specific beverage, similar to a dieting practice. More challenging would be consciously “fasting” from negative judgments about others, or from focusing on ideas that elicit anger. Others engage in practices such as volunteering, donating, praying, and acting with kindness, whether it is new behavior or adding to already established habits. Although many such things can be done individually and privately, joining in communal efforts with even one other person often provides helpful motivation and accountability for continuing, even if no affirmative feelings accompany these good actions.   

Just as we might believe that the seasons of the year enable life as we know it to exist on earth and are gifts that come ultimately from the loving creation of God, we are invited to consider Lent as a spiritual season for becoming more loving children of God. Rather than being a limited bit of creation loaned to us like a book for a specific time and then returned, Lent is a gift in which God participates with whatever we do to become more loving persons.

Love does not come to an end.

Most of us do not use the word “deem” very often in speaking; we might see it sometimes in our reading, such as, “I deem this the best thing since chocolate,” expressing strong approval or admiration. We are perhaps more accustomed to speaking about redeeming coupons, lottery tickets, or vouchers. As a compound word, “re-deem” can be seen as deeming something worthwhile through a second medium. The winning ticket becomes truly such when it is redeemed for cash or a prize.

Humans who had been enslaved were sometimes redeemed through payments or other means, becoming truly free persons again. In spiritual writings, Jesus is often spoken of as redeemer, who “paid the price” for believers so that they could become free from the consequences of their wrongdoing. Another way of thinking about this kind of redemption is to believe that we were deemed so lovable by God, that any means was acceptable for enabling us to become again lovers, not self-seekers, ready for eternal life after temporal death. 

If we redeem a coupon, ticket, or gaming chip, we can reasonably expect to receive exactly whatever is indicated on it, whether it be money or a prize of some sort. When we think about being redeemed, we are in an entirely different situation, for we are recipients of a relationship with our redeemer. We have no right to being redeemed and are not owed what is essentially a freely given gift of life. Rather, we are deemed worthy quite independently of whatever we have done, given, earned, or accomplished.

Some people might not like to think of themselves as being redeemed, because it somehow diminishes their freedom. However, we can simply ignore the gift that is offered, just as anyone can refuse to accept assistance from any of us. Perhaps the real issue is hidden from consciousness. We might have an unrealistic estimate of what we accomplish on our own, which often goes by the name of pride. We might prefer imagining that we make ourselves who we are, even if we participate in some helpful and complementary relationships with family, teachers, coaches, mentors, and friends. We might have a strong sense of self-acceptance but without acknowledgment of any of our shortcomings, or of those occasions when we failed to live according to our values. Only with a truly honest evaluation of our complete selves, the good and the not-always good, can we appreciate what redemption might mean for us.

There are only positive consequences for acknowledging, accepting, and giving thanks for being deemed worthy of the specific, personal love of Jesus that re-deems us every time we accept it.

For some spaces, a floodlight is often the best means of illumination for seeing clearly whatever is there. A flood of light is much more desirable for reading or viewing than would be soft ambient lighting that is more conducive to conversation where seeing is secondary. No one thinks of the negative meaning of a flood where lighting is an issue because an overabundant amount of water often entails destructiveness or a threat of it, whereas having more light than is necessary rarely causes harm.

The basic meaning of a flood is more about the relative amount of water than about physical danger. A flood of tears can be occasioned by good news or by bad, by powerful graces or strongly felt losses. When people write or speak about being flooded with a deep understanding of life’s meaning or extensive knowledge about the world, or illumination about God, they refer to the overflowing abundance of what is received.

Remembering floodlit experiences can be very encouraging at a time when much of what we see and hear is so poorly illuminated that we can barely discern any truth except for the basic one that God is somehow present, no matter what is happening. When we recall some of the floodlit thoughts, memories, and events of our lives, our hope and trust are, if not flooded, at least given the equivalent of a much-needed glass of clean water. We need to see for ourselves that life does not consist primarily in the ideas that are so easily and carelessly sent forth in all kinds of media, but in experiences. And not just any experiences, but those that enliven, enlighten, and ultimately bring us closer to God, the fulfillment of our lives in love.

When we turn on the floodlight of memory, we can look for previous notable occasions of inspired thinking, for graced insights that made sense of previously confused ideas, and for sudden understandings that might not have been quite at the level of comprehending the mystery of the Trinity but might have been deeply satisfying moments of conviction about God’s loving and abiding presence. These experiences are not usually posted in social media and will never be featured in so-called “breaking news.” But these, and similar events, will continue to illuminate our path so that we can more confidently move forward. These gifts and graces that were individually directed to us in the past do not have time stamps on them like “do not use after xx date.” Rather, they are like “forever” postage stamps, and they even multiply in value as we look at them in our present circumstances.

Even if we can only recall one floodlit occasion, this might provide enough encouragement so that we will turn on the floodlights of our minds and hearts during times of reflection or prayer. We will then see the consoling truth of God’s presence in our experiences. 

In English grammar, “the” and “a” are articles, but this essay can also be called an article, and so can anything specific, including highly detailed legal documents such as articles of incorporation. Sometimes, the term is used in an applied sense, such as, “That person is quite an article,” emphasizing uniqueness.

Words are means of conveying information, but with so many words in use with multiple meanings, we might often wonder whether we understand or are understood even in simple dialogs with persons we know. At least we can ask one another for clarification in such situations. However, written words, especially in very brief messages such as those in many social media, can lead to incomplete understandings and sometimes we can only guess at the intended meanings. Since we are responsible for our decisions, great care is required whenever we lack confidence in knowing the aims of others, or in their understanding of us.

One of the best aspects of prayer is that our intentions, hopes, ideas, and desires are always comprehended entirely, no matter what words we use or even whether we use words at all. Our difficulty with prayer is usually in recognizing God’s responses and initiatives, including the messages that come to us in and through all of creation, including other persons. Language is not the problem, because when God addresses us in words, it is always in our own language, in our own minds. Rather, our perceptions are often inhibited by ordinary human limitations, from short attention span to half-hearted listening, and to involvement in all kinds of attention-dividing distractions.

The reason we use “the” and “a” in speaking and writing, is to limit the subject, because generalities allow for wide interpretations and therefore ease of misunderstanding. God does not relate to us in generalizations, but is always specific, addressing us in our uniqueness as only God knows and loves us. To better perceive whatever is directed to us, it helps greatly to expect simple, direct, communications that relate to our present situation, even if guiding us towards some future action. God is present with us, knowing not only what we think or imagine will be best for us, but what will truly work out for our welfare and that of everyone else.

When we listen carefully to others, we perceive more meaning than is conveyed in words. When we listen to God, it is even more important to not only be open to thoughts and words that might come to mind, but to carefully note the accompanying feelings that match with our previous experiences of God or with increased confusion and desolation which cannot possibly come from God. This is where we exercise our basic trust in God as good, who will never initiate any least movement in us that would lead to evil for us or for anyone else.

The final sentence of this article ends with a period, but the article of faith in God as Good is “the real article.”

Sometimes, “good enough” is a reasonable acknowledgment of limitations and a healthy recognition that seeking a perfect conclusion might not only be unattainable but even attempting it might prevent accomplishment of possible good outcomes. In other situations, “good enough” has the negative connotation of being an excuse for avoiding the efforts required for doing as well as one is capable or a justification for not even considering the possibility of a greater good.

When we say that someone or something is good, we do not propose qualifications or indications of measurement. As soon as we say that someone or something is good enough, we modify goodness, attributing limitations to it. Doing so is often appropriate, but by reflecting on our variable intentions regarding goodness, we can gain insight into our capability of becoming better persons and of facilitating better outcomes for ourselves and everyone else.

We know the distinction between something being good and being good for us. Most foods are good, but some are not good for those with allergies to them. We might say that a meal devoid of all fruits, vegetables, greens, and grains is good enough to sustain life, but we would not as readily call it a good meal, just as we would not describe a dinner as good if we do not like it, no matter how healthy and balanced it might be. In these situations, our judgments about goodness are in relation to us. Sometimes, we even think of other persons in much the same way, ascribing their goodness or lack thereof in terms of how they might be of benefit or hindrance to us.

When we think of ourselves, we might be ambivalent about our goodness. We might not want to call ourselves good, knowing as we do some things about us that were good enough to get by, not the best we could do, or possibly not good. If we have “listened” to God, and to some people who are of a similar understanding, we would have heard that we are good. This is not the same as saying that everything we do or say is good, but instead, that we are more than good enough to be loved. God freely chooses to love us exactly as we are, which bears a truth about goodness that is both mysterious and worthy of pondering every day.

God, who is all-good, creates only whatever is good, including us. Being viewed by God as good does not mean blind dismissal of whatever we do contrary to love of self and one another. Rather, in creating us this day as good, we are invited, inspired, graced, and given God’s Presence within us to become more who we are as good.

This is far better than being merely good enough.

As a morning greeting, “Rise and shine” is usually a way of encouraging others to wake up and become fully alert and to actively participate in whatever is to be done. If the words were directed by the Father to Jesus lying dead in the tomb, the meaning would be only somewhat the same as among us, but with far greater consequences. If we wish, we can exercise our faith and our imagination to consider the fulness of what is intended for both Jesus and for us in such a radical wakeup call.

For Jesus, risen, there is joy at having accomplished his purpose in having become one of us in our weakness and suffering, and joy at sharing with us the consequence of his rising. Human death is not the end, but an experience through which we can join him in his risen state. If we accept the invitation, which is an act of faith on our part, we will unite with him in the ongoing love that motivated his actions on our behalf. His joy will become our joy too.

We might perceive how Jesus “shined” after he rose from the dead, if we reflect on his behavior. Without the least inclination toward vengeance, he went about meeting and encouraging those who believed in him and loved him. Rather than taking the victory over the suffering and unjust killing he had endured as solely a personally satisfying conclusion and thereafter returning to Trinitarian Glory, Jesus literally shined with love in his appearances to those who had learned to trust him, and he initiated the community of love in which we disciples now experience his continuing presence among us.

Although the risen Jesus is not with us in the same way as during the time immediately following his rising from the dead, he continues to shine among us in many and varied ways, still directed to those open to him in faith, no matter how small and unarticulated that faith might be. The same joy of sharing the good news about the consequences of his victory over death is made even more accessible to us than it was among the first generation of Christians, through our having the Gospels. The Spirit of Jesus lives in the stories, enabling us to experience their meaning and for our own spirits to resonate with the goodness and love of God revealed in them.

We can hear the invitation, even at times an urgent movement within us, to rise and shine from preoccupation with all the hurts in the world around us and within us, to focusing our attention on Jesus. When we do that, we open ourselves to his joy as did those who were present when he first responded to the Father’s call, “Rise and shine!” 

One book of the Bible is called “Revelation,” yet all the Scriptures are in some ways revelatory about God. From another perspective, there are manifestations of revelation all through our own lives. So, we might remark about some surprising new information as being a revelation to us. We refer to a far greater reality when we consider God’s revelation of self to us, which takes place in private prayer, reading, studying, working, and recreating, as well as in Scripture and communal religious events. Through these and other experiences we come to know God in a personal relationship.

In almost all our words and actions we implicitly reveal some aspects of who we are to one another. We could pretend to be one sort of person to ourselves and to others, but the revelation of our true selves ultimately circumvents our defensiveness so that we become known as we are anyway. More graciously, though, we consciously reveal ourselves to trusted individuals and groups by sharing with them some of our ideals, strengths, and weaknesses, as well as our hopes and fears. We are involved in revelation of one sort or another quite frequently, which is worth some reflection on our part.

When we consider the difference between being known and loved as we are, and trying to be seen as we might wish we were, the freedom and joy of the former way of living, and the struggle to maintain an image and the fear of being discovered as inauthentic in the latter way, becomes evident. We know that it is far better to be loved in our imperfections than to be thought of as someone who is wholly complete when we know that we are not.

If there is any cause for avoiding self-revelation, it is likely from fear that we will not be loved. One remedy is to think about those we love, and how the more we know of them in the reality of their strengths and weaknesses, the more we love them. Revelation of self, always adapted to the persons with whom we interact, is the way that relationships become possible. Not everyone will befriend us, just as we do not become close with every person who becomes open with us, but all relationships of any value occur through some kinds of revelatory sharing about ourselves.

God, in revealing self to us, cannot exhibit weaknesses and fallibilities that are not there, but in the Person of Jesus, we see frailty and suffering, compassion and integrity of a kind that relates with our humanity. And, if we are willing to engage in some self-revelation with Christ, we will have the experience of being accepted for who we are. The process of revelation goes in both directions, so that we recognize that we are loved and find that we love God and others more and more.

If we keep a journal of some of our experiences with God, it can be our personal “book of revelation.”

When we praise others for their words and actions, especially those that are exceptional, we usually speak exuberantly, accompanying our complimentary and truthful words with appropriate gestures and facial expressions. Imagine trying to offer sincere praise with a straight face, flat tone of voice, eyes cast down, and without any bodily movement. It would be almost an impossibility, because praise comes directly from the heart and manifests itself wholistically. When praising, as we often do, we might spontaneously clap our hands or raise our voices with acclamations, stand up if we are seated, or pump our arms upwards. Praising energizes our bodies and our spirits according to the depth of our appreciation for whomever or whatever elicits the movement within us.

We do not create or cause praising, because it is a spontaneous response to something that we perceive as exceptionally good. In this regard, praising is linked with joy, which is not generated on our own, and which always arises in relation to perceived goodness. Although praise and joy are not of our making, we can, and often do, place ourselves in situations where praising is readily occasioned. We might, for example, choose to participate in specific secular or religious events where there might well be cause for giving praise.

If we are not aware of giving praise very often, we have only to reflect on some of the graces and gifts that make our lives not only possible, but as having a transcendent purpose directed toward a glorious future beyond human comprehension. Such reflections, guided by grace whether recognized as such or not, can easily lead us to forms of praising that might be gentle and quiet, but nonetheless uplifting of our spirits. In the context of faith, we might recall an expression of praising that is especially common in Easter Season: “Alleluia,” which means “Praise God!”

“Alleluia” is used almost exclusively in religious contexts, but it relates to experiences of all people, because sometimes the most whole-hearted form of praising we can give is by singing. We might do this in well-known musical compositions, but sometimes we just open our mouths in spontaneous vocalizations of praise even before our minds or memories provide us with words.

The essence of praising is not about us, but about those to whom we wish to give acclamation and appreciation. Sometimes, we direct our heartfelt sentiments to God, and “Alleluia” is but one way of doing so. And, since the word itself is so well known, many people can participate together, as we do in gatherings of various kinds. The more who take part, the louder the sounds, which not only communicates appreciation more strongly to those being praised but has beneficial effects upon our spirits as well.

Praising is as good or even better for us than for those upon whom we focus our praise.

Sometimes, we might find it hard to admit that we do not know. If it is information or knowledge that we lack for someone who asks, our disappointment is likely related only to our desire to be of help, which is a positive orientation. If we do not know something that we think we should know, we might then be disappointed in ourselves, believing that we have failed, and hence the discomfort. We can easily assume that not knowing is a fault, rather than a plain fact. One of the gifts of reflecting on our experiences of not knowing is that we may recognize truthfully and honestly, that on most occasions, our not knowing is without any error on our part and that they are opportunities for accepting the reality of our human limitations.

The accumulation of facts, such as are found in on-line databases, have increased beyond the capacities of the most intelligent or memory-capable persons on earth to comprehend and retain. Knowing how and when to make use of such factual sources is often called wisdom. This kind of knowing is not held in databases or even in Artificial Intelligence applications. The decisions we make that are based on our capabilities of intuition and especially trust in occurrences of inspiration, are far more consequential than those based on the sole gathering of relevant facts.

Not knowing what to do is far more problematic for us than not knowing who starred in which movie. The knowledge we need for dealing with the realities we are facing is more important than knowing facts about the situation, and yet the two forms of knowing are closely related. Without facts, and having only mere opinions available, we are truthfully in a position of not knowing what to do. Better by far to seek trustworthy information where it may be found, and to pray also for wisdom and inspiration, than to act on unsubstantiated ideas, no matter how strongly stated.

Just as knowing where to find reliable information is a form of wisdom, so is knowing when and how to seek thoughts and ideas from the source of all facts, knowledge, and truth. When we need to make decisions, no matter how much we may know about a specific situation, we cannot know all the possible consequences of whatever is to be decided. When we invite God into our pondering and seek inspiration, we will probably not receive a vocal command or a step-by-step list of action items. However, if we pause long enough to become consciously aware that we are asking help from Infinite Love, one or more clear inspired thoughts may be well be what we receive and exactly what we need.

Not knowing can be an experience of insufficiency that invites us to relate directly with God who is our complete sufficiency. 

Most of us know about oil that is extracted from the earth and how it can be used for fuel and for lubricants, either directly or after being processed. Other oils we use are made from vegetables, olive oil being perhaps the most well-known. But there are many, including oils that are infused with a variety of flavors and scents for cooking or for body lotions. There are so many and varied ordinary uses of oil that we might not be aware of how much they are a part of our lives or how they can be purposed for spiritual ends. 

Sometimes we speak about oil as it is, a physical substance of many kinds, and we also use metaphorical references to oil when relating it to human experiences of goodness and grace. We might, for example, talk about someone as being the oil that makes table conversation flow smoothly, or someone who exerts a soothing influence on people, just like oil on dry skin. Alternatively, we may hear or say, in some contexts, that we need some “oil of gladness” for ourselves or for others. We might or might not use some kind of oil, but we always mean that we desire healing for matters of mind and heart as well as for bodies.

From ancient times, oil has been used for healing, both physical and spiritual. Catholics are not the only ones who have a practice of praying for healing while at the same time anointing with oil. No one who has had oil applied even just to their hands when accompanied by prayer can easily appreciate how appropriate the sign of oil is when used for healing of hurts both physical and spiritual. Only in our minds can we separate our bodies from our spirits, for we are whole persons in whom our thoughts and feelings affect our bodies, and our bodies provide the essential means for thinking and feeling. 

When oil is used as part of healing, the sense of touch fittingly complements the notion of healing and encourages trust that the intangible action of prayer is just as real as touch. When a parent soothes a child by gently rubbing it as well as speaking or even just making a calming sound, the action is effective because love is always a healing power. Among us, the gesture of touching the hand of someone who is suffering is also an expression of care that bears the effective healing power of love. How much more effective then, are the combined actions of anointing with oil and praying, whether in the Sacrament of Healing or in an informal but fully intentional healing service.

Oil and water might not mix in a jar, but oil and prayer mingle easily in a context of healing love. 

Those who hide something from us, choose to make it hidden. We know that other things are hidden from us, but not by anyone’s deliberate choice. When we search for something that we know someone has hidden from us, we use all our powers of reasoning and perhaps consult others, treating the episode as a challenge which we hope to overcome. Other things that are hidden, we go about finding in a different way, still using our minds, but with much more sensitivity to our hearts. Much in life is mysterious, so we can reverence that truth, and open ourselves to inspired understanding instead of struggling to gain mastery of whatever is hidden by sheer force of will.

Sometimes we work very hard at trying to compose the right message for accurately conveying important information to another person. We might also have experience of a different approach, waiting for the message we need to become clear in our minds and hearts before then committing it to words. Neither way is always better, but most of us have learned that the more we focus only on the first, the more tense we become with less progress, and when we allow what is hidden to appear, it often does. Our desire to find what is hidden is essential, but we can make wise choices about how to seek what we want so that we might find it in a truly satisfying manner.

There is much about the universe that is hidden from us, even of things on earth that we once thought were fully known. Even more, there is much that is hidden within us that we have not yet recognized. When it comes to all that is hidden about God, no one can even imagine being able to comprehend who God is. Yet, we can go peacefully through our days growing in knowledge and experience of all three of the above realities, without becoming frustrated or failing in any way, although we never find even a major part of all that is hidden.

Love is not about keeping things hidden, but neither does love move us to reveal everything as if all information was equally valuable or always appropriate. God, as Love, does not hide things from us, but neither is all revealed to us, for Love knows when we are ready to know ourselves and others better, and when we are ready to know more of God. From the perspective of love, the best way to deal with whatever is hidden, is to do what we can by our own capabilities, following the graces of the moment, and trusting that there is no need to force our way forward even with those matters that have been deliberately hidden.

Intuition, insight, and inspiration cannot be forced, but we can learn through reflection and practice how to seek whatever is hidden as part of responding to God, who is Love.

In places where the temperature can become zero Fahrenheit and below, antifreeze is necessary for liquid-cooled engines. Modern cars use antifreeze coolant in their systems year-round, rather than only in cold weather.  In the compound word, “antifreeze,” the “anti” part provides the basic meaning that the liquid is essentially against or contrary to the possibility of freezing. However, most of us think of antifreeze as a preventative of the various problems that frozen liquid would cause within an engine’s cooling system. At least for purposes of a coolant, being “against” freezing does not imply hostility, but rather the prevention of harm.

A great many “anti” movements and expressions that we see continually reported in the media would be much more helpful for society if they were aimed at preventing harm instead of exercising force against other persons or practices and thereby causing more harm. For ourselves, we continually face situations every day when we decide whether to focus our energies on being against whatever we consider as in need of correction or on being for whatever can be done to heal disorder or prevent greater harm.

At the sight of perceived injustice, wrong-doing, or erroneous thinking, anger is often aroused within us. The easiest response might seem to be that of immediate “anti” thinking or action, but it might very well be the lesser good as to how we make use of the energy of our anger. Anger is a feeling, not a reason nor a causal force, but it energizes us for whatever action we decide upon as correct for the present situation. If we insist with ourselves that we are in control, not our immediate feelings, we might decide that we need more information before acting, having learned from previous experiences that there could well be more going on than we at first perceived.

Most of us can recall some incidents when we were angry but held back long enough before speaking or acting to become aware whether our intent was to be helpful to others or to satisfy our sense of being “right.” We are humans, and prone to believe that whatever we think is true should be understood and accepted by everyone else. A bit of honest reflection on our own past is a wonderful corrective for such thinking, for we have modified and gained deeper, broader, and more inclusive understanding of the positions we now see as appropriate. We did not jump from one sense of truth to an opposite, but we, and therefore we can assume everyone else, learn from our personal experiences and change or modify our beliefs according to the new information, insights, and inspirations we have received.

Let the antifreeze in our hearts be for the sake of preventing wrong judgment rather than focusing on what we think is “wrong” with others.

The Beatles once sang “Hello Goodbye,” as an expression of duality in communication between two persons. However, although we all have occasions when we greet and when we take our leave, we usually do so not in opposition, but as complementary aspects of our relationships. On a phone call, our hello is usually at the beginning with goodbye at the end. When those we live or associate with leave for the day or for longer, we wish them well with a goodbye and later, welcome them back. These are occasions not of separation but of unity.

We also welcome people into our lives and sometimes welcome new ways of making sense out of life itself when we have no thought of ever saying “Goodbye.” With matters that are more of the spirit than of physical limitations, we are much freer as to our taking in and our letting go. We might, for example, spontaneously say “Hello” to a sudden and welcome opportunity that comes to us, and likewise say “Goodbye” to a concept or perspective that we now recognize as no longer belonging in our lives.

In our relationship with God, as with everyone else, a greeting of some kind is appropriate when we meet, as is also an acknowledgment of leave-taking when we part. Ignatius of Loyola, who had learned about courtesy while being educated in the court of a royal official, taught that whenever we consciously enter the presence of God in prayer, we should begin with the equivalent of a hello, rather than just starting to talk about what might be on our minds. Likewise, Ignatius urged upon those who had come to the end of a conversation with God, even when no words had been involved, to make a conscious expression of conclusion rather than to just move on to other activities.

In our closest relationships, we have many ways for expressing welcome into our personal spaces that are informal and often non-verbal, just as we also have a variety of signals for when a specific interaction is about to end. Subtle as some of these hellos and goodbyes might be, they communicate love very effectively, while their absence might give the impression, or even reflect a reality, of taking someone for granted. We do not want to be taken for granted ourselves, and although we and God can still love those who do not observe such courtesies of care, our relationships are improved by use of them and diminished without them. 

Whether we sing, speak, or relate without words, our manner of greeting and of parting usually contain the clearest signs of the depth of our appreciation for those with whom our lives are interwoven. Our ways of communicating hello and goodbye convey the truth that is in our hearts.