You're Singing Again...

A Thrill of Hope

2011-12-09T13:07:00.001-06:00

I was reading an article last week from Relevant magazine all about Advent. It quoted a couple of Christmas carols, one of which was "O Holy Night."

I'm sure it wasn't supposed to be that part of the article that caught my attention - the whole thing was good - but for some reason the words of "O Holy Night" stood out like they haven't before.

I think it's that word "thrill."
"A thrill of hope..."

I don't think I express extreme emotions very often.
Emotions, yes, but not the absolutely miserable or completely ecstatic kinds.
Like a thrill.
When I think of being thrilled, I'm thinking of things in the marriage proposal category.
Or someone having a baby.
Or bungee jumping off a bridge.
Although that's more of a rush and not really in the same category.
But it's that kind of crazy excitement.
I'm pretty sure I say I'm thrilled sometimes.
Thrilled to have my report cards finished.
Thrilled to be able to be a part of something big.
Even thrilled to beat all the Angry Birds levels.

But I'm not sure that's what this thrill is about.
The coming of the Christ-child -
"the weary world rejoices!"

A weary world I can identify with.
Too busy to rest, to relish in the simple joys of creation, family, and community.
Too caught up in the rush to really revel at the mystery and incredible gift of Christ.
Overworked, scrambling to make ends meet, bogged down by realities of sickness, brokenness, insecurities, and fears.

And wondering why.
Why the hurt?
Why the exhaustion?
Why the discontentment and lack of peace?

That is why He came.
To offer hope to a broken world.
That we may see Him and know Him.
And know the peace that only He can give.

May you find His joy this Advent season
and be thrilled because a baby WAS born,
and may you wait, with eager expectation,
for the return of the One who grants the hope and peace that this "weary world" needs so deeply.

Irony

2011-11-21T10:29:00.001-06:00

Less than a day after posting about all the time I had, I was with a group of friends and we were talking about how I only had 4 and a half weeks left before our time in GR would be up.
I had just been feeling so refreshed.
And suddenly, it seems like it's back to a list of things to accomplish in 4.5 weeks (almost 3.5 now!)
and knowing that most of our weekends are planned,
and that we have to start thinking of how to use up the food in the cupboards,
and all that not quite as fun stuff.

I had a quiet afternoon when I got home that day.
I even took a nap for the better part of the afternoon.
And then I stayed home instead of going to hockey,
and just enjoyed having time with us.

No agenda - just time.
(It may have resulted in the purchase of an updated version of Angry Birds - it is important for one who has trouble with science to invest in practical ways to build scientific skills - like the physics of the trajectory :)...)
And once again, good.

I am learning how important rest is.
It's something I've known - and realized often -
but I am reminded again and again.
One of these days, I just might get it.

So, this week has been more rest.
On Thursday, before heading to Toronto for the weekend, I enjoyed an hour of singing/strumming with Picking and Grinning - banjo, mandolin, guitars, horn, harmonica, a little piano, a fiddle, and some singing - bluegrassy music like "I'll Fly Away", "This Little Light of Mine", and "This Land Is Your Land." Good stuff.

Then we headed to Toronto and have spent the weekend with my grandma - chatting, playing games, playing guitar, eating the goods that Grandma's place always has, and visiting with my aunt and uncle, and some cousins. My dad even managed to make it in for some of the visiting.

Today we're off to meet with some of Ken's cousins en route to home - and then get organized to have his folks visit for a few days.

In light of American Thanksgiving, I'm reminded again of how much we have to be grateful for.
So much.
We are blessed.

And filled with opportunities for rest.
And this might be a good time to point out that I don't have to do report cards this week.
That in itself makes me feel quite rested!
Although, I have been thinking more about being back in the classroom.
It's good to put my head back into that space and think about the rest of the year ahead.

"In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength..." Isaiah 30:15

Be rested and refreshed - and thankful.
Happy American Thanksgiving!

The Gift of Time

2011-11-14T20:23:00.001-06:00

When I had a wedding shower a year and a half ago, my friends gave me the gift of time.
It was brilliant.
We were given gift cards for movies and dinners of all kinds, a night away, and a clock.
Brilliant.
We enjoyed every piece of that gift.

It seems this fall, we have been given that gift all over again.
It looks a little different this time, but it is SO good.

I don't think I have heard my own voice say, "I can do it. I've got time," as often as I have in the last 3 months. It has been such an incredible treat.
Time for cooking. And baking bread.
Time for exercising.
Time for reading. (Although I haven't read nearly as much as I thought I would. It's amazing how quickly time passes, even with "nothing" to do!)
Time for reflecting and writing.
Time for us.
Time for serving others without having to set aside special time to make sure it happens.
Time for friends and just stopping to chat as opportunities arrive.

I love it.
The question is, how to make this a reality when our time here is finished.
Because that really is something I'd like to achieve on some level.

Time for life - for loving, and laughing, and really living to the fullest.
It's so wonderfully refreshing and good for my soul.

No rush for now;
I have been given the gift of time to figure it out. :)

Possibility...

2011-11-06T19:22:00.001-06:00

So I'm not re-committing just yet. Although I did do some writing last week and realized just how much I enjoy it, and how great of a means of expression it is for me. I think I learn a lot about what I'm actually thinking when I write, so I just may have to get back on this bandwagon.

For now, however, a short thought about community.
In my writing last week, I commented on how blessed I was to be part of a pastor's family.
Strange thought, I know. Often there are a lot of negative images and phrases that come to mind when someone talks about being a pastor's kid or pastor's wife.
I realized how much of a blessing it is to walk into a church and be known by others.
People know who you are, say hello, ask about your week, and take the time and interest to know about you because they know who you are.
As a result of this, I've had the blessing of quickly getting to know others in the church. Because of conversations they often initiated with me, I got to know who they were.

We've been in a different community for 9 weeks now.
Granted, we haven't been to the same church more than once.
There are over 120 CRCs within about an hour radius of where we're living.
Ridiculous, really, but another topic all together.
What I've come to realize once again is the importance of community.
We've found community in different ways here - soup night, fellow classmates, Bible study, sports teams, and neighbours.
However, there is a community which we are familiar with and appreciate on Sundays.
A group of people who know our names; whom we feel free to worship with; whose style of worship is familiar. People who ask about our week and care to hear the answer. People who know us, and who we sometimes don't have to say a lot to in order to know that we belong.
In the churches we've visited, we have yet to find one that is similar to the one we worship in at home.
We have yet to find one where we've quickly said, "Let's go there again next week!"
We show up, shake hands with strangers, share Lord's Supper with strangers even, but I have felt a distinct emptiness upon coming home.
It's not home.
And we miss it.
Not to say we're not enjoying our time away. We are. It's good. So good.
But it's not home.
It's a healthy longing.
One that was created deep within us.

A desire for home.

6 weeks to go. That's crazy.
But when it comes, it will be good to be back in Winnipeg.

There's another deep longing for home.
It's different.
And hopefully much farther off.
Because I'm enjoying my time here.
God is good.

Do Not Be Afraid

2009-12-30T11:05:00.001-06:00

The angels making visits in the year before that first Christmas had important messages to give.
They told of John the Baptist’s coming,
of the birth of Jesus;
they assured a man who feared for his own reputation and the integrity of the woman he had committed to marry,
and they announced to a group of tired, lowly shepherds the arrival of a baby king who was to save the world, and could be found in the town nearby.

The angels knew they were messengers of God. They knew that what they had to share was real and true, but they also knew something of the people they had come to visit. Whether it was their own appearance, the shock of the sudden presence of a stranger speaking, perhaps the messages themselves, or even the pieces of the journey that each recipient found themselves traveling; the angels’ messages were the same: Do not be afraid.

“Do not be afraid, Zacharias. Your prayers have been heard.”
“Do not be afraid, Mary. God loves you dearly.”
"Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife!”
"Do not be afraid!” the angel said to the shepherds. “Listen, I bring you glorious news of great joy which is for all the people.”

To each the message was really the same: God is bigger than you, and He’s asking you to join Him in celebrating, in carrying out a part of His story, in walking in faith. Don’t be afraid – He knows what the journey ahead looks like.

A new year is ahead and we have an opportunity; a chance to step forward acknowledging as the old English hymn writer did that “this is [our] Father’s world” and “God is the ruler yet.”

We step ahead knowing that the year past held many reasons to celebrate and praise God for His faithfulness and enduring love in our own lives and in the lives of our families.

We also step ahead knowing that the year past held details of brokenness that we don’t always like to talk about.

In all of this, both the joys and the challenges, the truths of God and His unfailing promises have been constant. Deeper than just in His promises, God has been sovereign and He is faithful.

So as we move into the year ahead, may we be reminded not to be afraid.
May we be reminded that God is bigger than us, and He asks us to join Him in celebrating, in carrying out parts of His story, doing so by walking in faith.

Happy New Year!

Thanks.

2009-12-20T20:22:00.002-06:00

I was humbled yesterday
by a middle aged
regular lady
who took a moment
to make a point.

I was in line at the check-in counter at the airport.
Ahead of me was a soldier in his traveling uniform.
He adjusted his hat more than once.
I even watched him as he put on his dog-tags.

Out of nowhere, a woman came from behind us,
interrupting the conversation he was having with his girlfriend.
She simply stopped,
put out her hand,
and said, "I just wanted to say thank-you."
He shook her hand,
and she turned and walked away.

It was so simple,
yet so clear.

Thanks.

Attitude Check

2009-10-31T13:05:00.002-05:00

Seems funny to write about an attitude check when I think for the most part, my attitude has been very "in check" these days.

God is good.
And the visual dance moves I displayed at a worship practice a couple of weeks back may be proof of that.
I don't generally exhibit dance moves.
However, they seem to be becoming part of my reality and the fun that goes with reminding myself that joy is real and joy is good has removed the shame from demonstrating my lack of skill in the rhythm department. (I'd like to offer kudos to my high school youth friends for this recent revelation.)

However, about the attitude check...
A huge piece of my life as of late has been one of those pieces where a forced response of "good" seemed to be the answer when anyone asked how it was going.
And it was good,
only I was letting the not-so-good be the reigning voice in my head.
I've been frustrated and so coming up with the very diplomatic, politically correct responses that sometimes go hand in hand with trying to be "proper" and pretending to be real at the same time seemed the only good response.

I had a chance to sit and reflect for an afternoon this week.
A treat for anyone,
but I took it as a gift.
I had a number of hours to step back and find the good in what has only been "good".
And I found a lot.
Many reasons to see the gifts,
to acknowledge the hearts,
and to see what really lies beneath the surface.

It seemed more than complete irony, then,
when I opened my evening devotional only to discover that the focus of the day's reading was on attitude.

The writer talked about how difficult situations have the opportunity to harden us or soften us.
We can respond to "heat" as clay,
and let it harden us and make us brittle,
or we can choose to be wax,
inviting the heat to mold and shape us.

It was then that I realized how necessary my afternoon had been.
How God was reinforcing in me the need to trust Him with the tough stuff;
to know that He wants to mold and shape us
and that He wants us to find Him in each piece of our lives.

Because He's there.
And when it seems like He isn't,
it's because I'm choosing not to look for Him.
Or letting myself be convinced that I can figure it out on my own and so I don't really need to invite Him to step toward me and identify His presence.
Sometimes it means just re-evaluating the way I'm praying.
Perhaps not asking for what I think is needed,
but simply allowing Him to mold me and make me what He wants me to be.

Because when I'm open to it,
and really trusting,
and really seeing each part of my life
as His and not really mine at all,
my perspective changes
and brings the joy
that lets me laugh
and really, truly answer that indeed,
it's very good.

The Singing Has Only Begun

2009-08-09T00:03:00.003-05:00

My Grandma loved life and loved to laugh.
From the simple –
Saskatoon berries and fresh raspberry jam –
To the more involved –
like purposely pouring tea from her plastic cup onto her plastic saucer to create a vacuum and have a the saucer rise to her mouth as she sipped. We would giggle waiting for the saucer to fall, each eating the 3 or 4 Smarties we had to eat with our tea.

As I spent time with my cousins this week preparing for my Grandma's funeral,
we came up with lots of little details –
lots of ways that she made the most of each opportunity.

Grandma loved having her grandkids over.
There were sleepovers in the basement of the old house
in the room with the old record player and the pink stitched quilts.
We could always count on Mountain Dew in the fridge
and a roll of orange or red RANG candies for the drive home.
If we were lucky, we would have Fruitella candies, too.
Grandma loved to spoil us with sour cream and onion rings and cheezies and we were reminded of what a treat it was to her when we were given the exact serving size. Grandma would have us over to bake shortbread cookies sliced from a roll and to make ollie-ballen over the stove.
Ice cream at Grandma’s came from the 2L boxes –
in slices on a plate as opposed to scoops in a bowl.
Currants were served rolled in sugar,
and meatballs were counted as each ladle-ful was poured out.
It was always a competition.

No matter how we handled ourselves in her home,
Grandma was never upset with us.
We could spill or break a rule,
and somehow we always felt that she was gentle and like we had done nothing wrong.

Grandma was sneaky and had what we might call the Scheper family’s ability to enjoy finding the loopholes in life in a seemingly innocent way, laughing about it as she went; from cheating at board games, using Dutch words in Scrabble, to making a profit on the brown eggs we sold to her from our own chicken coop as she sold them to her friends at Summit Village for a higher price.

Grandma was affectionate for someone from her generation.
We always knew without a doubt that we were loved.
We sat on her lap and received many strong hugs.
Even when she could no longer find English words to tell us how she was feeling,
she would squeeze our cheeks and give us “kusses” on both cheeks,
grinning from ear to ear.

Grandma loved adventure –
from the trip across the ocean long before our time,
to determining that she should go down the slide at the children’s park,
breaking her ankle on the way down.
Until she was at least 80,
she was taking the stairs and kicking her leg over her shoulder
to show us how flexible she was.
As much as we put our arms out for safety and held our breath,
she was relentless and proved our fears wrong each and every time.

Grandma’s childhood memories came to us in chuckles as she would tell of how they each smoked a cigarette for dessert after supper. When we visited as teens and adults, she would sit on the porch with those who smoked, smile, and inhale deeply, saying, “Blow it in my face!”

As we said our final goodbyes to Grandma this week,
we acknowledged that we have in many ways been saying good-bye for the last number of years.
It has been difficult watching her slip away,
but we have also had opportunities to see her laughter and joy in the simple things come out more clearly.
Grandma said good-bye very well. She would wave in the hallway as we left her apartment in Summit Village until we were around the corner. When we walked to our cars, she moved to the balcony and continued to wave as we drove out of the parking lot.

As one of us said this week, “Each time I think of her before and from here on, I will have many reasons to laugh.”
"Man-a-life," she might say, and we’d echo her voice and say she was more than a "honderd percent."

A few r-rolling tra-la-las are a good addition to an already incredible choir.
91 years is a long time,
and Grandma has only started singing.

So honest...

2009-06-25T20:53:00.002-05:00

At the end of every school year, I ask the kids to give advice for the upcoming grade 5 class. Most of the advice is pretty straight-forward: do your homework, don't interrupt the teacher, cheer for the Oilers (that's straight-forward, isn't it?), and so on.

Some years I get humbling thoughts or encouraging remarks.

One in particular stood out today:

"Miss Van tells a lot of jokes. Laugh even when they aren't funny."

I had to chuckle. I thought it was going to say something to the effect of "so that keeps things interesting." However, apparently in order to survive grade 5, it is important to humour me and make me feel good about myself.

At least they're honest.

About that Audible Gasp...

2009-06-06T19:53:00.003-05:00

I send my regrets for never blogging about the audible gasp.
It's still a good story.
And one that I may choose to write about at a later date,
but for now, it will hold itself in my own memory,
to challenge me on my daily journey.

I went for a drive today.
Something I haven't done in a really long time.
Something that used to be the greatest part of summer,
the most recharging part of a holiday,
the place where I let myself shamelessly cry while reconnecting - with myself, with God, with a world bigger than my own.

Today was different.
Good all the same, but different.

Today I shed my tears before I got into my car.
So many reasons and such a big picture,
but ultimately for the loss of a friend, mentor, and gracious leader within our community; and for the family he leaves behind.
Throughout his battle with cancer
and in his funeral today,
his testimony of faith in a God whose love is rich and deep,
who is faithful,
and who holds each of us in the context of a much bigger picture
was evident and clear.
It was mentioned today that he understood grace deeply,
and lived that understanding.

The CD that was playing in my car had a few songs that made me reflective, made me sing aloud, reminded me of the peace and strength that believing in that context of grace provides, and challenged me to look ahead.

One song in particular, I played over and over.
It's a personal favourite.
And today, it answered its own prayer.

God of Grace and God of Laughter

God of grace and God of laughter,
singing worlds from nought to be
sun and stars and all thereafter
joined in cosmic harmony:
give us songs of joy and wonder,
music making hearts rejoice;
let our praises swell like thunder,
echoing our Maker's voice.

When our lives are torn by sadness,
heal our wounds with tuneful balm;
when all seems discordant madness,
help us find a measured calm.
Steady us with music's anchor
when the storms of life increase;
in the midst of hurt and rancor,
make us instruments of peace.

Turn our sighing into singing,
music born of hope restored;
set our souls and voices ringing,
tune our hearts in true accord:
till we form a mighty chorus
joining angel choirs above,
with all those who went before us,
in eternal hymns of love.

At the Corner of Sixth and Graham

2009-02-08T22:24:00.004-06:00

I've been struck a few times recently-
not by lightning...although apparently the odds are good-
but by those nuggets that just "get" me.

For now, just one.
But look for "The Audible Gasp" coming soon to a blogspot near you.

The man on the corner downtown.
He just needed someone to notice him.
And although I noticed, and offered him some food,
it wasn't him so much that stood out in my mind.
He brought me back to Seattle.
That was last July.
I met a young guy there -
maybe 23ish.
Not much younger than I.
He reminded me of someone dear who not long ago was in his shoes.
He was trying to camouflage himself with the newspaper boxes in front of the McDonalds.
I noticed him when I walked inside,
but noticing him wasn't enough.
I felt sick to my stomach the whole time I stood in line.
Shouldn't someone do something?
How can all of these people walk inside and order food and not doing anything?
It bothers me still how quickly I threw the "someone" and "all of these people" out, but failed to make it "I".
Will the people in the restaurant be upset if I talk to him? Maybe that would encourage him to loiter outside their doors more often?
"Really Van? Are you seriously concerned about that?"
I carried my tray to my table and joined my mom and grandma.
But I just couldn't stomach what I had on my tray.
I raised my question to them, "Do you think he's hungry?"
"Yes," one of them told me. "He was asking for money."
I got up from my chair and asked if he'd like something to eat.
The look in his eyes, and his soft, somewhat shame-filled voice told me that he would.

I wish I knew his name.
I wish he knew that I think of him often and lift him in prayer.

I won't forget the way he tucked that McDonald's bag under his jacket and walked away almost silently.

I hope I have faith and courage enough to not walk by and call "someone" to the opportunities I am given a little more often.

I wonder

2008-12-15T22:22:00.000-06:00

The wonder of Christmas.
A star in the sky.
A shepherd out in a field.
A little baby born among the animals.

The wonder of Christ.
God becoming man.
Choosing to live like us.
With us even.

I wonder.
I wonder what it was like to be Mary.
To know such great imperfection
and yet to raise that which was perfection.

And I wonder what it is like
For Him to look down –
knowing what He did
and seeing us let it pass by
like a familiar story that lacks the inspirational punch.

And it is then that I am in wonder
at the wonder-ful gift of His grace.

He looks down
And He loves us anyway.

This Christmas...

2008-12-14T22:52:00.002-06:00

This Christmas might be like every other Christmas you have ever celebrated.
It might be the traditions that you love.
The family members that you try to love.
The food you know you don’t need or
shopping for someone who's hard to buy for.
Or maybe it's the gifts that you complained about shopping for,
But loved watching the receiver open.

This Christmas might be like no Christmas you’ve ever had before.
It might have you taking part in something like you’ve never done before.
Or giving a gift to someone you’ve never shopped for before.
Maybe it has you embracing the concept of a “blue Christmas” in a way you hadn’t needed to do in years previous.
Maybe it’s different because it seems hopeless.
Or different because the snow and the decorating didn’t get you into the Christmas spirit.

Maybe you could recite Luke 2
And you know the magi didn’t really come to the stable.
Maybe you feel like the shepherds out in the fields are just part of a story.
A story that you know so well.

May you find the wonder –
Through the eyes of an innkeeper exhausted from a long day of preparing for and then serving enough guests to fill his sleeping quarters, only to find an expectant couple looking earnestly for a room.
Through the eyes of a man scorned by his people, but willing to stand to save the face of the woman he loved.
Through the eyes of a young girl so unprepared for what lay ahead, so unsure of all that God was asking her to do, yet so completely devoted to obediently following His call.
Through the eyes of a shepherd, cast into the hills by the townspeople for a low-end night shift, being greeted by a sight that no one would believe – that you aren’t sure that you even believe yourself.
Through the eyes of a Son, who humbled Himself to be a son of man.
Through the eyes of a Father, who entrusted His son to a daughter of man.

May you wonder at the wonder that is Christ.

Remembering...

2008-11-11T00:56:00.002-06:00

Cold

2008-11-09T20:14:00.006-06:00

Ask anyone of 27 thousand Bomber fans about the game on Saturday and they'll probably go into a description of the quarterback, or maybe the lacking defense on the part of the secondaries. I will tell you the same things - and then I will add that I'm glad the Bombers started to play in the 4th quarter because that was about the time that I wondered what craziness had brought me to sit outside and freeze to watch my football team suck it up in the playoffs. At least I could start to cheer about something again and get the blood moving to warm up a bit.
It was cold.

The last time I remember being that cold was - strangely enough - at the Grey Cup game 2 years ago. It was that same "pain in my toes" cold. Again, brought on by my own choice. I wanted to be there.

And if I really think about it, prior to that, the joint pain I remember was in my hands - in an attempt to throw snowballs at friends. Again, my own choice.

The last while I've been feeling "cold" in regards to God.
It feels like it takes a lot to get the blood running and to really feel excited about our relationship.
Don't get me wrong.
The solid truths still seem to hold firm.
I know them - and for the most part,
can stick to them.
However, the desire to do so,
or to invest my time and energy,
or to want to invest my time and energy
is where the "cold" comes in.

Funny thing is,
that like the cold in my joints,
I own much of the responsibility for this feeling of lack-lustre faith.
Choosing to trust
choosing to invest
choosing to find joy
instead of plugging away of my own accord...
all of those pieces I have control over.

And my choices have left me cold.
God has been throwing mitts at me.
This last week my inner "thermostat"
has been very aware of the temperature of my faith.
And I got mitts.
And boots.
And an extra large hot chocolate.

It seems that God won't let my cold be the final say.
He's brought in some 4th quarter action to get the blood running again.

He got my attention.

Labour-less Weekend

2008-09-02T22:23:00.005-05:00

Another long weekend canoe trip.
Another weekend of beautiful weather.
Another chance to paddle the Canadian Shield
and sing Pocahontas' "Just Around the River Bend"
while watching bald eagles fly overhead
and dream dreams of canoeing with tarps in dry sacs over rapids.

Okay, so that last part probably doesn't make much sense to most of you, but it added to the goodness of our girls' canoe trip this weekend.

We had a great weather and were able to paddle a good 2 hours up Bird River before we stopped after a long portage and decided to pitch a tent for the night. We built a small fire and roasted some hot dogs before falling asleep beside some fresh "bear" prints.
(Even though I was pretty sure they belonged to a dog, I didn't allow that to interfere with my humanity and prayed that the bears would find someone else to indulge in for their midnight snack.)

This is the end of our 2nd portage where we slept the first night.

We paddled another 3.5/4ish hours along the slow moving river,
enjoying the incredible quiet.
I can't really explain it.
It's so quiet that it's not.
You can hear the birds and the crickets,
and the splash of ducks and loons along the water.
It's almost a more sacred kind of noise. Awesome.

We passed more beaver dams than we could count - and saw an otter and a muskrat along the way.

We arrived after a number of other boats had already paddled in, but landed one of the nicer spots we've seen along the water's edge.
Although it at first looked like a wide open rock with a fire pit,
we saw a path through the bushes that went up a hill only to find a picnic table, another fire pit, a nice flat area in the trees - even an outhouse.
On such a windy weekend, the sheltered site was a blessing and we enjoyed the privacy combined with our own beach-front rock for afternoon swimming, reading (The Shack - that could be a whole other blog!), and napping.

I canoed this way a couple years ago - and sadly went in and under while trying to paddle over these little rapids. We laughed at our inability to make it over such a small glitch in the way. This picture doesn't really show the rapids, but it does show me on the other side of them still in the canoe. We even portaged the canoe back up in order to try going more through the middle for a better ride through the second time around.

And now,
back to work.
Labour-full weeks ahead.

Better than Planned

2008-08-25T19:09:00.003-05:00

After much wondering and many stretches,
I was able to play all 6 of my Ultimate playoff games this week.
I was very excited to be back.
This is our 3rd place team in the "Have Fun" division. :)
I went to physio today - where I was told that I don't need to come back for 2 weeks. No more ice, a few more stretches, and hopefully next time around I'll be totally finished. When I think of where I was a month ago, I am totally thankful for what I can do. God is good.

Today was back at school as well.
I don't think I got much done.
It's amazing how much time a person can spend in a small room
and really do very little.
Oh heh.

And here is my new haircut.
It's actually short and curly,
but I'm not convinced on the length yet.
They tell me it's cute,
but I'm going with the straightened version.
I quite like it.
And it adds at least an inch - maybe two.

Not-So-Earth-Shattering

2008-08-19T23:33:00.001-05:00

Okay, I don't really have much to say.
I've been back at work
and might actually be organized when I begin this year.
I'm not writing myself off just yet.

However, in exciting news
I played Ultimate tonight
and my shoulder totally works.
It wasn't sore at all and I didn't hold back.
Except on the running part.
I haven't run for almost 6 weeks.
That's a long time to undo endurance training.

Time for ice.
Hopefully it's not stiff tomorrow!

Summer Not-So Goodness

2008-08-01T17:39:00.002-05:00

That delightful tube ride 2 weeks ago landed me in physio this morning.
No surgery needed, but my ultimate season is over for the summer.
I'm hoping that a lot of diligence on my part
and maybe even the good grace of God
will let my shoulder heal a little more quickly,
allowing me to play during championship weekend.
Heh.
That's all for now.

On second thought,
If it heals more slowly than anticipated
I may need help putting up all my bulletin boards for the fall.
There may be a little grace of God in there, too.

Summer Goodness Part II

2008-07-25T01:17:00.004-05:00

Summer goodness continues.

A few highlights.

Alaska.
Need I say more?
It was incredibly beautiful – mountains and ocean in the same place.
Bald eagles, humpback whales, orcas, sea lions.
Glaciers, glacier lakes, bright blue ice chunks.
Sunsets.

Standing on the deck in the evening when everyone else on the ship was more inclined to indoor activities. It was quiet, apart from the wind blowing my hair and the sound of the water trailing the boat. Watching the clouds and the sun going down. Near silence. And a bit of a chill in the air. It was amazing.

Ziplining through the rainforest (yes, Alaska has the 2nd largest rainforest in the world. Who knew?)

Whale watching. Wow. God and I were having a chat during most of this. I have loved whales since I was young. In fact, in my grade 9 yearbook write up, one of my future goals was to have a killer whale in my backyard. (I try to be more of a realist these days…). We saw an incredible number of humpbacks. Then we saw sea lions fighting for position on a coast guard buoy out in the water. So I’m having this chat with God, expressing thanks at seeing all these whales so close up, and letting him know that I’ve come to terms with not seeing any orcas, because in reality it’s not that likely – even if they were my favourite. And it was like God responded to me in one of those “desires of your heart” kinds of moments, because our boat received a radio call about a pod of orcas up ahead. And there they were, flying along through the water. Amazing. And very real. And I loved it.

And then there was kayaking in the glacier lake – Lake Chilakoot. Again, beautiful.

And then there was a good weekend at a friend’s cabin. This is me shortly before I went into the water Superman style following something schmucking my face and me reefing on my shoulder. It resulted in me having a very low-key rest of the weekend, and a rather slow and relaxed week. Two torn tendons will do that to a person. But I’m recovering. And it’s forcing me to slow down a bit.

I guess I could also include a couple of good days with friends. Today finished off with a night at the Bombers’ game. Beautiful weather. Good game – intense to the very end - with a victory for us, and a good night hanging out with a good friend.

Sigh.
Summer goodness continues.

Summer goodness

2008-07-03T13:05:00.003-05:00

Well, it seems like it took a long time to get here,
but it has arrived.

Summer.

It's funny to me that some of my summer highlights are half over -
like Ultimate.
Or like Nate, Shawna, and Thijs visiting.
Or like ...
Okay, that's all.

I had what seemed to be a very surreal summer experience last night.
I was driving home on a gravel road
and watching carefully for deer,
as I had seen one on the way down the road the first time.
I saw the deer in the ditch on the left - it was heading toward the highway.
I slowed down as I passed and checked my rearview mirror as I drove by.
The sun was setting and it was definitely duskish.
As I continued to scan the sides of the road,
something funny caught my eye.
The deer that I had previously passed
was running up along the left side of my car.
Like country dogs.

So I checked online - and apparently they can run between 30-35 mph.
Which is about as fast as I was driving.

I stepped gently on the brake and slowed a bit.
It continued to accelerate and ran past, and then in front of my car
into the opposite ditch.
Crazy.
And then off it went.
And off I went.
Toward the setting sun.

Summer goodness.

Ahh yet again

2008-06-27T00:39:00.003-05:00

This is me procrastinating.
I was doing so well.
I finished 18 report cards in 8 hours today -
and I even took a lunch break.

Now I'm at home.
It is the wee hours of the morning.
I have accomplished 2 in a very looong period of time.

But I'd like to have 4 or fewer to go in the morning.
I was not feeling negative pressure at 4 pm when I stopped.
I am starting to feel like this is not as great as I felt it was earlier today.

Heh.
By this time tomorrow I will have finished report cards.
I will have moved my classroom.
I will have finished all the other things on my year end checklist that need to be done.
I will also have watched the Bombers home opener.

Somehow that seems better than this.
....okay.
Back to it.

I'm Humbled

2008-06-11T00:08:00.002-05:00

I guess I forget sometimes
that honesty and integrity matter.
Maybe forget is the wrong word.
It just seems like it takes a lot of work.
And is everyone else really working at it?
I get upset at needing to communicate when it means confrontation.

I'm not sure why I get so self-pitying about it.
It's funny (as in ironic - not funny haha)
that Satan totally nudges us to not want to do the right thing.
More out of selfish pity than anything else.

And yet, my head and my heart are drawn to it.
That's a God thing.
Not a me-thing.
But it's good.
And even better when I actually listen to the nudges.
Even when it's difficult.
I know that the results are worth it.
Long term, anyway.
That I can attest to.
It just feels like work.
And it is.

But I am humbled as I am reminded that God has called me to each moment of confronting in love. And my obedience allows Him to work in a way that others can see Him. I forget that He uses me. And I forget that He really does know all of the details before I even know the beginning.
He is good.
And He is alive and at work.

May we be faithful servants
so that the Master can do His work.

When Sleep Comes Later...

2008-06-09T00:51:00.002-05:00

Someone asked me today if my night would be okay.
And I told them that I would be distracted.
Meaning that I would procrastinate with every other possible task
before coming to terms with the work that I really need to complete.
And truth be told,
I got a few things done that needed to be.
And I did a lot of procrastinating.
But I guess that's the way I process.
And I know that about myself.
If I hadn't promised my kids I'd give their tests back
I may have just turned in early
and tried to turn off my brain awhile.

My brain turned off for the most part.
I am almost done the tests.
But my brain has turned itself back on.
I think music does that to me sometimes.
It lets me shut down,
but it also breaks me down and leaves me wide open.

What does living in community really look like?
And Christian community more specifically.
Does it mean honesty at all costs?
Does it mean holding people accountable even it seems that it won't change them?
Does it mean expressing how you feel even if the end result is the same?
Does it mean "sucking it up" because "If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone?"
Does it mean that you stamp your feet every once in awhile,
even if it seems a little childish?

Is that really what it takes?
And why can't it just be simple sometimes?
Like why do integrity and respect need to be so difficult?

I finally loaded up my iTunes and played a song that for some reason unbeknownst to me has been in my head all weekend.
And I was reminded me that God speaks to me through music.
I guess there's a reason this blog got the name it did.
And the reason I've been singing the same words over and over.
(Only interrupted by a curious rendition of "Darling, Save the Last Dance for Me."

Point being -
"All of Him is more than enough for me."
(That was the song).
I think it still means I need to follow a few of the above.
Maybe a combination of some honesty,
some accountability,
some sucking it up,
and probably even some, "You need to know that hurt."

But I'm also reminded that Mr. Beaver was right.
"Safe? Who said anything about safe?
'Course He isn't safe. But He's good."

"The Lord gives strength to His people;
The Lord blesses His people with peace."

Snowmobiling Part deux

2008-02-26T19:52:00.001-06:00

The second part of the snowmobiling experience is a very fitting analogy as well.
Trust the guide...

Sometimes the guide gets off and points to the accelerator.
He explains where the brakes are and then sits in the back,
nodding that I should trust,
but I'm going to need to take some action if I want to get home.
It's another form of trust.

"Trust me when I say you can do it."
"Take it slow and you'll be fine."
"But take it - I'll be here on the back of the sled."

There's a little less guidance.
It's not that He's gone.
Or that He's throwing me into something I can't handle,
but that doesn't mean I feel in control.
Or that I feel like a seasoned driver.
I have to concentrate and think through each move.
I have Him holding on me, instead of holding on as tightly as I feel I need to.

He's not gone.
He's just asking me to stretch myself a bit.
And if it feels a little like there's an accident waiting to happen.
Chances are, He's trustworthy,
And He knows that I'll be fine
And maybe even better for it in the end.

Maybe?
Trust.

Probably.

Procrastination

2008-02-18T23:10:00.002-06:00

Another night where there is lots to be done -
And so, I guess it's time to blog.

For the record, my garage door is broken again and I think I may have to call in an actual repair guy. I may wait until summer. The current downside (besides opening and closing the door on my own) is that the light inside the garage doesn't go on automatically without the door opening and closing on its own. That was a lovely safety feature for me in the back alley when I pulled in and out late at night. I figure that in due time it will be light enough and warm enough and I won't care about opening and closing the door. Then I can tackle it again myself or call someone to help me when I'm actually home to greet them.

We had Louis Riel day here - so no school.
The folks around here aren't sure if that's a fitting name or not.
An important person in the history of Manitoba,
but he was hung for treason following the 1885 Red River Rebellion.
Worth celebrating?
Hmm.
Either way, I was just glad for a day off.

I went with some friends to their cottage.
I did some reading,
some dozing,
some more reading,
some snowmobiling -
oh, did I mention snowmobiling?
And there was a hot tub, too.
All very good.

A few randomly connected/disconnected thoughts.
I'm much happier as a passenger than as a driver on the snowmobile.
Generally I like to be in control -
but I'm not familiar with snowmobiles,
and am therefore not really in control when I'm in the driver's seat.
At the same time,
I have no trouble sitting behind someone whom I'm totally trust.
I let him drive
and enjoyed the speed
the scenery
the freedom.
All very good.

Last night we took the kids out to a warm up shack and built a fire in it
just for a mini-adventure.
We went when it was totally dark out.
We went a few at a time as we had more people than snowmobiles.
Someone had closed the vents on my helmet
so as soon as the visor was down, it and my glasses totally fogged up.
I couldn't see a thing.
But I didn't really care.
At first I thought it was strange.
It totally put me into my own world.
And at the same time,
it demanded only one thing of me.
Trust.
I had to hold on,
lean for turns when it seemed my driver did the same.
Sometimes I would catch a glimpse of something close to the top of the visor as it wasn't quite as foggy above my eyes.

Seems like the story of God and me somehow.
Sometimes I feel like I'm totally in the dark.
But I get glimpses here and there
of what He's doing in
and with my life.
Funny thing.
All He asks of me is to trust
and to obey.
To hold on for the ride
and obediently lean in the right direction when He or His Word show me what that is.
All He is asks of me is to trust Him
and know that He will get me to my destination.
Here's to letting Him drive
to enjoying the speed -
or the not so speedy parts -
the scenery
the freedom.

365/1

2008-02-02T23:19:00.000-06:00

A lot can happen in a year.
I guess a lot can not happen, too.

Someone said to me today that today last year doesn't seem like that long ago.
And I had to agree.
And disagree all at the same time.

Usually it seems like the bigger number is more.
Today, 1 year sounds like a long time.
365 days seems like nothing.

However, in 365 days, which seems like nothing,
I have been blessed with new friends - who in many ways seem like they have been a part of my life for years.
Truth be told, I can't really imagine not having them around.

In 1 year (11 months), I have driven a new Corolla
which some days seems like brand new,
and other days still makes me want my old one back.

In 1 year, I have healed, grieved, lost, and rebuilt a friendship.

In 365 days I have watched every episode of all 7 seasons of Gilmore Girls.
Okay, so that took way less than 365 days.

In 365 days my dad gave my yard a face lift and re-furnished my office to make the mess more manageable (Yes - it's still relatively a mess...but differently so!), and came to help me buy a new car.

In 1 year, I have learned that some things will be eternally frustrating.
In 1 year, I have learned that I will never understand how much and how deeply God loves me.
I will also never understand why He needs to break me so often in order to build me.

In 365 days, I have started to wear pink again.
In 365 days, I have grown because of grief shared with a friend - which should seem, it would seem, like a year -
but in His own plan of events, God changed it into some great days.

I guess there's a lot I could say.
And I lot that I'll never be able to explain enough to make it make sense.

But I'm glad I heard laughter tonight - and a willing spirit.
I'm glad I had my "family" to spend almost every evening with this week.
I'm glad that I have meetings to occupy the evenings of the week ahead.
And I'm looking forward to being able to tackle the next 365 days with a different kind of start.

Here's hoping.

LiftMaster and LifeMaster

2008-01-27T15:53:00.000-06:00

Allow me to begin by stating that I began the afternoon thinking that LiftMaster was hardly an appropriate name for the garage door opener in my garage. I couldn't figure out why the door kept coming back up when it hit the ground. Well, after trying to fix it on my own (with advice from a few friends), I took out the manual - and what do you know? When you follow the steps it gives, you can very easily fix the problem! After arriving late at school on Tuesday, and going through the motions of manually lifting/closing the door all week (not like that makes me hard done by - I actually appreciate the luxury more now!), I pulled out the ladder this afternoon and fixed my door. Ah. Feels good.

Round 2. The LifeMaster.
I was having a discussion with some friends this afternoon and felt myself struggling with the question of motive.

The topic in question was how we live our lives between the "trees" - i.e. - between Genesis and Revelation, which is really right now.

I guess I'm not sure of all the theology behind it.
I know that the Bible says to store up treasures in heaven.
I know that it also says that we will be judged.
I know, too, that it says we will be rewarded.
On a side note - I had another theological discussion with someone the other day that who believes that we really don't deserve punishment and that we deserve God's love because we are trying our hardest to live a life of love as per the example of Jesus.

But that's another story.
This question seems to be contradicted in two parables:
the one where a man entrusted money to 3 men - one did nothing with it, one invested it in small amounts and one invested it in big amounts - it challenges me to think about what I do with the gifts God has given me. And, I believe, it tells me that God blesses us when we use our gifts for the service of His kingdom.

The second is the parable where workers are hired at different times of the day to work until the same finishing time. Each is paid the same total amount, no matter how long they worked.

So my question is, are there better rewards to be earned in heaven?

My answer to that question is no.
Not sure on the theology.
But here's my thinking.
Rom. 6 says that the gift of God is eternal life.
How does it get better than that?
How does someone experience better wholeness in Christ than someone else in a perfect new Jerusalem where there is no sadness - pain is taken away.
Is there really ranking and levels of blessing?
In our discussion, there was disagreement on that one.

My take on the first parable has a lot to do with understanding that the kingdom of heaven is alive and real right here on earth. I believe that our reward for using our gifts and blessings to the service of others and the furthering of God's kingdom brings us great joy and peace here on earth. I think the joy of serving and seeing someone else delight in a gift I am able to share with them is great reward.
This, too, was different from some others in our group.
Some very strongly believe that God will give better and greater crowns based on our earthly commitment and service to Him.
Maybe there's a reason the disciples argued over who would get to sit at Jesus' right hand in heaven.

Maybe I'm wrong.
Maybe we will be so perfect and un-human that we won't become envious of our neighbour's crown, but will delight completely in each other's successes.
But I want to think that eternity with Christ is enough.

Maybe the point of our argument was wrong.
I felt like there was motivation to do good because it would earn greater rewards in heaven.
I'll be honest.
I'm not comfortable with that idea at all.
When I serve or love or forgive,
I want to believe that I do it because Christ did all of those things for me first.
I want to believe that my heart wants so much to recognize God's grace in my life,
that I love and serve and forgive because I want my life to reflect the gratitude in my heart for the gift of Christ.

Maybe there are rewards.
Maybe that's where the judgment comes in.
But I'd rather not do them for fear of judgment or anticipation of reward.

May the LifeMaster be my LifeMaster because He is.
Not because I'm afraid of how He'll punish me
or because I am seeking a reward that I feel I deserve.
And may I gratefully seek to serve Him
because He loves me unconditionally
and I owe Him my life.

Even if my theology is a little off.

"...I will show Him my faith by what I do." - James

Follow the Star...

2008-01-06T23:53:00.000-06:00

I have been particularly struck by the story of the wisemen this Christmas season.
Thoughts about how these men picked up and left everything they had and knew
to follow a light that was brighter than the others.
Can you imagine what kind of flack they would get today?
Hop on a camel -
granted that was the current day mode of transportation -
but, really, it wasn't a two year dune buggy ride across the desert.

One of the parts that got me this year
was someone describing the arrival of the magi in Bethlehem.
Be reminded that Jesus was about 2 years old at this point.
It wasn't the same craziness of the census -
people everywhere, animals and travelers taking over the town.
It was 2 years later.
The original excitement of the shepherds and the angels had died down.
The meetings with and prophecies from Simeon and Anna long since past.

Imagine a quiet day in Bethlehem.
Mary had been working in her home all morning while Jesus toddled about
landing hard once or twice as he tried to run along the uneven dirt floor of their small home.
Joseph had been home for a lunch of stew and freshly baked bread,
but had returned to his carpentry shed out back.
With lunch finished, Mary had put Jesus down for an afternoon nap before they would visit the neighbour down the road to share some vegetables from her small garden.

And then it happened.

There was a noise coming from out the window.
Men speaking a language she was unfamiliar with.
And before she knew it there was a knock at the door.
And so she opened it.
Can you imagine the sight?

Men dressed in robes and jewels,
riding camels,
carry gifts.

Can you imagine the talk amongst the neighbours at the arrival of these out-of-towners?

The men started to explain their story.
A star.
A king.

And Mary un-packed the treasures she had buried in her heart and knew this was just another unbelievable moment in her story as the mother of the Messiah.

She invited them in.
And ran to get Joseph from out back.
She hurried back to the house and lifted Jesus out of his finely crafted cradle.
He fussed a bit as his sleep was disturbed.
She tried to quiet Him,
explaining that He had special visitors.

All the while the neighbours peaked through the windows in their tiny homes.
Who where these foreigners?
And why were they visiting this family that had only moved into town a short while ago.

Can you imagine?

Our service this morning centred on the visit of the Magi.
Our children's message talked about the invitation to the Magi as they saw something spectacular and decided to follow it, trusting that it would lead them to a king.

And what a King they found!

I had to ask myself if my faith is such that I would follow that invitation to put so many things aside to truly seek after the King. It often seems that my time and energy for directly and intently seeking after the King get put somewhere else.

The prayer that followed struck a chord with me -
"Lord, forgive our poor sense of direction..."
(for those who don't know, getting lost and asking for directions could easily top my list of gifts and talents...)
We know the way.
We know where the star leads.
And yet it seems at times that we are incredibly mis-guided.
Maybe a new year is a time to roll out the map again.
To take out the compass and do a direction check.
And when I see the needle pointing west when I know I've been called north,
what difference will it make?
What difference should it make?

"Lord, forgive my poor sense of direction."

Top 5...

2007-12-10T22:47:00.000-06:00

Well, it's about time.
And this may be somewhat random.
But the truth is that there have been lots of things to write about in the last 2.5 months, somehow it just didn't happen.
So here's hoping.

5. 19 years is a long time. More than 2/3 of my life. I was at hockey practice on Saturday morning and the kids were supposed to be skating a hard lap. One of the boys slowed down and came over to me and I tried to hustle him on, telling him that he was supposed to be giving it 110%. And he looked at me and said, "But I just wanted to wish you a happy anniversary!" I apologized profusely and allowed myself to recognize the blessing of my kids in my life. God uses them often and when my eyes are open and my heart is loving Him and loving them, I am overwhelmed by His goodness to me through them.

4. Report cards suck the life out of a person. Don't get me wrong. I love writing them. It's time that I wish I took more often to sit back, to reflect, and to see how much growing and learning and loving and working is taking place in the lives of my kids and in my own life. But it's exhausting. I finally feel like I'm getting my life back and now I'm supposed to go to Christmas concerts/parties/and do the shopping and decorating. But my head and my heart are back, I think. And for the record, they were finished in a more organized fashion and earlier than ever before in my 5.3333333333333 years of teaching.

3. My friends are God's gift to me each and every day. In the last couple of months, I dare say that I've had some pivotal moments with more than one of my friends. Conversations that challenge me, conversations that encourage me. Conversations that call me to be better and more, conversations that remind me that even when I could be better and more - I'm still doing some things right and good. Conversations that demonstrated deep vulnerability and tears. Conversations that let me in deeper - and where I let others in more deeply, too. There have also been moments of grace. Sharper skates, picture frames, emails, prayers, bedtime stories, homemade chicken noodle soup, and words like "warm", "trust", "thanks", and "I'm sorry."

2. We are part of a story. Our message Sunday morning was a reminder of the story God is writing and has been writing since the beginning of time. Each of us is part of the story - we are not only characters in it, but co-authors. If we want to really make our part of the story the best that it can be, we need to allow God to be at work in us - trusting that He will keep writing and editing, and serving Him as best as we can with the different gifts He has given us. Trying to be a different character in the story won't make the story better.

1. Belgic confession article 21 (I think - we read it last night at church and it was in that confession somewhere!) says something to the effect of "He died for sins he didn't commit...". I've been going through the prophesies of Isaiah with my kids at school. I love the prophesies. They scream out of a God who keeps His promises - over and over and over. Tomorrow we start week 3 of Advent (a little early I know, but we run out of days at school...) and we will be celebrating the candle of joy. God made Himself human for us. We're quick to throw blame elsewhere - when we've done something wrong we often have to force ourselves to own up to it. How hard can it be to say sorry? He didn't just own up to what He'd done - because He hadn't done a thing. "He died for sins He didn't commit." Gets me every time.

This One's For You

2007-11-18T17:47:00.000-06:00

Hi Grandma!

I haven't forgotten...

A New Kind of Church

2007-09-24T17:48:00.000-05:00

So yesterday I slept in.

Not really a big surprise.
It's kind of a thing I'm known to do.
Not a thing I'm particularly proud of,
But my life.

My roommate was gone for a couple of days and so I slept on the couch.
I love sleeping on the couch.
Trouble is
that once the alarm on my phone goes off 3 times,
there's no back up alarm clock.

And heh.
Suddenly it was 9:50 and church starts at 10.
It was my Sunday to do a sermon evaluation
as well as my turn to play youth leader because our other leaders were off with the high school group.
So, dressed I got
and drove off to walk in late.
The trick is
that there were no open seats near an end.
And the minister had already started the sermon.

And then I looked around.
There were 7 or 8 others standing or sitting in the back foyer.
Almost a whole congregation unto ourselves.
I stood beside a woman and we started to chat.
Not necessarily protocol for listening to a sermon,
but we chatted nonetheless.
And it was good.
We kind of were "the church" for a bit.
We talked about ministry opportunities,
responded to points being made,
asked each other questions about parts we were unsure of,
discussed the tough parts of the Scripture passages,
and applied them to our own lives.

And then there was Communion.
We discussed for a moment
the options we had with regards to actually participating,
finally concluding that we couldn't really do so without disrupting what was going on beyond the glass doors ahead of us.
Until the serving elder came to the back door,
caught my eye
and I smiled.
He came out and served us,
and the 6 others,
the bread and grape juice.
And in our small gathering,
we celebrated Christ together.
Totally differently.
But really great.
There was even something great about going around to each of the standers and sitters and collecting their grape juice cups.
Funny how God works sometimes...

Not that I'm recommending showing up late for church on a regular basis,
or sleeping through alarms to miss some of the more important details of life,
or trying to skip out on Communion,
but I really went to church yesterday.
Really.

Innocent faith and awe

2007-08-19T21:24:00.000-05:00

Our camp pastor this week was explaining to the kids how much God loves us.
It's a tough concept to get across.
Hard for us to understand.
More than we can possibly imagine.
And in a quiet pause following his explanation,
a 7 year old voice from the front row of boys called out
completely honestly, and innocently.
"Even more than my mom and dad?"

"Yes," was the reply.
"Even more than your mom and dad."

Indeed.
Incomprehensible.
Unconditional.

"Let the little children come to me, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven."

I might add,
that I was so wonderfully encouraged as well
by the fact that this kid knows beyond a doubt
how much his parents love him.
I teach kids every day who aren't always sure.
Maybe that's part of being 10 and not 7.
Of realizing that your parents aren't perfect.
But for now,
I just want to revel in his complete surety
of his parents' love.

I pray that he can be that sure of his Father's love, too.

How S"weed" it Is

2007-08-06T14:08:00.000-05:00

The man who led our prayer in church yesterday started off by telling us how he had been working in his son-in-laws fields and gardens earlier in the week.
He talked about growing the food we eat,
about growing it without pesticides,
and about how great it is to be outside,
taking part in the process.
He also talked about weeding
and how sometimes we need to pull out the bad stuff
in order for the good stuff to grow.
What caught me however, was that the weed he mentioned pulling
was the portulaca.

When I was a kid, we lived next door to a garden centre.
Every summer we got to go over there to buy a couple of flowers
and then we were given a piece of the family garden to call our own.
My first choice every year was the portulaca.
It is bright and colourful
and it looks a little bit different.
You might expect its stems and "leaves" to be sharp
but that's just their shape.
They are in fact, very soft.

What got me was that what to me was beautiful
to a vegetable farmer was a weed.

Sometimes our strengths -
the things that are our beauty -
are the same things that become or stumbling blocks.
They are like weeds that need to be pulled
or at least replanted in a better location.
A place where they can be used humbly
instead of with boastful pride;
where they can be used to serve
not to judge or pull rank.

It's the same with our weaknesses.
Within the right context,
with guidance and support
and patient prayer
they don't appear to be weaknesses at all.

I feel like this is cheesy - and not very fluid.
But you get the point?
I guess I've been off for too long! :)

Ridiculous, I know.

2007-07-25T18:28:00.000-05:00

Hello to those of you who are still around and checking this business of the blog.
I feel that since it's vacation, I'm just taking a vacation from everything that I formerly knew as "my life."
Nothing is normal around here.
My life consists of school, church stuff, and well, okay, that's about it!

With school on holidays,
And church activities on holidays,
And weddings to attend,
And sleeping in to be done
And painting
And cleaning
And much reading - of the Harry Potter variety and otherwise
I feel as though my world is not really mine
And yet totally mine all at the same time.

This concept of doing my thing
on my time
or not doing it
is kind of foreign to me
and the truth is that I kind of stink at it.
Not at it, per-se (sp?)
But at being a good friend
and remembering that the world does not revolve around me
although it's kind of fun when it does
for just a little while.

What's new and exciting?
I have a new hood on my car.
I saw Nate, Shawna, and Kaase last weekend.
I spent the week before that with Skips
and Bennett
and Brian and Shara and Larissa and Dave.
It's good.
And I got to play some ultimate.
And I started painting the trim on my house
and I bought stuff to do yard work - although it's too crazy hot to actually do the yard work
And, very exciting, I am going to go on an insulin pump.
That's craziness.
But very good, I think.
It's all happening a lot quicker than I had planned for.
But what do I know.
My plans never seem to be the same as the way things actually turn out.
And most of the time I'm okay with that.
Or learning to be okay with that anyway.

So, for those of you who are as "very excited" as I am, you can check out minimed.ca and see the cool one that also tests your blood sugar every 5 minutes. Yup. You heard it here. I am actually excited about testing blood sugar. Stranger things may not have happened. :)

This is the new pump and blood testing sensor thing - only that's the old/big glucose sensor and transmitter. The new set, which is the size of a stack of 4 quarters is pictured below:

That's all for now.
I'll be back sooner.
Promise.

Worth a few tears...

2007-06-17T21:51:00.000-05:00

I had the great honour of being invited to one of my kids' baptism today. I wasn't really sure what to expect as we all gathered in someone's backyard around the deck and swimming pool with coffee in hand and 7 people with trunks and towels at their sides.

The people getting baptised were asked to share a little bit.
There's something wonderful about hearing a 10 year old get up in front of a microphone and in front of his church members and the friends he had invited say, "This is how Jesus has made a difference in my life..."
And to do it confidently -
not ashamed at all of what he believes and Who he's living for.

I think I read something once about having the faith of a child.
Okay, so I've read it more than once.
I was blessed.
To tears.

God is faithful
and He is good.
And He continues to make Himself known.

I wish I had a picture...

2007-06-04T21:49:00.000-05:00

but I don't.

On Saturday night
I watched the moon rise.
I've watched the moon come out before,
but never like this.

We were out in a canoe on the lake.
The sky was mostly clear
we could see the stars
the water was still
and there were two bands of cloud.

We could literally see the moon rising -
the brightness peaking - and then pouring out
above the band of clouds in a matter of minutes.
Intensely orange against the dark sky.
Only to be covered again by the second band of clouds,
but always a hue of brightness poking out the bottom
and then pushing over the top.
Amazing.
I could have laid back in that canoe for hours
just watching the moon
and the stars
and hearing the "silence"
that exists in calling loons and water lightly lapping at the side of the boat.

I couldn't get Psalm 8 out of my head.
I tell my students to really learn their Bible Memory verses
because those verses will come back to them when they least expect it.

And thus, Psalm 8.

"When I consider the heavens
the work of Your fingers
the moon and stars that You have set in place.
What is man that You are mindful of him?
The son of man that You care for him?"

He put the moon and stars in place.
Right there.
Thousands of miles away.
Creating light
forming constellations.
And then He put me there.
And my friends in our canoe.
To be still and know
to be peacefully in awe
of our awesome Creator
and the incredible beauty He designed in the moon rising over the water and above the clouds.

"O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is Your name in all the earth!"

Embarrassed to quote my source...

2007-05-21T23:02:00.000-05:00

I've had a few rambling thoughts today.
Some that got rambled out in my head.
Some that aren't finished rambling yet.
And some that have been rambling for awhile -
finally needing to be expressed.

Most of this rambling started a week ago when I read some sermons from this great guy I know who has been a preacher for about as many years as I have been alive (go Dad!).

He was talking about Jesus journey to the cross
from childhood until he is crucified,
and how Jesus never demonstrates the emotion of fear.
Sorrow, yes.
Anguish, yes.
But fear? No.

There is something about Him that is completely unfathomable to us.
We cannot,
no matter how intensely we try,
imagine a world or a life without fear.
By that and through that,
we can never totally love the way that God intended us to.

I heard someone say last week
(this is the source I am to embarrassed to acknowledge - I'm sure they don't mind!)
That "when you're dealing with choices - you have 2 perspectives:
How would love decide,
and how would fear decide."
The person who said it followed this with,
"You have to let love decide."

The combination of those two thoughts puts me all over the place.
With God.
With friends and family.
With people who I've had deeper relationships with.

Fear that it won't turn out the way I want it to.
Fear that God's will isn't the same as what my eyes see or my heart feels.
Fear that I will be hurt.
Fear that I will really have to love seventy times seven times.
Fear that I will be taken advantage of if I love as Christ loves.
Fear that I understand the example Christ has set before me incorrectly and thus my love is not really a reflection of His.

What it comes back to is that I need never fear His love.
He IS love.
It won't fail.
He always protects.
His mercies are new every morning.
He is faithful.

He loves me.
And wants me to delight in Him,
in His love,
and in loving Him in return
more than anything else.

"Do not be afraid, do not be discouraged,
for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."

Beg, Borrow, and Steal

2007-05-07T22:18:00.000-05:00

So maybe I won't call it cheating.
Because if I do,
I may have to claim it as one of my gifts.
When I was at Dordt
our Education profs always told us
to "Beg, borrow, and steal."
Basically they wanted to tell us
that we don't have to reinvent the wheel.
If there's good stuff out there
then use it.
By all means.

So, with that in mind,
I have a new favourite song.
I know that my last one is only a week old.
Yup, that's me.
Flavour of the week.
Ha.
Anyway, it's repetitive,
but not annoyingly so.
It's just an earnest prayer.

May it be mine...
and yours.

Erase - by Geoff Moore

Erase all that's different between us
Until nothing ever separates us
and we love like You love
And we ache when You ache
And our heart is undone
By what makes Your heart break
And we hear what You hear
And we see what You see
And the difference is erased
Erase all the distance between us.

Replace all the space with Your presence
Until we love like You love
And we ache when You ache
and our hearts are undone
By what makes Your heart break
And we hear what You hear
and we see what You see
And the distance is erased.

So build me up
Or tear me down
Until Your heart is all that's found
I want to love like You love
I want to ache when You ache
I want my heart to be undone
By what makes Your heart break
I want to hear what You hear
I want to see what You see
Until the distance is erased
Between us.

Cheating a bit...

2007-05-01T21:20:00.000-05:00

So, maybe it's cheating.
But I like to share things that are meaningful.
And if what's meaningful to me as of late
just so happens to be the words
of someone else's song
well, then, too bad.
I'm cheating.

I've had song 7 repeating in my car from Mercy Me - Spoken For
over and over for the last couple of days.
The song is "Word of God Speak".
And that's really all I've got.
He's good and faithful.
Indeed.

Here it is:

I'm finding myself at a loss for words
and the funny thing is it's OK
The last thing I need is to be heard,
but to hear what You would say.

Word of God speak
Would You pour down like rain
Washing my eyes to see
Your majesty
To be still and know
That You're in this place
Please let me stay and rest
In Your holiness
Word of God speak.

I'm finding myself in the midst of You
Beyond the music, beyond the noise
All that I need is to be with You
And in the quiet hear Your voice.

Where Are We, Lord?

2007-04-21T23:46:00.000-05:00

"Where are You, Lord?"
A question I think many of us have asked at one point in time.
Probably more often than once.
Perhaps a question that came up in the last number of days.

The events at Virginia Tech this past week have hit me in a lot of different ways; a few that I'll keep to myself, but a few that I think are worth sharing.

I was reading in Luke today - the story where Jesus drives out Legion into the herd of pigs and they run off the cliff and die.

We hear in the news that the shooter had a history of mental illness and police had been called because of unsettling encounters others had with him in the past. And I can't help but think about how quick we are to want to throw blame at someone and ask why people didn't respond differently to the "warning signs." His professor described him as "extraordinarily lonely - the loneliest person I have ever met in my life."

My question instead, is, "Where are we, Lord?"

When I read the story of the man who had Legion living in him, we are told that the man had gone crazy, we also read that he was tied up in chains.
I wonder where we were.
Did he have family who visited him in the hillside tombs where he lived?
Did he have friends that checked in on him every few days to see how he was doing?
Were their people in his life that continued to love him even though Legion often took total control of him?

What happened in Virginia this week was horrific.
Don't get me wrong.
I can't imagine,
and don't even want to,
what it was like to be held at gunpoint
or to block a doorway to save the lives of my students
or to try to escape, only to find the doors chained shut.
I can't imagine what it would take to walk back into those buildings
to go back to class and not be afraid that it will happen again.
I can't imagine losing a friend or sibling in circumstances like this.

But I think we're missing a piece.

I'm not saying that reporting this man to police on prior occasions was wrong.
I'm not saying that professor who saw the signs and tried to raise flags and spent one on one time tutoring him didn't do her best...because I really think she did.

But it spurred me to ask what Jesus would have done.
And then to ask what difference it makes that I am called to be like Him.

Jesus greets the demon possessed man.
In fact, He greets the demon.

The townspeople had locked him up.
"We" called the police.
"We" let him be the "loner".
Did "we" also love him?
Did "we" let him know that he was a valued person, created in the image of God?

Did the man who suffered from mental illness,
the man whose family "never could have envisioned that he was capable of so much violence,"
the man who was described as quiet, withdrawn, "the question mark kid",
a man who was obviously hurting,
did he have friends who checked in on him?
Did he have people in his life who knew how much he hurt?
What made him feel so incredibly lost and alone?
What a miserable and sad life he endured if it brought him to a point of feeling like killing those around him and finally killing himself was the only way.

I'm not trying to blame anyone.
Or take the responsibility of what happened away from the man who has left many hurting people behind.

What I really hope and pray
is that instead of turning around
and telling his family that their apology means nothing
instead of second guessing his peers,
the police,
the higher ups at the university,
let's recognize that we live in a broken world.
Let's recognize the hurt that he felt.
Let's recognize that there are people who tried to reach out to him.
Let's recognize that Jesus greeted the demon.

And let us pray for his family.
Yes, for the families of the victims.
But for his family, too.
The hurt inside their brother and son
was very probably something that they were helpless to understand.

May they come to know and understand God's grace.
May we be the hands and feet of Jesus.
May they experience God's grace as we extend it to them.
May we live the difference that it makes that we are called to be like Christ.
Who also gave his life for the criminal on the cross beside Him.

Thomas The Twin

2007-04-15T23:03:00.000-05:00

Have you ever thought that we're pretty hard on Thomas?
He has gone down in history as the doubter.
That's how he is remembered.
No one speaks about him as the guy who wanted to be sure of the truth.
Nobody tells stories about how he was speared to death in the interest of spreading the Gospel.

Think about it a minute.
One of his best friends had gone from being welcomed into Jerusalem with Hosannas
to being arrested and crucified
in a matter of a week.
You want to talk about an emotional roller coaster?
Up, down -
confusion, sadness, helplessness, guilt for leaving Him with the guards -
He knew how Jesus had died.
I'm not sure if he watched the crucifixion or not,
but it doesn't really matter.
It was the talk of the town, I'm sure.

Either way, if I put myself into his sandals for just a short moment
and imagine where I would have been at
I can't come up with much more than
"emotional wreck".

I'm a skeptic with simple things
like if Grenadine syrup is really made from pomegranates.
And that won't really affect my life.
It won't change my emotions
or put into question what I have devoted my life to for the last 3 years.
I didn't leave my job
to walk the country side
learning the truth
and then sharing the Good News of what I had learned.

But Thomas had been in the inner circle.
Not only did Jesus know him,
but he knew Jesus.
He loved Jesus.
And, just like you or I would have,
he doubted the reality that Jesus could really be alive.
In fact, if anything,
I think we should commend him for his honesty.
He said what I'm sure some of the other disciples were thinking.

And that gets me to "Thomas the Twin".
I learned today that the name Thomas means twin.
And I think there is some incredible irony there.
Perhaps it is God quietly putting His sense of humour
into what He knows is generations of people who just don't get it.

We single Thomas out as someone different.
He is remembered all on his own
as the guy who didn't believe.

In truth, he is probably the disciple that many of us are like.
Our "twin", if you will.
If I am honest with myself,
there are a lot of things I doubt.
I know that God can heal cancer.
I know that God can bring reprieve to those who suffer from depression.
I know that God loves me even though I mess up over and over and over.
I know that life is better when God is control instead of me.
I know that God holds each one of us in His hands
even if it seems that He lets us go from time to time.
I know a lot of things.
But do I really live in a way that demonstrates that I believe them?
Or maybe the better question is,
"Do I really believe them?"
Because if I do,
there are parts of my life that should be different;
Parts of my life that should demonstrate this faith just on their own.
I shouldn't have to remind myself what I believe
if I really believe it.

Sometimes we say that we are the biggest critics of the characteristics of others that we hate in ourselves.
Thomas, I would like to say,
is my equal.
Instead of singling him out,
perhaps I should join him
and acknowledge my lack of faith.
He brings out that part of me that doubts;
the part of me that knows the answer
but doesn't act on it
because feeling it in my heart
and allowing it to transform me
takes more than just knowing.

It takes believing.
And it means surrendering myself to the Spirit of God.
I'm not really good at surrender.

Perhaps a good place to start
is with Thomas' words of greeting for Jesus
"My Lord and my God"...
humble me, that I may truly believe
and so live the joy of the resurrection.

The Resurrection...

2007-04-11T22:50:00.000-05:00

We read the resurrection story from Matthew on Sunday,
and I was struck by how the angel comes to roll away the stone
and then, it says, he sits on it.
The ground is quaking,
the guards shake and fall to the ground like dead men,
the women are afraid,
and the angel sits.
He is not surprised or afraid.
He knows what God has done and will continue to do.
There doesn't appear to be any part of him
that feels rattled by the situation,
rather there is a peace and relaxed strength about him.
He sits as if to say,
"My God keeps His promises.
I'm here as a messenger,
but I am at peace and confident that God is the victor
and I have nothing to fear."
He sits.
He knows and trusts in God's faithfulness
and in the promise of the resurrection.
He sits.

Ahh, the Mountains...

2007-04-04T00:07:00.000-05:00

I had the incredible privilege this past weekend
of being reminded of just how small and insignificant I am.
I need that.
Especially when it is coupled with the thought
that even though I am small and insignificant
I am loved
and given more grace than I could ever deserve.

It doesn't take much for me to be humbled when I'm in the mountains.
Almost nothing actually.

The first day we had incredibly clear views of the surrounding peaks.
Beautiful.
"Stand in awe of God" seemed a simple task.
The second day it was cloudy.
Peaks covered with clouds.
Sun-rays peaking through.
And yesterday's "simple task"
seemed even simpler.

At one point, I found myself in the middle of a black diamond mogul hill.
(What I was doing there is a whole other story.)
I stopped and just started to laugh.
Looking around was incredible.
It was steep.
We were surround by evergreens
and mountains
and more mountains.
And all I could do
was be in awe.

For part of the afternoon
a friend and I took off our skis halfway down the mountain.
We carried them across the trail
and sat on the side slope that faced the surrounding mountains.
And just took it all in.

When I got up and continued skiing down the hill
I proceeded to sing.
Yeah, out loud.
And quite loud.
Going down the mountain with my arms out wide
(poles, too - don't worry, I did shoulder check to make sure I wasn't going to take anyone's eyes out...)
the way I used to walk on the sidewalk to Southview
and run around the soccer field
taking it all in
and offering it all up.

I got some strange looks,
but it didn't matter.

In the van on the way home,
we were listening to a CD that seemed to keep pumping out songs that hit my heart.
And there I was.
Small and insignificant indeed.
But listening to God instead of indirectly yet incessantly
telling Him that it's all about me.

"How refreshing to know You don't need me
How amazing to find that you want me." (Casting Crowns)

Ahh, the mountains.
And the One who carved them out...

...and blessed.

2007-03-27T19:56:00.000-05:00

So I shared in my last post that I am spoiled.
I would like to acknowledge this time how I am blessed.

A mom of some of the youth in our church decided that she likes me.
How nice!
For real, though, she wanted to do something for me.
It started out by offering me licorice.
I turned down the licorice not knowing when she asked
that she had bought some to share with me
to say thanks for working with her kids.

Two weeks later at youth group,
she asked if I wanted a piano.
Whaahhaa?
From licorice to a piano?
Yes, indeed.
As part of receiving a newer piano and being asked to "pay it forward"
she blessed me with her piano.

I have already spent many late nights playing all the old pieces I learned in elementary school.
And I'm thrilled to get it tuned
to play
and to learn more.
It's wonderfully relaxing.
And I sing on the inside while I play.

Here it is in my living room.

Oh, sadness...

2007-03-18T21:26:00.000-05:00

Well, I promised someone that I would keep the world updated on my now incognito mode of transportation. Sadly, and I do mean sadly, my good friend "Blue Lightning" (as she was named by one of my students - May I note that at the time I did NOT know that the cheerleaders for the Blue Bombers are also called Blue Lightning) was towed away last week. She served me well. And I took a picture of her from my front porch before I left for school on Tuesday.

However, my new car - yet to be named - is serving me very well. I was delighted to have my wonderful father come to visit and assist in the purchasing process. I am spoiled. I turned the odometer over 200 clicks today. It's pure craziness. And I used the trunk for groceries for the first time, too. It's small stuff, I know.
But fun. Here is my new friend and companion. Perhaps it will have to be a he this time around. It may be my lifelong companion. (I have no spoiler on mine...didn't want to spoil 'er...okay, maybe it's still a she...)

Explaining...

2007-03-05T20:44:00.000-06:00

I'm not always very good at explaining what goes on in my head.
Writing helps a lot.
That seems to be where my honesty meets my thoughts and emotions.

Funny thing about not being a good explainer -
I'm a teacher.
I hope I'm better at explaining the world than I am at explaining myself.

I've been reading bits and pieces of other people's lives
through emails and blogs and books
and coming to discover that sometimes they say it better than I can.

There's a big part of me that's exhausted.
A big part of me that's okay.
A big part of me that knows that God hasn't
and won't
leave me on my own.
And somehow doors keep opening
and people keep stepping up to the plate
(I think some of them have hit a whole inning on their own for me).

Lots of them I didn't even call in.
But the Head Coach,
He let them know I needed a pinch-hitter.
And there they were.

I don't have a lot of words to describe that in a better way
except to say:
I'm getting a new car.
My students are still alive - and doing well, I think. :)
My marking is finished.
I have been given more time to work on my report cards.
I have a taxi service :) and place to be while my current car is out of commission.
I get to see my dad this week.
I got to chat with my grandma this morning.
I have a student who wants to fail grade 5 so she can be in my class again.
I don't have to make a lunch tomorrow.
I didn't have to make supper on Friday.
I slept in yesterday.
And today.
I'm wearing my favourite sweater...for the lots-of-days in a row.
Only I washed it in between, so now it's even clean!
I had a great email from a good friend.

And as someone else's words put it:
"God is doing exactly what I need Him to do right now -
holding me and not letting me go."

And God cries...

2007-02-25T22:27:00.000-06:00

This afternoon after doing some reading
and taking some me and God time,
I went outside with some friends
and skated and played "hockey"
(as much as can be played with 4 people...)
but it was perfect weather.
And there was almost no one else on the rink.

And it got me away from me for awhile
which I needed it to do.

After having a head-on-butt encounter
(short girl bending knees while trying to get the puck
from tall guy standing straight, resulting in collision)
that left my neck a bit out of sorts,
I realized that time on the ice was winding down
and it was time to get back into my other world.
The real one.

It seems to me that lately brokenness in the world
has become bold and italicized.
It may be just in my own mind
and especially in my own heart
but I can't seem to shake it.
And maybe that's a good thing.
A humbling awareness of where I need to bring the light of the resurrection.
A humbling awareness of what it is that we are human and we fail.
And how great it is, then, that God loves us.

But it's a painful thing.
And I can't help but be aware that if it bothers me as much as it does
that it leaves me unable to sing How Great Thou Art -
not because He isn't great...
but that He is - He's that great...
That He sees much more hurt than I can even imagine.
And He doesn't just see it, but He experiences it.
Because He hurts when we hurt.
And He knows the way He wanted it to be.

On my drive to church tonight I couldn't help but pray,
"Maranatha, Christ come quickly."

"Behold, I am making all things new..."
Why do the renovations take more work, energy, and time than the original building project?

Oh heh.

2007-02-20T23:28:00.000-06:00

So I haven't shovelled in a good while. Actually not since my uncle visited in the first and second weeks of January. It has snowed a fair amount since then. In little dustings, mind you, but enough to make the steps slippery and uneven.

Last night it snowed a bunch more and as I went down the back steps I couldn't see if I was on a step or on the sidewalk. This new snow also covered the unevenness of the old snow.

And heh.

I totally twisted my ankle and slipped. I was covered in snow before I even got to the garage. Great start to the day, eh? But I protected my kids' work and my laptop. Yes, hold your breath. I am such a hero.

Then I played floor hockey at lunch, because at that time, my ankle seemed pretty much recovered.

It is now rather sore. I cannot cross my ankle under my other leg on the couch.
Maybe I'm just a princess.
But it hurts.

And what can I say? It's my own fault. I vow to shovel before Monday. I have a meeting at my house and I cannot have my guests twisting any ankles.

Eloi, Eloi...

2007-02-19T23:06:00.000-06:00

My head has been a few places in the last while.
My heart, too.

I was at a concert tonight and must confess to not really listening at all.
It was loud enough that I could tune out the world around me and just focus inside my own head,
which, to be truthful,
has been a difficult task as of late.

I was challenged yesterday to discover and get to know the heart of God.
And the fourth song the band played tonight (the first one I knew) had a repetitive chorus of "I want to fall in love with You."
A song of intense desire to truly know and love our Creator.

And suddenly I was in my own world.
Asking questions of myself.
Falling in love involves coming to really know and understand the heart of someone else.
And in this case,
coming to know and understand,
as far as is humanly possible,
the heart of God.

How does He hurt when we, His delicate creations, hurt ourselves?
How does He hurt when we simply can't hold onto the truth that He loves us enough to have watched and allowed His son die in our place?
How does He hurt when for lack of words and understanding we settle into robot mode, acknowledging that He is taking care of both our most significant and insignificant needs, but forgetting to thank Him for His grace and for His faithfulness in doing so?

If I look into the heart of God,
I see a Father who loves us so much He lets us go...
only to have us hurt Him in return.

And then I see His faithfulness.
In spite of every other detail.
In spite of my failure to look outside of me.
In spite of His hurt, His sadness,
He looks down on me and says,
"You still need my love.
Even though you hurt me.
Even though you don't believe I am enough.
Even though I want you to turn to me first - not after everyone else.

But because I love you,
I will provide for you friends -
who act in my name.
Who walk alongside you.
Who listen to you.
Who offer comfort and prayer.
Who remind you to hope.
And to trust.
And to be still and know
that I am God.
I am your God."

Eloi, Eloi, lama NOT sabachthani?

Because You have promised,
and are faithful.

Saved by the Bell...

2007-02-03T17:49:00.000-06:00

It is a faithful God who gives us the changing of the seasons
both outside
and inside.

Class dismissed.

Indoor Recess

2007-02-01T18:44:00.001-06:00

Do you remember indoor recess?
On those days when it was just plain too cold to be outside?
Or maybe it was raining.

But the point
is that you were stuck inside a building...
or maybe even inside a classroom
for a whole day.
You couldn't get out.
You couldn't run around.
You couldn't get any fresh air.
And maybe you got a little out of control -
cabin fever, as it were.
You couldn't REALLY have recess
and enjoy playing outside the way you were supposed to.

Allow me to list some of the things that went wrong yesterday after 2 indoor recesses:
2 white board markers on the floor without their caps.
2 desks over-turned, contents spilling on the floor.
1 of the 2 desks was overturned on purpose -
because the kid whose desk it is "did something weird".
One boy crying.
2 kids playing keep away with a big exercise ball.
a book and pile of papers on my desk found itself knocked to the floor.
3 girls in a yelling match and tears over a "fun" game they were playing on the board that goes something like this:
"__place name here__ is a ____insert words not worth repeating here _____."
3 stolen birthday cupcakes taken from on top of peoples' desks.
Sounds like a fun day, hey?

I think I'm currently undergoing an "indoor recess."
It's like someone or something is telling me I can't get outside...
Can't run around,
let off a little steam,
maybe even a yell or two.
Some fresh air would be nice
but I'm stuck.
And it makes the inside of me go a little out of control.

There's a piece of me that needs to get out...
or be let out.
It's healthy.
It might be a bit cold.
The dark cloud may hover awhile.
My hair might even frizz from the humidity and the rain.

But really,
there's something very healing
about being honest...
something very healing
about a good breath of fresh air.

Not that I'm out to get anyone...

2007-01-28T17:08:00.000-06:00

Ever have one of those days where you're not sure which way is up?

I've had a few lately...and decided to share this upside-down-ness with one of my colleagues. Myself and a friend took some time after school the other night and turned every poster and bulletin board in his classroom upside-down.

We offered to help clean it up after school...we're not COMPLETELY heartless!
And we kept the Canadian flag right-side up.
Good citizens, indeed!

The Dutch-Italian-Ukranian...and all those...Job

2007-01-23T21:52:00.000-06:00

So there it was.
The coldest night of the year.
Not so much Bruce Cockburn's rendition,
but Winnipeg at its finest.

And the 3 cars lined themselves up.
First in the alley.
Weapons of TP and water in hand.
Then in front of Mac's.
Because really,
what else is there to do
on the coldest night of the year
than go for slurpees?
Especially in Manitoba.

So Bruce,
and Hugh and his island chain,
and all those fine cast members
who got to drive Austin Minis -
to you I say, "Amen."

"You need three at least."

An a-choir-ed appreciation...

2007-01-10T23:28:00.000-06:00

Well, it's official.
I love listening to the concert choir.
In large parts of myself,
I can't listen to music that is "choir-y".
Yeah, so I don't really know how to describe that differently.
But Dordt's concert choir was here tonight,
and they seem to have the same full sound
whenever I hear them.
Different voices every time,
but somehow the same, full sound.

I was disappointed at first that they weren't singing the "classics" -
or perhaps just the "classics" from my years at Dordt.

I wanted to hear "This Is My Father's World" and "Abide with Me".
The truth, however, is that they had two other songs
that struck not only a chord
but a heart-string.

Their version of "My God How Wonderful Thou Art"
was incredibly powerful.
It also had a most delightful paradox in its text.

The part that usually goes, "your endless wisdom, boundless power, and awesome purity" had the word "awful" in place of "awesome". And it filled that line with new meaning.
When do we use "awful" as a positive descriptor?
Never, I'd be tempted to say.
And that's what got me.
It's so awesome - we are full of wonder at His purity - full of awe, as it were.
Awful indeed.

"And You have stooped,
to ask of me,
the love of my poor heart."

Wonderful indeed.

Clearing up confusion...

2007-01-08T17:54:00.000-06:00

In case there was any confusion...
because I confused myself
into thinking that the last title should have been about hockey
but it was about a frozen lake.
There are some correlations I could make
between hockey and faith, too,
but not for now.

However, in hockey news -
besides the fact that the Oilers are not doing so hot -
the college hockey team that my brother coaches
was just ranked 4th in their division of the American Collegiate Hockey Association.
For the record,
I'm pretty proud.

Go Blades!

On the ice as in life?

2007-01-07T15:19:00.000-06:00

There's nothing quite like being out "there".
"There" being someplace where it seems like time stops,
worries disappear,
God is big
infinite
Creator
bringer of peace to my soul
full of love for little me
and I am humbled and so wonderfully not the focus.
The silence swallows me up
and I am overcome by awe
at the expanse of the sky
the brightness of the moon
and the incredible reminders
that I am in His presence...
not just "there"
but sometimes I need "there" to remind me.

I found myself at Bird Lake for awhile last week
and discovered the rest my heart and soul needed.
Peace.
Peace that seems so much easier to grab hold of when I'm surrounded by quiet and creation, and this time, surrounded by what seemed to be infinite amounts of fresh, deep snow.

The evening we were there, a few of us decided to walk across the lake.
Despite the concern of others
and the few spots of slushy snow along the way
we trudged through the knee-high (for me, anyway) snow
guided by the incredible light of the moon
tried, but failed, to call wolves and moose
and arrived on the other side.

Along the way we held a short discussion about wanting to see how much pressure it would take to actually break the ice and fall through.
Interestingly, we had 3 different ideas.
One of us wanted to find a slushy spot and jump as hard as possible to see if it would really break the ice.
One of us thought it would be fun and would gladly observe and encourage someone else to try the aforementioned approach, but would be too scared to actually try it on our own.
The third of us thought they would be gung ho to watch or partake, but would first go and get the necessary rope and safety equipment necessary to ensure that if the ice cracked there would be a rescue system in place.

As we sat with our feet on the coffee table and sang,

me, with boldness in my heart -
"Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it; prone to leave the God I love..."
I couldn't help but ask,

"What does my faith look like?"
I reflected a few times over how each of our approaches to the ice reflect different approaches that we as individuals, but also each of us within
different situations, take as we encounter God and put (or don't put) our trust in Him.

Sometimes "wandering" is not remembering how much God loves me, but going out and trying to jump through the ice when deep inside I know it's not the brightest idea.
Sometimes "wandering" is trusting God to take care as long as it's not me in the situation. My faith falls short when I'm the one being asked to jump on the ice as opposed to my adventurous friend.
Sometimes "wandering" is not trusting enough, but making sure all the right safety measures are in place before taking that leap "of faith" (or is it?).

On the other side, sometimes faith is jumping - not knowing if the ice is strong enough or not, but trusting that God will hold us.
Or faith is trusting that God is immeasurably able to do more than we ask or imagine, but not feeling called to follow Him in a certain area. And in turn, entrusting loved ones to His care as they answer calls that seem crazy, but nudges from the Holy Spirit nonetheless.
Or faith might be using what we have and what we know to serve and live lives that are indeed holy and pleasing, and that acknowledge the God given talents and wisdom we have.

That's a lot of hmm.
And a lot of asking God where I've wandered.
And then a lot of asking Him to help me trust -
when I feel secure
when I feel called
and even, or maybe especially, when I don't
or I'm not sure if I do.
When the ice seems thin and slushy
my question really ought to be,
"Am I trusting that God is bigger than me
and do I really believe
that He is holding me in His hands?"

They're good hands to be in.

The deep stuff...

2007-01-06T11:10:00.000-06:00

So after being told "enough of the deep stuff", I decided to take a momentary detour away from "the deep stuff" as it were into...well...the deep stuff. (Sorry, Mel...)

Here is indeed the deep stuff that we woke up to on Dec. 31 resulting in no church, lots of shovelling, fun driving, and a postponed trip to the cabin.

Upon leaving our New Year's event, I could not resist jumping into the mid-thigh snow pile along the driveway and making the first snow angel of 2007. I had to take a few swings to get myself out of the leg-holes and onto my back, and I understand that my landing held a resemblance to a cannonball in the deep end as all the powder went flying up.

What followed was a day and a half out at Bird Lake - walking in "the deep stuff", diving in "the deep stuff", falling in "the deep stuff", being pushed into "the deep stuff", shovelling "the deep stuff", and moaning about how tired I was from trying to keep up with my long-legged friends whilst trudging through "the deep stuff".

Did I mention that I love winter?
What loveliness!

Blips on the radar...

2006-12-28T12:16:00.000-06:00

So, Donald Miller has been set aside for awhile.
He's at home.
And I am not.

However, I've had the great pleasure of reading "Velvet Elvis" by Rob Bell.
And although I'm not a convert
I like that he gets me thinking
and asking questions
and really
doing what it takes to learn
and to grow.
Being challenged
and disagreeing
and agreeing for that matter
but being reminded of what it is to not only read and think,
but to do.
To be.

"'Your job is the relentless pursuit of who God made you to be...'" (114).

"God doesn't just want to reclaim things; God wants to see them move forward" (161).

"[The first Christians] saw it as their responsibility to put Jesus' message on display...it was less about proving and more about inviting people to experience this community of Jesus' followers" (164).

And lastly, perhaps my favourite at this point:
"Why blame the dark for being dark? It is far more helpful to ask why the light isn't as bright as it could be" (166).

So what are we doing?
What am I doing?

I recently saw "The Pursuit of Happyness".
Great movie, for the record,
but I like the "relentless pursuit of who God wants me to be" even better.
Why?
It's not over.
It's relentless.
And it's not about "happiness"
(or "happyness" as it were)
But it's about that nudge that God places in your heart.
And it's about joy.
Joy that sticks when happiness isn't a reality.
And it's about becoming
rather than arriving.
Something I've mentioned before.

Rob Bell talks a lot about how it's a journey
not a destination.
And I like that.
It means I'm not there yet.
And I won't be.
It means others aren't there yet either.
We're in this together.
Learning.
And living.
And stumbling along the way.

Invite people to really, truly experience this community of Jesus' followers.
And hear their excitement at discovering Jesus.
Grace.
Truth.
Humility.
Love.

Perhaps you'll hear your own excitement at discovering Him, too.
I'm anticipating a little of my own.

So I may get kicked out...

2006-12-13T22:40:00.000-06:00

...but I think it's worth a thought anyway.

Yeah, it's Miller again.
Really, I do still know how to think for myself.
I think.
I'm pretty sure.

So he's writing about the gospel of Jesus.
And how sometimes, we tell the whole story --
all the facts
the "five steps"
and what it all means,
but we leave Jesus out.
We forget the part about Jesus being alive and at work in our lives.
We forget that even though the facts are important,
it's the stories the deliver the heart of the message.

The stories of a Miracle Worker.
The stories of hurting people
who found grace and solace in a Saviour.
The tales of lost who were found.
Of real people,
with real experiences
who have come to know God
by being in a relationship with Him.

Miller talks about how our experience of Communion -
"sitting quietly in a large building that look[s] like a schoolroom or movie theater, to take Communion" -is so different from how the early church celebrated this same meal -
"sitting around somebody's living room table, grabbing a hunk of bread and holding their own glass of wine, exchanging stories about Christ, perhaps laughing, perhaps crying, consoling each other, telling one another that the Person who had exploded into their hearts was indeed the Son of God, their Bridegroom, come to tell them who they were, come to mend the broken relationship, come to marry them in a spiritual union more beautiful, more intimate than anything they could know on earth."

And I think to myself,
(see, I do still think!)
I know it's different.
And I know there are reasons for all the formality,
but there is something unique and sacred
about really sharing Christ in a way that actually feels like sharing.
Really being an active and alive part of a body of believers.

Hmm.

"Friend" of sinners...

2006-12-10T22:36:00.000-06:00

I've had a page bookmarked in my latest Donald Miller read for the last 6 days and decided it's finally time for me to sit down and share this fine thought with the rest of you.

The chapter I'm reading is looking a little bit more deeply into some of the characteristics of Jesus that are evident as we read the gospels. One of the characteristics that has meant a little more to me is that Jesus liked to be with people.
Don't get me wrong.
He also went up on the mountainside to pray on His own
and to have that down time/quiet time/ time with His Father.
But there's a little piece of what Miller said that got me to thinking.

"Jesus built our faith system entirely on relationships, forgoing marketing efforts and spin.

Not only that, but one of the criticisms of Christ was that He was a friend of pagans. Not that He hung out with pagans, but that He was their friend."

And I think to myself,
It's all about people.
He has called us to love one another.
And that's it.
That's the clincher.

Someone did a solo of "O Holy Night" tonight.
And it struck me again.

"Truly He taught us to love one another,
His law is love and His gospel is peace."

His law is love.
A good friend and I were discussing this a few years ago
and our conversation still sticks out in my mind.
He kept going on about how complicated we make it and how simple it's supposed to be.
Not that really, truly loving someone is simple.
But that the concept is so straight forward.
And in that we are answering God's intense call for obedience.
Loving Him means loving others.
It means living a life that's not about me.

He didn't just hang out.
He befriended them.

He befriended me.

Peace. Peace?

2006-11-26T23:23:00.000-06:00

Funny thought. Funny question.
Are there things in your life you wish you didn't have peace about?
Things you wish would be different, only you feel called to be in them the way they are?

Generally we talk about looking for peace.
And finding it when we know we are being obedient to God.
Trusting that He holds all of the details our lives in His hand.
Which is completely and fantastically true.

Only it leaves me with a bit of unsettledness.
A lot of asking God why.
And a lot of learning to love and trust Him because I know that He has my best in mind.
We sang a few songs tonight that made me chuckle.
I chuckled because God has this uncanny way of giving me what I need at the most opportune (or sometimes what seems to be the inopportune) moments.
Following a long conversation with someone about trusting God -
even when in my head certain things make no sense,
but there is an immense amount of God's peace surrounding them -
I arrived at church and was greeted by a time of "favourite hymn selection."
I didn't pick one.
Even though I am always ready to call out 489 at any moment.
(Hmm. There's an irony that just made me chuckle...489 is about peace - and being well in one's soul...)
Anyway, the first 2 songs were "If You But Trust In God to Guide You" and "Have Thine Own Way".

Now, riddle me this.
Is there a better set of songs to follow a conversation on not "getting" God,
but knowing that we have to trust and follow whatever the call -
whatever cross we've been asked to carry -
whatever it is in our lives that God is asking us to push aside in order to be obedient to Him?

Heh.
I'm glad that God gives me the grace to chuckle at me
and at the way He reminds me of what I need to hear
and at life itself.
Is there a better way to end an evening at church than with a shoulder shrug,
a shaking of the head,
and a good laugh?
Perhaps.
But that seems to be the pattern as of late.
And so far it seems to be doing well for my soul.

Benedictine Monks...

2006-11-25T10:04:00.000-06:00

A group of us engaged a challenge over the last few weeks:
to spend time in silence
simply acknowledging the presence of God.
Not thinking.
Not praying.
Just being.
And being in awe.

It's not always an easy thing to do.
My brain takes over.
I start to think
even about how I need to think about how aware and silent I'm being.
It's ridiculous.
But a good challenge.

Miller (some of you my be sick of hearing about him, but I'm only on p.61, so that's just too bad!) was talking about a book by Kathleen Norris and how she talks a little about Benedictine monks and how they would stay up late at night to study the Bible by candlelight. And I think to myself, yeah. Sigh.
There is something about darkness that makes the presence of God seem much more powerful -
or I'm simply more aware of it.
Perhaps it's the glimmer of light in the dark.
Perhaps it's simply the fact that it's dark so there are less things to distract me.
Either way, it's a powerful image.
And one I thought I'd share.

A Little Sermon in a Nutshell...

2006-11-20T23:34:00.000-06:00

I feel somewhat lacking in wisdom.
that there ought to be something deep going on in my life that I should be able to reflect on.
And the truth is that there's a lot of "deep" going on in my life.
Maybe too much.
And I don't really feel like reflecting on it.
I want things to go back to being a bit more simple.
You know - easier.
I was enjoying those days of being full of joy all the time.
And really seeing all of life's twists and turns in a positive light.
And deep down that hasn't changed.
It just seems that God is grabbing my heart.
Which is a good thing.
It's just that it's challenging.
And frustrating.
And stretching.
And forcing me to be aware of myself
and at the same time
be full of prayer-filled attempts
at making the details of life "not about me."
It seems that every song, every book,
every Scripture, every sermon
is giving me a reason to be affected.
Part of me thinks this is how it's supposed to be.
This might be the closest to a living faith journey I've been on in awhile.
Not that I haven't had some incredible moments of living faith prior to the last 6 or so weeks -
but the challenges -
the roadblocks, the potholes, the chips in the windshield, the U-turns,
and let's not forget the asking for directions -
are what make it a journey - a road trip as it were.
That's when the maps,
the company
the music
and the snacks
make it great.

So, friend, thanks for sharing dinner.
Chris Tomlin - indeed "You and I Were Made to Worship."
Go Dutch Meatball soup, orange water, and frosted mini-wheats.

And for the map...
I picked up the Phillips Translation of the Bible that used to be my Grandpa's off the floor beside my couch a few moments ago. It was the contemporary version in his day. Much like our Message.
In reality, I picked it up thinking there had to be a gem worth sharing as I felt very much lacking something to share.
Funny how God does His thing.
I opened it up to the end of 1 Corinthians and found the heading, "A Little Sermon in a Nutshell," and this is what it reads:
"Be on your guard, stand firm in the faith, live like men, be strong! Let everything that you do be done in love."

I needed to hear the "stand firm - be strong!"
God is good and God is faithful.

I also needed to be reminded to do everything I do in love.
That's not always an easy one.

Roll down the window.
Enjoy the road trip.
And find the joy in the journey.

Finding beauty in truth

2006-11-13T22:20:00.000-06:00

I picked up Donald Miller again today.
I decided that after a day where I came home in "one of those moods",
I needed to get my head back in the game.
I will also note that a nap was needed and taken.
However, before I got to napping, I got to a nugget.
One of those pieces that just hits you where you need to be struck.

In this journey we call life
or faith
or perhaps an intertwined combination of the two,
it seems that we often have high expectations of God.
And don't get me wrong.
He is good.
He wants to bless us.
He takes care of our needs.
But it's like we forget how blessed we are and take it all for granted.
When things take unexpected turns,
or we are let down
or people hurt us
or we feel alone
we fight to really live what it is we say we believe.

If "the joy of the Lord is my strength"
than why do difficult circumstances have such powerful control over my perspective on life?

It's not that the truth about God has changed.
There is something, however, about how I view what I know to be truth.

And in walks Donald Miller.

"The truth is that there are a million steps, and we don't even know what the steps are, and worse, at any given moment we may not be willing or even able to take them; and still worse, they are different for you and me and they are always changing. I have come to believe that the sooner we find this truth beautiful, the sooner we will fall in love with the God who keeps shaking things up, keeps changing the path, keeps rocking the boat to test our faith in Him, teaching us to not rely on easy answers, bullet points, magic mantras, or genies in lamps, but rather in His guidance, His existence, His mercy, and His love."

For the record, the piece about "His love" was in italics.
It needs emphasis.
God hasn't changed -
even if the way He's getting me to where I am going has.

We have sung "Guide Me O My Great Redeemer" the last few Sundays in church.
And it's quite fitting, I think.
It's a journey.
The travel route is different for each one.
But the Guide is the same.
And in that there is joy.
And a beautiful truth.

Musings as of late...

2006-11-06T22:56:00.000-06:00

Yesterday someone gave me a pleasant reprimand for hosting people at my house all the time. They were referring to people who aren't good at being served. I think it was well-intended, but got me to thinking about the why and the how and all of that.
I enjoy it.
Serving, that is.
It feels good to bless others and to see them smiling.
And since I enjoy it, it makes sense to use it in a way that benefits others, not?
It doesn't feel like work or like hard-fought obedience.
Rather, it just is.
And it's good.

This afternoon I was reading a piece out of "Tuesdays with Morrie" and I came across a piece about giving; about making life about others instead of about oneself. It went like this:
"...giving to other people is what makes me feel alive. Not my car or my house. Not what I look like in the mirror. When I give my time, when I can make someone smile after they were feeling sad, it's as close to healthy as I ever feel.
Do the kinds of things that come from the heart. When you do, you won't be dissatisfied, you won't be envious, you won't be longing for somebody else's things. On the contrary, you'll be overwhelmed with what comes back."

And I thought to myself, "Amen!"

The key is ensuring that the giving is done for that reason -
the reason of loving my neighbour as myself -
considering others better than myself.
It's not about me.
It's not about my car
(those of you who see my beauty on a regular basis may have pre-determined that part of my philosophy... :) )
Or my house -
Or the frizz and the glasses -
or even the straightened look.

Giving feeds into life.
Into feeling alive.

One of my favourite proverbs has always been:
"A generous man will prosper; he who refreshes others will himself be refreshed."

And I think it holds true as long as I'm not trying to do it in my own strength.
Then I simply get burned out.
But it comes back to that Psalm 29 business.
"The Lord gives strength to His people;
The Lord blesses His people with peace."

Indeed He does.
And in His strength, refreshing others
is an incredible source of refreshment.
Of giving life, even.

"...take hold of the life that is truly life..."

Getting "All Fired Up"...

2006-11-01T22:51:00.000-06:00

So it's still kind of a cop-out because it's not really me,
but it's something I love and have been challenged by.

I mentioned awhile back that I found another Linda Siebenga poem while looking for the one about getting on our knees in the berry patch. And I know that this one is more directed at Pentecost, but really, I think it's directed at everyday. I think it's often our everyday fear that if we pray for God's Spirit to work in our lives, it just might happen.
Anyway, it's worth a read.
And a think.
Even a thought or two.
Thanks, Linda.

A Mighty Rushing Wind

What if today the sound
of a mighty rushing wind
would fill this building
and flaming tongues appeared
above each head
our tongues becoming loosed
and eloquent
to bring the good news?

Perhaps we fear this mighty
rushing wind.
Fear that it might blow
through us.
demand our lives
our souls
our all.

Wanting just a little of the Spirit
to keep us through the day
but not a great mighty amount
rushing through us
with a surge of emotion
upsetting our conservative poise.

Wanting a little of the Spirit
to warm our lives
but not a flame hot enough
to sear
to cauterize
our sinful soul wounds.
Not so hot that we will be
compelled to share our fire.

Dare we sing “Come Holy Spirit”
with more than voices
knowing that he might come
filling us with exuberant praise
that needs to be shared?
“Come Holy Spirit
Comforter
Counsellor
Lover of my Soul.”

~ © Linda Siebenga from her book - “Windcatcher”

The 7 minute lull...

2006-11-01T22:48:00.000-06:00

So they say that every 7 minutes
there is a lull in conversation.
And people have to decide
if they're comfortable with the silence.

It's been a 15 day lull.
I'm not really comfortable with that.
7 minutes?
I can handle it.
In fact, I kind of like it.
It's good to be in silence with people.
To just be.
And to know that you are in a safe place.
A comfortable place.
Where your mind isn't spinning.
It's just "being."

15 days, however...?
I apologize.
I'm back.

So, it's settled then...

2006-10-17T23:07:00.000-05:00

Settled.
It sounds kind of final.
Sometimes I'm good with final.
Other times I'm really not.
Every now and then,
it ironically makes me feel completely un-settled.

Settled reminds me of coffee grinds
in the bottom of my cup
and how that means that I won't get them stuck between my teeth.

It sounds like an arguement that's over.
Or a decision that's been made.
It sounds like the pioneers
(or the people of Catan :) )
going into unchartered territory
and making a place for themselves.
A place to call home.
And home is a good thing.

Settled can be kind of a dangerous word, though,
when it makes us feel too safe,
too unwilling to step out of our comfort zones,
too afraid to stand on a desk for our "Captain",
or to forget that it's not about what we don't feel capable of
but rather of what we believe
that God is capable of.

Let it not be, "Oh you of little faith,"
but rather,
"Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we could ask or imagine..."

May we feel settled enough in the grace of God
to be open to
and even to invite
some un-settling within;
evidence of His Spirit
taking up a settlement in our lives.

And most fittingly,
following a settlement
ought to come a bit of development.
An ore, a sheep, and a wheat anyone?

And on that note one more time...

2006-10-10T00:51:00.000-05:00

Sheesh.
Three posts in one day.
God must be trying to teach me some things.

I heard "hang in there" in two different contexts today.

The first left me feeling hopeless
as the response given to me when I offered those words
was disheartening and non-committal.

The second didn't leave me feeling much better, to be honest,
but more because of the way I responded to them.
The words were spoken to me
and I answered with my self-pitying acknowledgement
of how that seems to be one of those gifts that I have,
but sometimes wish I didn't.

Until I went about "hanging in there"
and realizing how it's not really me who "hangs in there".
I opened my phone on the way home from the second conversation to check the time.
And noticed the verse that I never notice on my display screen:
Ps. 29:11 -- which says, "The Lord gives strength to His people; the Lord blesses His people with peace."

I am not a rock.
I can "hang in there" because God gives me the strength to do so.
Not because I am strong and immovable.

One more quote for today.
This time really, truly in the spirit of it being Thanksgiving.
It comes from a song by Caedmon's Call
and it goes like this:

"I am thankful, that I'm incapable of doing any good on my own."

It's in His hands.
He surprises me often
and provides for needs I didn't know I had.
They're good hands to be in.
And I think the second "hang in there" had more to do
with trusting those promises and His provisions to be true.

On that note...

2006-10-09T15:42:00.000-05:00

On that note of community,
I would like to share the simple joy
of sitting at a table in Tim Hortons
with good friends
eating donuts
and drinking hot beverages.
Although I love the drive-thru
and I really do
there's something delightful about
sharing Tim's with friends
and not just enjoying it on my own.

An Island Chain...

2006-10-09T14:35:00.000-05:00

So perhaps the fact that it's Thanksgiving - a time when a person is inclined to be with family, or "family" as it were,
(thanks for so many dinner invites, "family") -
and that a large number of people have asked me in the last 3 weeks how I feel about living in Winnipeg,
and the fact that the youth want to have our Sunday morning worship time on the island at the cabin,
I have done some thinking about this "island" vs. community business.

First, a thought from "About a Boy"...

"In my opinion, all [people] are islands. And what's more, now's the time to be one. This is an island age."

And a thought from Simon and Garfunkel...

"I am a rock
I am an island
I've built walls
A fortress deep and mighty
That none may penetrate
I have no need of friendship
Friendship causes pain
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain
...If I never loved I never would have cried
...I touch no one and no one touches me
...I am a rock
I am an island
And a rock feels no pain
And an island never cries"

That thought of being an island.
A self-sufficient being that is capable of existing alone.
Of not hurting.
Or having emotion.
Funny how it's not really possible.
Sometimes we pretend that it is.
And some of us pretend pretty well.
But deep down,
sometimes really deep,
I (and I hope "we")
know that it isn't possible.
Made in the image of God means we hurt
and have emotions
and need both to love and to be loved.

There are truths in my life that could have scripted that song from Simon and Garfunkel.
And truths in my life that put me and Will from "About a Boy" on a very similar page.
And yet other truths that make "community" a word that my students get sick of hearing by the 2nd week of school.
And that get people wishing they hadn't asked why I loved Dordt so much.

And that, perhaps, is what draws my attention to how incredibly I wrestle with these concepts on a very regular basis.
It's a conflict between who I'm called to be, the things that have shaped who I am, and the admission that being a "rock" is not always something to be so proud of.

God reminds me of these things often.
I am convinced it's not simply a coincidence.

And it brings me to a few other thoughts from "About a Boy"...

"Suddenly I realized - two people isn't enough. You need backup. If you're only two people, and someone drops off the edge, then you're on your own. Two isn't a large enough number. You need three at least."

"Every [person] is an island. I stand by that. But clearly some [people] are island CHAINS. Underneath, they are connected..."

We've been created for community.
It looks different
on different days
and with different people.
But the truth is that it's who we've been created to be.
And as much as we may try
We can only avoid the reality of it for so long.

I might still be a rock.
Or mostly a rock.
But here's to being an archipelago.

God asks...

2006-10-02T22:16:00.000-05:00

What do you do when God asks you a question?
Or maybe someone else asks you a question,
but deep down,
you know that God has allowed the question to be asked.

How much of you
answers the question?
How much of God
answers the question?
How much of you is aware
of how God is at work in your life?

If it's me,
I am forced to think a little.
Reflect a little
And get back into the heart of me.
It's not always an easy process.
It makes me aware of the masks that I put on
for others
but even for myself.
I have to ask what I really need.
And what I really want.
And if what I really want
Is what God really wants.

And it's enough to make a person nauseous.
Me, anyways.

And I have to be reminded
that God's hands are big enough to hold me.
And that His peace is very real
if I slow my mind down enough
to make room for Him to place it in my heart.

And a part of it has to come back to being simple.
Knowing what God wants isn't always an easy answer.
But what He needs
is a different story:
What He asks of me
is to give Him a willing heart
a humble heart
and to trust that He will walk along-side me
wherever and whenever
all those other little details
come together.

A Few Words from the Berry Patch...and then from me

2006-09-21T23:04:00.000-05:00

Strawberry Patch
- by Linda Siebenga

My mother knew
about
strawberry patches.

She knew
that the weeds
grew better
and faster there.

She knew
about transplanting
on a cool rainy day
with boots
that weighed in
ten pounds heavier
on days like that--

and the never-ending watering.

But she also knew
about the gift
surprises--

the rewards
of successful
treasure hunting.

To find under
a mat of leaves
those big red nuggets.

And she knew
that you can't
get that close
to the ground
without kneeling.

I have been thinking about this poem a lot in the last number of days.
I'm not really sure why.
It has always been one of my favourites.
It was written by a good family friend of ours.
I found another poem of hers this evening while looking for this one online.
I'll share it another time.

Anyway, this one has been reminding me of what I learned from Levente when I was in Ozd.
He talked about humble and human both coming from the same Latin word:
humus - meaning "ground".
And how important it is that we recognize their interconnectedness.
Human - Humus - Humble.

It says much about who we were created and are called to be.

I talked with my kids about humility today.
We were reading Eph. 4 where it tells us to be "completely humble."
Not just " a little" humble.
Or "a lot" humble, as one of my students put it,
but rather "completely" humble.
What does that really look like?

Well, He became human.
His feet were covered in the dust of the ground
as He walked from Jerusalem to Nazareth
and His servitude brought Him to die for the unlovable.
Sounds pretty complete to me.

Maybe there's a reason that being "grounded" is a good thing.
(Not grounded like when you were late for curfew,
but grounded like evidence that's based on something.)
It keeps us humble.
And keeps us bruising our knees
kneeling to give thanks
asking for guidance
and knowing that weeding, transplanting, and watering are part of the process.

Her mother knew more than strawberry patches.
She also had the "dirt"
on living humbly
before the face of God.

Ah, the NHL...

2006-09-17T22:30:00.000-05:00

So the NHL was back in Winnipeg
for one night.
And it was good.

Part of me is sad for the dedicated folks in Winnipeg who lost their team.
Because "loyal fans" doesn't really describe the commitment these folks have to the Jets.
Still.

I think "Go Jets Go" broke out 3 different times in the 3rd period.
The first was the loudest
and I shook my head
and joked in reply,
"Go Home Jets"
But the truth is that would be here.
Which would be good.
Because there's something great about NHL hockey.

Reality is the folks here are hockey fans.
To the core.
Jets, yes.
But hockey.
They cheered loudly when the Oilers were introduced.
And gave the same welcome to the ex-Jets from Phoenix.
Truth be told,
if Doan scored the place would've erupted.
And that would have been kind of fun.
But he didn't.
In fact, even though the Jets fans in the picture are beating me up,
Let it be known that the Oilers (and Craig MacTavish - note his head :))
won 5-0.
But it would have been fun even if they didn't.
I like the way the fan beside me put it,
"Go Hockey Go!"
Let the season begin.

atypical posting...

2006-09-16T23:44:00.000-05:00

So I finally watched The Lord of the Rings.
Took me long enough.
Like a few years.
And I liked it.
So much that I didn't even wait 24 hours between movies 2 and 3.
I wanted to see how it ended.
And I might even read The Hobbit again.
Just to put it all into perspective.

Whilst watching The Return of the King,
I had my hair straightened.
The pictures show the final results
And the good friends who I got to share the evening with.

Not really a normal posting for me,
but thought I would share these anyway.

So long summer...

2006-09-04T19:21:00.000-05:00

Sad to say, but summer is really over. I struggled greatly with bringing my boat to shore at the end of the last few strokes on the last lake.

When I left for camping and canoeing on Friday,
it was about the last thing in the world that I wanted to do.
My house was a mess,
I felt overwhelmed by way too many details that still need taking care of before my new kids come,
I was tired
I was loathing in self-pity
And I just wanted to stay home
and loaf on the couch.

However, guilt got me to go
and the fact that I know I love camping and canoeing.
I was sure I would have fun once I got there.

I drove out with a good friend
and along with good conversation
we played some humbling and heartfelt songs
acknowledging our imperfect humanness
and the depths of God's grace.
"At the top of our lungs" hardly describes how we sang.
It was what my heart needed.
And as we drove along the gravel roads
around corners and over crazy rocks that don't belong on roads
between lots of trees
watching the sun go down
I couldn't help but remember why it was that I was heading out for the weekend.
It was amazing.
The sun
creation
the known silence outside the confines of the Toyota
and the feeling of release
just by being there.
In a matter of an hour
my whole focus shifted
and I was excited to be leaving
every care in the world back in the city.

We slept under the stars -
on the rocks and in the moss -
we portaged and paddled
and swam off random rocks
we shared good conversation
we set up camp on a non-site
we sang and read and prayed
and found solitude
in the greatest church "building" there is.
I learned to kayak
and canoed by myself
and took time to journal
and watched turtles and a hawk
and a snake and listened to the loons -
who by the way are out both at night AND during the day -
and reveled at the expanse of the sky
and at how awesome we decided we are -
this was seconded by 2 men and a boy who paddled by
so we're pretty sure it's true -
and just enjoyed being.

I haven't done that in awhile.
Left every care behind.
It's incredibly refreshing.

And I only left my cares in the city.
When I returned,
sadly they were there.
The mess -
the laundry
the dishes
the school work -
the stresses and worries
the reminder that my "real" life starts again tomorrow.

For a few moments,
as I wrote in my journal
and sang in my car
and read and prayed by headlamp
in the darkness and the silence
and paddled in the quiet
God was so very present.
And I didn't consciously ask Him to come.
He was just there.
And He took all those worries and anxieties
without me consciously handing them over.
And I was at peace.
Content, relaxed, refreshed, and confident.

He knows how to do that,
God does,
to take me and mold me
when I'm unwilling and unready.
To remind me of His grace,
of my significance in His plan,
of the simplicity of life and love,
of his power and infiniteness,
and of the joy
that comes from trusting
and casting my cares on Him.

Imagine if I invited Him to come
and be where I am all the time
or if I left my worries at His feet
instead of just back in the city.

Affirmer...I wish.

2006-08-31T00:14:00.000-05:00

So I was at this thing last night that is part of the training for the Franklin Graham Festival.
I won't be here for the festival, but it's good stuff to listen to.
And we got a bunch of youth to come out as well.
It's good to talk with them a bit about sharing their faith.
And good to recognize how hard it can be sometimes.

One of the pieces the guy was talking about last night was how we can either be affirmers or evaluators.
That's a tricky one for me.
In fact, very contradictory.
I know that I am an affirmer.
In fact, I really think that encouraging others is something I do well.
Something I enjoy,
And maybe something that I would even call a gift.
The awkward part
is that as soon as he said what he did,
I felt very guilty for my evaluating.

Really, truly, I'm an evaluator.
I wish I could turn it off sometimes.
Not all the time,
because I know that evaluating and discerning are both good things.
Valuable and important.
When it comes to ideas and beliefs and understanding what the Truth really is.

However, when it comes to people,
being an affirmer is much more important.
And it's here that I run a little stuck.
I am incredibly judgmental.
And quick to criticize.
And to recognize areas where someone "doesn't measure up",
sometimes before I've really had a chance to get to know them.
And my pride stops me from offering grace when I know that's exactly what I'm being called to do.

I'm pretty sure I know which is the higher calling.
And certain, as well, that I've got a lot of work to get there.

The five people you meet on earth...

2006-08-26T23:35:00.000-05:00

The last weeks of my holidays have come and gone, and there is indeed much to say about a trip to Iowa, to Holland, and then to camp. However, what I want to write about is one of the books I read on one of my inbetween days - "The Five People You Meet in Heaven."

Essentially, for those who haven't read it, it is the story of a man who, after he dies, meets five people whom he encountered at some point in his life. They explain different aspects of his life to him and help to make sense of details that put the "big picture" together. Pieces of it caught my attention in different ways, but needless to say, it's a good story.

And it got me to thinking.

Who are the random people that I meet or have met along the way who remember me for reasons or incidents that I have never thought twice about?

Who are the people in my life who have had an impact on who I am, but whom I've never told?

What are the little pieces of the puzzle that I have never fully understood, but just went along in stride, never knowing the "why"?

What are the little pieces of the picture that I didn't even know about, but happened along the way and contributed to who I am?

All very interesting things to think about.
I found out during my week in Holland how much I messed up my parents' plans.
I mean, I know I messed them up along the way.
And I know that plans are just plans and life has a way of never really going according to plan.
But apparently we were going to move to the States before I turned 10 and my dad had all these great plans to go back to university and then I got sick and their went the family finances.
And thus, there went the plans.
To be quite honest,
it kind of shook me up.
And I felt a little sick.
And then I read this book.
And I thought,
indeed, make the most of every opportunity.

Of all of them.

A foothold...

2006-08-08T01:33:00.000-05:00

The truth is that it's time for a quick cat nap before leaving for Holland for a week.

The other truth is that I've been confronted by this concept of needing to be able to offer grace.
My own need for grace and the incredible gift of grace that I've been given has recently been played out in front of me quite blatantly.
And a number of times.
There may be a good reason.
It is engaged in a serious battle with my own ability to offer grace.
Somehow there is a big part of me that just can't.
It sounds ridiculous when I go over it in my head.
But part of my heart just isn't there.

I've been promised grace and forgiveness.
However, my need to extend that grace in return is crucial.
And I'm stopped in my tracks.
I can't.
I can pretend.
But my heart isn't there.
And so really,
I'm not sure that's grace at all.
And if I can't offer it,
why should it be offered to me?

I know the right answer to that question.
But that right answer is in my head.
And although that's a start,
it's not where that answer needs to be.

It's not an easy one.
But a tough reality.
And it humbles me
More than I like to be humbled.

It gets to the heart of what grace is really all about.
And it gets to my heart.
And it reminds me how skewed and selfish I am.
And stubborn.

And thus, in need of grace.
I just can't.
Not on my own.

I'm going to need a little help
to not make that foothold so easy.

Change...

2006-07-29T20:29:00.000-05:00

I like the spare kind.
And the leave kind in the fall.
And the kind that lets me put on a hoodie and jeans
at the end of a long day.

I like the kind that gets me away from talk radio and back to the music.
And the kind that gets me from a red light to a green light,
that gets rid of a flat tire,
and that puts me in a new place with new people every now and then.

It's the kind that happens on the inside of me
that I seem to have a bit of trouble with.
Don't get me wrong.
I like that kind, too.
After the fact.
But it's not always easy while it's happening.

I've been reading Donald Miller.
He might show up here a little more often.
I'm only on page 81.

"Everybody has to change, or they expire. Everybody has to leave, everybody has to leave their home and come back so they can love it again for all new reasons....Only the good stories have the characters different at the end than they were at the beginning....Leave....Don't worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed."

I'm not saying that I'm planning on going anywhere big -
leaving that is.
Not at this point anyway.
But I like the concept.
And I think I know it to be true...
in many regards in my own life,
and in at least some regards in the lives of others.
Not leaving, like running away.
But changing.

And even though it might be something that can be tough for me
I also know it's something that's good.
Change is good.
It lets us become.
If we don't change,
We just stay the way we are.
And that goes against who we're called to be.
Always changing.
Becoming more.
Becoming better.
And knowing that it happens
within the story of grace.
The story that shapes us.
The story that we are a part of.
The story that has characters at the end that are different from who they were at the beginning.
Except for one.
He never changes.
He who promised is faithful.

Sweat the small stuff...

2006-07-26T15:58:00.000-05:00

...not my overall philosophy on life --
I try not to sweat too much stuff at all --
but I've concluded that it matters.

I think it goes back to a piece that I read in college.
A piece that identified "noticing" as a gift.

I kind of chuckle at that one sometimes.
Because sometimes I miss a lot.

Recently I saw a card that said,
"Some people make things happen.
Some people watch things happen.
And some people say, 'What happened?'"

Sadly, I saw myself as the last of the 3.
Missing details.
Missing the goings on of what's around me.
Ask our family friend who put a beautiful arch over her front sidewalk.
I walked under it -
leaves and branches all around me-
and when I arrived in the backyard
she asked if I liked the archway.
My honest response was, "What archway?"

Perhaps I'm simply not a superstar at noticing stuff.
And, although embarrassing, humbling, and quite humourous at times,
It's not the end of the world.

Noticing people, however, is where I think
"sweating the small stuff" matters.

Things like a few weeks ago when someone remembered
that sugar-free ice cream was a better choice
and picked some up,
just for me.
Or someone quietly offering me driving directions
Or chuckling aloud, offering me directions to the stadium store
Or bringing a large, 2 milk and a sweetener over
when I am having a rough day.
Or giving me a hug
when I'm frustrated that I need a puffer
in the middle of a good shift at Ultimate -
Or remembering that I don't have all I need for a canoe trip
and bringing what I'm missing,
without me even asking.
Or sending me an email after I called
and couldn't talk because I was crying.
And knowing that I just needed
that little nudge of encouragement.

And I guess I could go on for a long while.
It's the small stuff.

No one bought me a new car
or paid my mortgage
or wrote my history paper
(even though I offered a good bribe :)...)
no one convinced me it was all going to be okay
(even though I'm too stubborn to be convinced of lots of things --
maybe they knew that and didn't want to try...)

But the small stuff makes a difference.
It's the little things.
Like trying to understand a person for who they really are.
And not being so self-focused
that I forget what's all out there -
not just on the outside,
but what's going on on the inside, too.

It really matters...
or so I've noticed.

Granola Bars and Blue Doors

2006-07-16T00:44:00.000-05:00

So I was talking to a friend yesterday
about love
and what it really is
and how we express it.
And how as a culture we're scared to express it,
and yet we need to know that it's there.
And that it's real.
How parts of it are very intentional -
letting people know that you love them, that is.
But how we're not always comfortable with
how to say it
or how to show it
because we're afraid of what kind of response we'll be given.
Or maybe because we're afraid
that there won't be any response at all.

And then I got an email from someone wise
who quoted someone else wise
who said,
"Never look down on anyone,
unless you are reaching down to help him up."

And it reminded me of the man on the corner
who put a smile on my face this week.
He was asking for money or food.
I rolled down my window and handed him a granola bar.
For which he thanked me and smiled.
And then he paused and said,
"Nice blue doors."
It was a friendly chuckle.
Not a mocking or judgmental chuckle...
(who would mock my car? :) )
But kind of one that said,
"You don't have it all together either."
Almost like he was impressed by them.
And glad that I left them blue
instead of painting them to match everything else.

And then my thinking went back
to the conversation I was having with my friend.
About how love works.
And how often love is expressed by mutual trust.
A shared willingness to show weakness.
And a shared acceptance of who we are as imperfect people.

It seemed so simple for the man on the corner.
He looked down on me...
to help me up to a different understanding.

Sometimes it seems so difficult
with the people whom we really love.
Or who really love us.
Why is it so terrifying?

It challenges me to be honest.
It challenges me to be vulnerable
and not pretend like I have it all together.
And it challenges me to listen.
To really listen.
And to keep working on the invaluable need
to notice.

And it reminds me how important it is to
thank those who have shared their "blue doors" with me.
And have let me share mine in return
(both pre- and post- functioning handles...)
And for that matter, those who have helped me work on the glitches.
Like making the "blue door"
actually work the way it was designed to.

And so I can drive on,
roll down the window
on my blue "door"
and hand over some Quaker Chewy bars.
Want a ride?

Typhoon Parties...

2006-07-13T02:30:00.000-05:00

So, I know it's late, but I just hung up the phone with my friend in Taipei.
She is having a typhoon day....like a snow day she says.
The office is closed and no one is working because the wind is crazy.
So she went out for lunch
and now they're planning a"typhoon party".
People over to hang out and play games.
and not work.
Sign me up for one of them.

So, she's great.
And says that she misses life here.
And wants you all to email her.
Even if she is a slow responder.
(That's like an EMT, but the opposite...)

And I'd like to share my delight at the fact
that she kept talking to me even though her floor was covered in puddles from some weird moisture thing in the wall or the ceiling or near the window.
On a fourth floor dorm, you shouldn't have puddles on the floor.
But she did.
And she stayed on the phone.
She did try to clean it up...in case some of you think she is irresponsible and just leaving it, or leaving it for someone else, but she tried whilst talking.
to no avail.
But we chatted on...
into the wee hours of the morning.
actually it's like 1:30 in the afternoon for her now.
Just like the old days.
In front of the yellow canopy.
Ah, the yellow canopy.

Good times in the community car.
Which for her sake I will mention...
is no longer a community car.
the door handles are all fixed.
I took some tools and another friend to the wreckers
and we figured it out.
We took off the old
and made them into my new.
It was cheap
and we felt pretty smart.
So she and I?
We went for ice cream...

One is never enough...

2006-07-12T00:23:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid
and we visited people's houses,
my mom always said we could take "two".
2 cookies, 2 glasses of juice, 2 hand-fulls.
Less was okay, but never more.
We of course figured out the system.
2 bowls of chips, 2 of each kind of cookie.
We were so smart. :)

So, 2.
I was going to write 2 things, but I guess that story is kind of one.
So the other one will have to wait for another day...

Thought #2...a comment in an email with a friend awhile back got me to thinking.

The intention in describing the person we were talking about was to say that they definitely put God first.
Only it came out differently.
The message came to me saying that this person "defiantly put God first."
And although funny,
and undoubtedly a typo,
I have to admit that it challenged me quite intensely.
I know that I strive to "definitely" put God first.
And sometimes I really do.
Sometimes I surprise even myself
at how God can work in me to make something possible to hand over
even when it seems like humanly speaking
I want to hold onto it even more tightly.
However, more often than I'd like to admit,
I "defiantly" put God first.
I give Him everything except for the last detail.
I give Him everything...kind of...
I have to give it back
again and again.
I give Him everything
when that's what He's forced me to do.
Not just nudged me
or whispered in my ear,
but shaken me up good
or knocked me to my knees
because He knows that sometimes
I learn the best that way.

Ah, typos... :)
I like that God uses the small stuff.
I also like that my brain is taking time to be pensive about this stuff.
Ah, summer.

2006-07-07T17:07:00.000-05:00

"Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes -
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries."

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Yeah, I wish I could take credit for that one,
but I can't.

I do like it however.
It goes back to that delights thing.
But not so much as noticing the blessings,
as simply noticing God.

When talking to some youth group kids about "quiet time",
a friend shared with them that they don't have to fill the space.
It's enough sometimes to just be
and know that God is there, too.
In His presence is a good place to be.

And it brings me to another good quote.
This time from Clive Staples...
(aka C.S. Lewis...)

"A man can no more diminish God's glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word 'darkness' on the walls of his cell."

God's glory is all around us.
Whether we choose to notice it
or acknowledge it
is a totally different matter.

Not that I'm opposed to "plucking blackberries",
(I think raspberries would be better...)
but maybe when we do,
it wouldn't be a bad idea to be barefoot.

Delights...

2006-07-05T23:15:00.000-05:00

Two stories.
The first happened in college.
Okay the second one did, too.
Oh, college.
Oh, learning...but the not the kind
of learning you think happens at college.
Much better than learning about the stuff that is
"beyond the ken of both victor and vanquished."
Yeah, I had to ask what it meant, too. :)

The first.
I was telling a friend how writing was an "out" for me.
She chuckled and said, "No, it's an "in".
"What?' I asked, giving her my scrunched up face.
She laughed at my face (only because it was scrunched...)
"It's my totally honest me," I told her, trying to explain what I meant by "out".
"I know," she assured me.
"It might be an "out" for you, but it's an "in" for the rest of us.
That's when we get to see your heart.
You're honest and real when you write.
So for those of us who read what you write,
and who you write to,
We get the "in".
We get to know you."

Ah, good friend.
She taught me how to be honest more often than when I write,
and for that I thank her.
But she was right.
And so I write.

Story two.
In my challenging, but fantastic writing class my last year of college,
we were assigned a "delight".
At the time, I wasn't really sure what to write about.
Our prof talked about finding that $5 bill
in your winter coat pocket
the first time you pull it out in the fall.
And about holding his first grandchild.
I couldn't relate.
What I wrote about is immaterial at this point,
but I like the idea of "delights".
It's a great way of acknowledging the simple moments of joy in my life.
Some are things that make me smile a little.
Others really "get me" and it's really joy.
And so, although I am not planning to dive in to the real ENG301 style,
with adjectives and metaphors and great descriptions,
I think I see my own heart (refer to story 1)
when I'm really honest
and take the time to enjoy the little blessings.
Cause there are lots.
Need I say it again?
He is good.

Recently -
**I got a scrape from diving in Ultimate.
It's from diving for a disc (which I missed,
but let's ignore that point for now).
I gave my best effort.
And it reminded me of the other scrape on my leg
from playing beach volley-ball.
I dove a lot (the sand was soft and it was fun...)
But someone on my team said I was a hard-worker.
Yay.

**My friend gave me a serious tutoring session
on how to find my way around the UofM.
She even printed out a picture of the building I needed to find.
And on my first day there, I only got honked at once.
And I didn't get lost.
I was quite excited.
(I got lost in the library on day 2, but let's ignore that part...)

**I was riding in the car with a friend tonight.
We passed someone riding a bike.
She turned around towards the biker,
clapped her hands
and said,
"Good job! Good job!"
I chuckled to myself.

That's all.
Not all.
But enough for now.

better thing about honesty...

2006-06-30T00:31:00.000-05:00

So, funny thing about trust.

When it's there,
you know that your friend is real.

And that whole thing about trust meaning that you can be really real, and honest...

It means you have to be honest
when you feel like you've been un-trusted.
And honest that you've been hurt.
And you have to trust that the supposed un-truster
Can handle your honesty.
Otherwise you've un-trusted them.

And honestly, if all that trust is real,
Then the truth is okay.
No matter what it is.
That's a friendship grounded in grace.
And truth.
And in something deeper than me.
It's about honouring someone else.
And accepting their friendship as a gift from God.

Sounds hokey.
But it's real.

honest.

funny thing about trust...

2006-06-26T20:12:00.000-05:00

Funny thing about trust.
It grows
and sometimes
you don't even see it happening.
It just does.
And suddenly, you realize that your walls are down.
And honesty isn't work.
And being real is really real.
And hearing things that stink are okay.
And saying things that stink are okay, too.

Until your heart is questioned.
And in an instant, you feel untrusted.
It might not be a word - untrusted.
But it's a feeling.

And it doesn't matter how many times
you explain it away
and tell yourself that it's okay.
It's really not.

And you don't take falling asleep for granted.
You actually consider getting up at 4:45
in hopes of making something productive of your alertness.

Funny thing,
that un-trust.
It hurts.

Trust...and obey

2006-06-18T20:47:00.000-05:00

I've been challenged to think a lot in the last while.
And thinking a lot also puts into question where my heart is at.
Sometimes I think I can keep the two separate.
But really, I'm learning that I can't.
What I think about is what's on my heart.
And what's on my heart is what I think about.

And the consolidation of them (thanks, Margaret)
Has brought me to that age old chorus of
Trust and obey.
I know they are supposed to just go together nicely...
trust and obey.
The thing I've come to realize, however,
is that sometimes it's easy to say, "I trust."
God is faithful.
God is good.
He cares for His children.
Sounds simple, doesn't it?
The funny part is that it's not that easy.
The trust part - it's a head thing.
Mind over matter.
That I can do.
But the obey part - it's more than a mindset.
It's a following through.
It takes action.
It asks me to check in on who God is calling me to be.
And the truth is that's not always an easy answer.
It goes back to that verse in Ephesians.
"Find out what pleases the Lord."
Again, simple?
I think not.
Obedience isn't just something I can decide and do.
First I have to figure out what obeying God really means.
And it's not always the same thing.
Sounds like a lot of reasons to throw my hands up.
Argghh.
Or sighhhh.
Impossible.
Impossible?
Sort of...but I'm not in it alone.
He's promised to help me understand what I need to.
(Not necessarily all that I want to...)
And to walk alongside me through the entire mess.
And to bring me blessing through my choices.
Not necessarily to agree with all my choices.
Or to make them hurt-free.
Or to have them turn out the way I think they should.
But to be there nonetheless.
And to hold me in His hands.
They're big hands.
Steady and full of grace.
Good thing.
And He won't throw His up at a loss for what to do next.
He is constant.
And is holding me tightly.
Gripped in His grace.

Ah, rest...

2006-06-13T14:06:00.000-05:00

I have the unfortunate experience of not having a voice.
Funny thing, not having a voice.
At first I thought it was unfortunate.
My friends laughed at me.
And told me how awful I sounded.
And I couldn't really communicate very well.
But, it has landed me a day at home as I can't teach without one.
And other than the voice, I feel pretty good.
And you don't really need to talk to anyone when you're at home alone.
Except telemarketers.
I had one ask me if I was okay today.
He thought I was on oxygen and perhaps dying.
Then he asked if I had the flu.
It was a good transition and he didn't spend 20 minutes trying to convince me to buy his product.
So that was good.
I can't sing, however, and that's a bit of a challenge.
But it means I have to listen.
So I did.
I listened to music.
And didn't sing.
And then I listened to 3 sermons from Brian.
Haven't done that in awhile, but it was good.
I think it would be fun to call my mom to chat, but alas, back to that not chatting thing.
And I could call the university to find out about parking for my summer course.
Only they wouldn't understand me on the other end.
Okay, so it's not all sunshine.
But I'm getting work done.
And that's a good thing.
Yay me.
Only 2 weekends left until all procrastination must be finished.
Yikes.

Home Sweet Home...

2006-05-09T23:49:00.000-05:00

We had a children's choir in from Uganda today.
20 orphans and their "aunties" and "uncles".
Amazing.
Their energy and enthusiasm was inspiring.
They were singing and dancing and smiling the whole way through.
And I was tapping my toes and (trying to) dance, and also smiling the whole way through.
Contagious joy, really.
I couldn't help but reflect their joy.

And then it dawned on me.
No one misses them.
They don't have parents to call to say they are having a good time.
Or that they arrived safely.
Or who will greet them with open arms at the airport upon their return.
They are gone for 6 months.
And they are with all the family they have.
They share their stories with each other.
And that's good.
But there is this crazy delight in arriving home from a trip and sharing tales of the adventures you've been on.
And knowing that your mom or dad waits eagerly to hear exactly that.

I wanted to hug all of them.
And to suddenly put an addition onto my house.
I'm pretty sure I could hold 20 kids in the backyard in tents for now.
Almost positive.

Uganda.
Prayers for the children of Uganda.
Is there a reason they are tugging at my heart strings?
Suddenly they aren't Invisible Children anymore.

Humming and Hawing...

2006-05-08T00:15:00.000-05:00

After many attempts at this, a blog has been created. All in the name of posting on someone else's blog.
Ah well, probably a good thing.

Today a crew of us went to the snake pits in Narcisse, Manitoba.
A lot of snakes.
Like 5000.
In one place for mating season.
Crazy business.
Relaxing to hold them.
Fun to catch them.
Intriguing to see the spaghetti noodle piles of snakes falling off the edges into the pits.
How do they all know to come back to the same place every year?
For enough years that it's a tourist attraction with signs and everything.
Wow.
Really, that's all there is to say.

It's time for me to get back to work.
Or sleep.

The silence of post-midnight is good.
Fitting, even.
It's like the world is supposed to be quiet and be okay with that.
Sometimes the world doesn't get that you can be quiet during the day, too.

Be still and know that He is God.
me