Somewhere in Time

Sticks and Stones

2012-02-02T07:21:00.000-08:00

I remember the first time my mother said it to me. I'm sure she didn't mean it in a mean way. She was simply stating the facts as she saw them.

"You were a mistake." she said to me.
My mother was fourteen years old when she gave birth to me. It doesn't take rocket science to figure out that i was not a "planned" pregnancy. I was not a wanted child. I was a child conceived out of rebellion.
When she said those words to me I felt the weight of them on my entire being. The words reverberated in my heart most of my life. Unwanted, unloved, a mistake.

One day, God stepped in. He showed me the view from earth and the view from heaven on the day of my birth.

The atmosphere in the hospital room where I was laying in my child-mother's arms was sad, depressing, like someone had died. The nurses were angry and judgemental . My grandparents were devastated. My mother's childhood gone. A child caring for a child.

Then God showed me the view from heaven. I saw him holding something in his arms, a small bundle. When I looked closer I saw that it was me. He smiled and threw his head back and shouted "I have been waiting for this moment!"

And then, God began to dance.

He spun and he twirled with me in his arms. God was celebrating. My life had meaning as he had intended all along. All the hurtful words, washed away in just a minute. I was rescued.

This past December I was in Mexico. I saw a young girl with a baby on one of the outreaches we were doing. I heard her story a week later. She too had her baby at fourteen. I couldn't help but think of my story as I looked at the little boy. But her story is much different than mine.

At fourteen years old she had been sold by her grandmother to a forty year old man. Her grandmother was very poor and needed the money. The young girl became pregnant immediately. A woman from a local church heard about the situation and bought the young girl her freedom back.

For this young girl and her baby boy, life will never be the same because of what one person did, the hope she gave to a hopeless situation. In just one moment life was forever altered, lives where change, spared, rescued because one person took the time to hear God, do the right thing, and save lives.

Wes Stafford, President of Compassion International, has recently written a book titled "Just a Minute". It is a book about how, in just a minute you can change the life of children around you. Please take a look at the video and then be prepared to change the life of a child forever.

Praying for Margarette

2012-01-24T11:32:00.000-08:00

I met Margarette four years ago. Her beautiful smile and sparkling eyes caught my attention immediately. Over those four years our friendship grew. I think she was the type of woman that everybody feels they are close to. She really knew how to draw you in, make you feel special. We talked about business, family, children. She told me of difficulties she was going through in a certain relationship, I told her about my challenges with raising teens. We would laugh, cry, vent, all over a meat counter in a backwoods community. Margarette was special. When I didn’t get to see her for a week I would pray for her. I felt like we were kindred spirits, that being friends was no accident.

Then, one day when I walked into her little butcher shop, I asked Margarette how she was doing. Her sparkling eyes filled up with tears. “I just found out,” she said “I have cancer.” I could not hold back the emotion I was feeling. I so wanted to be strong for her. She had been through so much, and now cancer. It didn’t seem fair.

I ranted at God for a bit. How could He? How dare He? Why would He? I don’t understand. I remembered my daughter’s brief scare with cancer, how He whispered in my heart, how He told me that “No matter what, I am bigger still.”

Bigger than anything I would ever have to face.

Bigger than any fear I have.

I would never have to walk alone.

So, I wrote Margarette a note telling her exactly that – God is bigger still, no matter what. And then I began praying for Margarette. Every day, several times a day I would think about Margarette and I would pray. Soon it became apparent to me that I didn’t really know how to pray for Margarette so I began to ask God how to pray. I thought, perhaps God would give me multiple verses to quote on trust and healing but all I was ever sure about was to pray for Peace, the kind that passes all understanding, and Joy, the kind that fills all the spaces in the air around you and the places deep inside you. I prayed the same things for her children as well. I went away for a month and didn’t stop praying. The thought of Margarette was with me constantly.

When I got back from my month long trip I went to see Margarette. “She’s in the hospital,” her daughter told me, “getting treatments.” I wanted to run right over there and see her, let her know I had not forgotten, God had not forgotten. I couldn’t go right away due to the fact that I had one nasty flu. I found out she had been transferred to a nearer hospital. As soon as I was better I was going to drop in.

Then Wednesday came. It was like any other Wednesday. Blustery, wind-blown, blue grey sky. I needed to pick a few things up from Margarette’s butcher shop. As I drove on to the parking lot I saw no other vehicles and a sign on the door – “Closed due to family emergency”. My heart sank. I prayed some more – peace and joy.

Two days later I found out Margarette had gone to be with Jesus. When I heard the news I wept and all the questions of “Why?”came rushing to my mind. Human nature wants to know “Why” when we did all the right things, why doesn’t it work out the way we think it should.

I have no answers.
(And if you think you do please keep those thoughts to yourself. I’ve heard pretty much everything. I’m okay with not having answers.)

What I do know is that never once has God ever left us. Not once. In the midst of heartbreak He is there. His love covers every pain, every bit of brokenness, every ounce of hopelessness. God is bigger still. He is Healing, He is Wholeness, He is Hope.

This is what we have.

P.S. I haven’t stopped praying for Margarette’s children.

It's Been A Long Time...

2012-01-16T08:08:00.000-08:00

Sorry I've missed you all this past year. Life sometimes throws you curve balls and it takes a bit to pick yourself up again.

So here I am, picked up, ready to tell you about what life's like from my prospective, hoping that you will see Jesus in everyday life.

2011 proved to be one of the most challenging years on record for me. There were lots of good times but two main events seemed to taint this year.

On February 5, 2011 I get a phone call from my oldest daughter. She is crying, sobbing really. She's hurt her arm, she tells me through her tears, maybe it's broken. So I rush to the school to pick her up, then rush to the hospital where they tell me "go home, she's fine, just a little sprain." That was a year ago.

If I would have known the ups and downs we would have encountered after that initial visit I might have just believed the doctor and left it at that.

During this same time another one of my children was being assessed for learning difficulties. After weeks of tests I sit across from the psychologist and I hear her tell me things I do not want to hear about my child. I think she is completely wrong and hold myself back from doing something I regret.

Michaela's arm was getting worse. She could barely use it. It seem that something more was going on so I decided to take her to another Doctor. This doctor says it's not a sprain and does an MRI. The lab tech finds something as he is scanning her. The doctor tells me not to worry. I don't at first but begin to when he does nothing. I take her to another doctor. This doc sets up appointments with specialists. One of these specialists tells us that she is sure Michaela has cancer. And sends us off to cancer care where we see all these little children with I.V. bags - chemo being pumped into their little veins. This is the day that I loose it completely. I weep. I cry. I wonder how life can be so hard in an instant. How can life just fall apart like that? Then I feel Jesus right beside me in the cancer ward telling me that He is bigger than any problem I will be facing. Not to worry. "You need comfort? I'm your comfort. Peace? You're looking at it. I'm not loosing sleep over this. Trust me." And that was the beginning of a very interesting year.

A few weeks later and a few more tests, the doctor calls and tells us it was a false alarm - no cancer. A few months later the MRI confirmed it. The celebration that went on in our house was HUGE.

As for my other child, I still believe the diagnosis the psychologist gave us is wrong although my daughter does struggle with some aspects of school. But I am finding new ways to help her with school work. And the teacher tells me she is almost at grade level with most things.

The last month of the year we spent in Mexico as a family. This was probably the very best thing we ever did as a family. You'll probably be hearing about it as the weeks go by.

I am so grateful for how Jesus met us all this year. Couldn't have done it without him. He never ceases to amaze me and I don't know where I'd be without him.

As for you and me... let's hangout a little more often. I'd love to hear what's going on in your life as well.

Where does the time Go?

2010-10-14T12:42:00.000-07:00

2010 The Year of Love

This morning I woke up and realized that an entire year had slipped by. Somehow it had managed to sneak right past me. I wonder “Where does time go?” Does it simply slip off to some abyss with no trace of it or does it get stored somewhere for later use? Perhaps it’s even a breath away, waiting behind a veil, in another dimension. That’s what it seems like to me. One day I’m 14 the next I’m 41! How does it happen so fast? It doesn’t feel like years of ebbing and flowing, changing and molding. It feels like someone put me on a rocket ship and I reached here in 60 seconds. And just to prove my theory listen to this: I am now officially the parent of a 16.5 year old who HAS HIS LICENSE. I remember when I got my license. Wasn’t that yesterday? My baby is no longer a baby, she’s in grade 1. I remember my first day of grade one – in the same school as my baby, in the class room across the hall from where my baby is in class all day. I walked those halls not so long ago. I lined up to go to gym and library, I diligently sat at my desk and worked hard. I’m sure that happened just last week.

But when I pinch myself I realize that a lot of time has passed, a lot of it! I’m a different person now. I don’t care so much what people think of me. Thank God, because this past week I’ve had some pretty interesting conversations with folks. I’m finding, for the first time in my life, I have this focused feeling going on. Never, ever have I ever had that before. I’m actually accomplishing things on my Life List. I’ve mellowed, and don’t cry so much! THAT IS HUGE! I’m trying to behave wisely and not be an idiot quite so often. I’m learning what it means to be slow to speak and quick to listen especially to my gut when it’s telling me something. I don’t take it personally when my teenager refuses to tell me he loves me (he saved it for my birthday (that’s what he told me!)) I don’t blame myself for things I have no control over. I continue to do my best in every situation.

But most of all I’ve learned to love as if my life depended on it. This kind of love is not the kind of love that makes you want to lie down and let people walk all over you. It’s the kind of love that is fierce and willing to fight for the truth, for justice in situations where there is none. It’s the kind of love that makes you look at a drug addict through different eyes seeing the pain and the brokenness in them but knowing full well you can’t change their circumstances, that’s something they have to choose. It’s the kind of love that doesn’t quit praying for a dying man who has been hard against God his entire life, so that he might find rest and peace in the name of Jesus before it’s too late. It’s the kind of love that gives hope to an abused woman through kind words and gentle gestures, things she thinks she is not worthy of. It’s the kind of love that is not afraid to tell others what God has so graciously done in life so that they might find freedom as well.

So I guess this whole growing up thing is ok. Time has passed and I have learned so much. I don’t think I’d even want to go back to my younger years. I like the person I am today and I’m looking forward to the changes I’ll see in another year. Bring it On!

As for the grey hair and wrinkles? It’s nothing a box of color and Botox can’t fix.

No More Ridin' Solo

2010-09-14T11:32:00.000-07:00

This morning I woke up. You’d think it would be a good kind of wake up. I had a great sleep, woke up from a happy dream, no kids were up when I got up. All in all it should have been a great morning. To top it off, all five kids (yes count them) would be in school today. What could make a mother happier? But for some reason I wasn’t happy. It took one kid an hour to get dressed properly. I was snarling under my breath. Even told him to hurry his a- - up. He looked at me and laughed. That didn’t help matters. Another child couldn’t find matching socks. She assured me that at least one of them had made it into the laundry. And the other? Perhaps the cat would barf it up later (at least she was getting food).

Breakfast was shoved down a few throats with a reminder not to forget to brush teeth or they might all fall out of your head. Two out of five heeded the warning. I’m expecting to find teeth strewn about the house in the next few days.

The dogs were looking rather slim. This is not a good sign at our place. Someone had been forgetting to feed them. They were also starting to lick the saliva off the cat’s chin, quite possibly they hadn’t been watered in a few days either.

Fish was looking a little less than colourful so I threw a piece of spaghetti in the tank and hoped it wouldn’t strangle herself on it. Fish only eats until she is full (a moment of jealously crept into my mind) she can save the rest for tomorrow because it’ll probably be all she’ll get for a few days.

I am standing there wondering why I would have to remember to feed 2 dogs, 2 cats, 51 chickens and a Japanese fighting fish when I have 5 kids to stick some nutrition in. Almost on the edge of feeling sorry for myself, for a moment I felt a little desperate. Not to mention some other things, just little things like finances, a child who needs some extra help, relationships that seem to be slipping mostly because I don’t have time for them because I am feeding a stinkin’ zoo that seems to take up all my time. And laundry? Don’t even get me started.

It was at that pivotal moment when everyone ran out of the house to catch the bus. Ran is the word I use here because I think they were all scared at what was going to happen next if any one of them was caught standing inside the house another minute. In the moment that it took for all 5 kids to book it out of the house and slam the door I realized that I had not said one I love you, or Have a great day or Make Good Choices because I have spies. In that moment I realized how much I missed it, missed being involved in their lives and only involved in mine. And at that moment I realized how much I needed God. I’d been riding solo (sorry Jason Derulo it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.)

So I told God exactly that. I’d been riding solo and solo is not a good life for me. I told him that today I really, really needed him. And in that next moment everything changed. Peace filled every crevice of my frazzled self. And I even felt like writing (this is a small miracle in itself!), Words had been eluding me for some time and I had been frustrated. Even the frustration was gone. I could feel creativity wiggle its way through my body right out into my finger tips. And it felt so good!

No more ridin’ solo for me. I’ll be the first to admit I can’t do life without God.

Selah

2010-07-14T17:17:00.000-07:00

2010 The Year of Love

I’ve been an okay mother, not so good wife and a terrible Christian.

I’m just thankful God loves me regardless of my status on the Christian meter.
I’m thankful he doesn’t keep tabs or strikes against – I would have been out a long time ago.

The day I realized my poor status there was this pause in heaven, or at least myself. The pause was the moment I got it. The moment the realization of just how often I had put God on the back burner and how often I tried to give it a go all by myself. It wasn’t a bad pause or a sad pause. It wasn’t a pause where I beat myself up, stripped naked and wear camel hair. It was this “AHA” that came over me, this moment of revelation when I realized just why things had been going downhill.

I’m not talking about a sudden urge to become a drug addict or beat my children. There was no thought of running out on anyone or even feeling remotely bummed out. There was just this void space that seemed to follow me. I think it was the space where God and I used to talk. Only problem was I had moved out the couch and latte machine and found a spot more fast paced, more contemporary. And that’s the downhill part, the part where God and I didn’t talk anymore, the part where I tried to figure it out myself, no consultations needed. I’m pretty smart, after all, he gave me a brain didn’t he?

In the moment of Pause, that moment of Selah was the moment where he moved the furniture a bit to get my attention. He jostled the single seater chair around and said “What happened to Us?” And in that moment of Selah, I got it. To be perfectly honest I thought the single seater looked a lot more retro than the big old cumbersome couch. I also thought that maybe I needed to ask God to help me want the couch back for the “Us” part. The part where I talk with him about everything going on, the part where he talks with me, lets me see what he sees.

As I’ve been sitting on the couch chit chatting and listening I realize just how much I’ve missed this companionship. It’s more than that though. It’s more than just chatting with an old friend. It’s almost impossible to put into words. It stirs something deep in me. It’s like that Selah moment when words are not what changed my heart but something living, breathing got a hold of me and the veil slipped to the ground and I could see. I could see the dumb old chair for what it was – lonely, self centered, small. And I could see that big, comfortable couch and all the stories and secrets it had heard, all the moments of quiet, just two sitting together enjoying each other, all the “I love you’s”, and “I’m sorry’s” and “what’s next?”.

And I could see him sitting there, waiting, with a great big smile, “Selah” he says. The living breath of God floods me and revelation starts all over again.

In Pursuit of Passion

2010-07-06T13:38:00.000-07:00

2010 The Year of Love

“As British theologian Alister McGrath warns, the Bible is not primarily a doctrinal sourcebook: "To reduce revelation to principles or concepts is to suppress the element of mystery, holiness and wonder to God's self-disclosure. 'First principles' may enlighten and inform; they do not force us to our knees in reverence and awe, as with Moses at the burning bush, or the disciples in the presence of the risen Christ" (A Passion for Truth).” (taken from Daily Readings – an online devotional)

I’ve been thinking and thinking about this and can’t get it out of my mind. As a matter of fact I think this statement is true and I might possibly agree with it completely except for I’ve been one who has a reduction mentality when it comes to the word of God, perhaps even to the character of God. I have reduced what he says and who he is into my very North American thinking, numbering all the things I think he says in order of what I have determined as important. The rest I am not sure about so I don’t even bother trying to come up with a foggy idea. I just leave it lie somewhere where I hopefully never have to see it again.

But what about the wonder of who God is? What about the awe of what he’s done for me through his son? The bible has got to be more than a book of principles and concepts; I can read a manual if that’s all I’m looking for.

Really, really, I want more. I want to be loved and pursued. I want to love and to pursue. The gaping hole in my heart does little with principles and concepts. Oh, but to be wooed by One who is so powerful, he created the universe; who embodies love itself and sent his one and only son so that I might live near him forever.

The bible reads slightly different when I look at it as a pursuit of love, to be won over and in the arms of my Lover for all eternity. The bible reads slightly different when I see the angel-armies of the Most High take on the devil and his minions because God himself cannot bear the thought of losing even one of his beloved. There is passion here, a passion so great that it drives the heart of God to come along side us, to shelter us, give us courage and strength, not sit back idly and watch the action. God himself is engaged. God himself is fighting.

Don’t ever forget that.

Don’t ever forget the passion with which God pours himself into your life.
If I can fathom the love of God for me, I have missed the passion, I have missed the heart of God for this love is so great that it is not even comprehensible. I cannot even imagine the force of which He loves me. It is the same force that defeated the devil, that defeated death for all eternity. It is the same force that created the universe, and sent someone to take my place.

Wisdom of a 6 year old

2010-06-21T06:20:00.000-07:00

2010 The Year of Love

Tassie: So God loves everybody right Mommy?

Me: Yup, everybody

Tassie: Even if they don’t love Him?

Me: Even if they don’t love Him.

Tassie: Even when I’m mad?

Me: Even when you’re mad.

Tassie: God never stops lovin’ does He mommy?

Me: Nope, never.

Tassie: I love Him too, up to the sky.

Me: Me too, honey. It’s the best way.

Tassie: He’s just lovin’ and lovin’ and lovin’. Forever.

Me: Forever

Tassie: I think He’s just awesome. You think He’s listen’ to us talk?

Me: Yup, I do.

A Heart for Achille

2010-06-11T12:58:00.000-07:00

2010 The Year of Love
“The godly are like trees that bear life-giving fruit, and those who save lives are wise.” Proverbs 11:30

These last couple of weeks I’ve been teaching English to newcomers – folks from all over the world. I’ve loved every minute of it. I feel like I’m home when I am with these people. Their stories rivet me. They come from a vast variety of countries with so many different experiences but the one experience that seems to be common with most of these people is their experience with poverty. So when the conversation turned towards the poor the other day I sat up and listened to what they had to say.

There were many different countries represented in this class – Brazil, Costa Rica, Korea, Ukraine, Kazakhstan, Russia, Germany, another country that I cannot spell. And all of them except the ones from Germany, talked about how poverty was affecting their country, their people, their children. Of course I ended up like a blubbering fool in front of all these people I didn’t really know, but I just couldn’t help it – so many people with so little. I went home that day and looked around at all the stuff, loads and loads of stuff and I wondered to myself what it would be like to have none of that stuff. What if it was gone? What if I had nothing? Nothing to wear, nothing to live in, nothing to eat. What if I could not feed my child today or tomorrow? What if there was no job to be had and no food to be found? What if I could not pay my $30 a month rent and had to live on the streets with my kids?

This past week a friend of mine sent me a video. She prefaced it nicely by telling me that she had really thought twice about sending it to me. She didn’t want to upset me, the pictures were difficult to look at she said. There were of a village close to (if not exactly) where my youngest daughters were from, in Africa. And as I scrolled through the photos a lump grew in my chest, tears threatened to spill down my cheeks. I wanted to walk away but I had to see. I had to see what my little girls would have faced every day until the day we picked them up.

There is no part of my brain that can understand how someone can survive through such hell. I have no place to put those pictures in my mind that I can lock away and forget. Forget that poverty has affected my family as well. It happened to my children, they could have lost their lives to it and I could do nothing about it while they were there.

Sometimes, when I think about poverty in a detached kind of way, I can tell myself that there are many others who are doing something about it. My few dollars, or time means nothing. But when I flip through pictures of when the girls first came home I wonder who am I fooling? Stick skinny legs and arms, swollen bellies that we ignorant westerns called chubby remind me that poverty is my battle to fight as well.

When they ask me if their family will still be alive when they get to go visit I don’t know how to answer. I want to tell them it will all be just fine. I want to tell them that of course there is enough food and clean water, enough medical attention for everyone. Don’t worry sweetheart, it will all be okay. And then I have to wonder what I’ve done to make it better for someone else today.

Today I received an email from Compassion asking me to blog about a little boy named Achille. Today I thought I’d like to do something to make Achille’s day - his future - just a little bit brighter. Achille is 8 years old and has a heart defect. He has been in pain for 5 years and hasn’t been able to go to school regularly.

Compassion has been providing him with medical care for the past two years at a hospital in Burkina Faso. Now doctors believe his condition requires urgent heart surgery. Unfortunately the hospital in Burkina Faso doesn’t have the ability to perform such a surgery. Achille will be transported to a hospital in India to have this surgery done.

There is a widget in the sidebar where you can donate if you’d like to help Achille. Every little bit counts $5, $10, $100 whatever it is you have to give. Don’t tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that there are others who are more able, who have more resources.

Because it matters. This little boy’s life matters very much.

Good Morning God

2010-06-03T09:01:00.000-07:00

2010 The Year of Love

Psalm 34:1-3
“I will praise the Lord at all times. I will constantly speak his praises. I will boast only in the Lord; let all who are discouraged take heart. Come, Let us tell of the Lord’s greatness; let us exalt his name together.”

Every night when I go to bed I remind myself that my house is indeed in the middle of the prairies. Trees splattered like bits of paint on a prairie checkerboard of grain, flax, canola, corn. A sky so big it touches the ends of the earth with nothing to block the view. Many nights I hear the owl that lives in our trees hooting his haunting hoot, looking for a midnight snack. I often hear a pack of coyotes howling in the distance trying to lure out any creature who might be curious enough to meet its fate. And our cat, stealthy, vicious, killer instincts leaves tiny dead carcasses on our deck for us as a gift of gratitude (I’d prefer roses but I don’t often get gifts) It can be pretty dangerous out there if you’re a mouse, squirrel or small dog, you just never know how your night might go.

The reason I remind myself that my house is on the prairies because in the morning, before I open my eyes I could swear that my little, old farm house has been dropped into the middle of a jungle. I could swear that I hear monkeys chattering, birds of every shape and size chirping. The few trees around my house are full of life, excitement, wonderment for what the day holds. It seems as though every one of the creatures that lives in there is chattering about what is instore for today. I think that maybe they are shouting hello to their neighbours, maybe they are shouting hello to God. Maybe they are so grateful that the sun has risen and they have had the chance to view it with their own eyes. “Another day!” the squirrel chatters excitedly, “we get to see another day!” having no idea what is waiting for them. Then I hear the wind begin to whisper through the leaves and the trees join in, waving their long arms in praise.

It’s so hard not to join in when everybody’s doing it. I just have to throw my arms up, wave them around and shout “Good morning God!”

I wonder what’s instore for today?

You Go Girl!

2010-05-25T07:00:00.000-07:00

For the past two weeks I have been thinking about hiding. Not myself, but things I hide in my life. The other day I was mowing our lawn - 4 acres with a push mower. Of course I didn’t do it all, I made the kids do most of it but the bit that I did gave me time to think about hiding. You see when I think about hiding I almost always think about the bad stuff I hide like family issues, my lack of self control, how I never finish what I start (and how embarrassed I am about it!) but as I was snipping up the green stuff all over my yard I began to think about hiding differently. Cutting your lawn with a push mower gives you an entirely new perspective. I had to get into some pretty tight spots, under trees, between bushes to cut to the very edge of my lawn and it was there that I realized that I had never actually seen some of these nooks and crannies on my yard – they had been hidden from me. Not because I was trying to hide them but because I had never gone looking for them. And I thought about life, how many things I have hidden within me, not because I’d been hiding them but because I had been afraid to go looking for them.
As I was muttering under my breath about cutting in these tight spots, having twigs and rocks flung at my legs I thought about how sometimes to find the treasure it is a lot of hard work. It’s not all glory. As a matter of fact very little is a blaze of glory, most of it is rock flinging and twig mulching but the rewards are wonderful!

I stepped back from my cut lawn, grass snipped right down, it looked fresh, clean, kept. It smelt wonderful and I felt like I had really accomplished something.
And that very day I faced some of my fears because I always wondered what had been hiding behind them. I was invited to a festival by some folks from another country AND I WENT, knees knocking the whole way, wondering if they would be there or if I’d be on my own. Oooohhhh, I felt free! I drove a great big old truck, and I do mean big, almost semi sized, down the highway, didn’t cause any accidents. I felt so powerful!

And I learned to drive a tractor. I’d always been scared that I’d till up a kid or ram a building, maybe drive over the dog. But everyone lived! And I did it!
Silly fears that had stopped me from trying. Silly fears that had robbed my life for so long.

Who knows what’s next?

But I do know that God has given me everything I need to face those fears. He standing right there beside me, cheering me on.

I can hear him now “YEAH!!!!!!! You go girl!”

A New Dress

2010-05-11T09:11:00.000-07:00

2010 The Year of Love

The last few days have been rather difficult. I wish I could tell you a funny that happened in the middle of it, sometimes looking back can make it more humours like the bee chasing me or my six year old whom I’ve now dubbed my dragon baby for very obvious reasons. But these last few days have not been funny, there is very little to smile at really. They have been difficult and trying. I wish that I could flap my arms and flail my magic wand about, shout “bibitybobitybo” and have this smashed up pumpkin called life turn into a beautiful horse drawn carriage. I’d give myself a new dress too. I think I deserve one.

I think of all the things I deserve. The list seems very long when I am feeling sorry for myself. I deserve to have a relationship with my parents. I deserve to be treated fairly, equally. I deserve to have an opinion that does not get shot down continuously. I deserve a new wardrobe, I’ve been wearing the same thing for 100 years.

“You deserve so much” I tell myself as I stroke my self pity on the back. “It’s okay, no one knows how much you give, how much you do. You deserve more than this.” I shed a few tears than lift my chin high.

And all I can think is how pathetic I am, pathetic because I am ungrateful. I deserved death and God gave his only son so that I can have life. I deserve my chains, after all I chose them. I’d like to blame someone else for my bad attitudes, my lack of forgiveness, my self-centeredness but really I’m the lucky contestant who picked them.

But God in all his mercy and goodness didn’t give me what I deserved. He gave me eternal life, joy instead of mourning, freedom instead of a life sentence, friendship with Him, Love everlasting, no matter what, no matter how ungrateful I am.
He’s standing there, eagerly waiting for me to look his way instead of coddling my self-pity. And somehow, when I look at all the things he’s offering me, something stirs deep in me and I don’t want the dress I just gave myself. I want what he’s got. I want the beauty, the love, the forgiveness, the joy, and patience. I want that dress instead. It is spectacular, breath taking, shimmers with His very character, diamonds that reflect who He is, cloth without a flaw wraps around me. (Cinderella ain’t got nothin’ on this dress.)

So today, God, I just want to say thanks because all of this is so much more than I deserve. More than I could ever possibly deserve.

Psalm 50:23 He who sacrifices thank offerings honors me, and he prepares the way
so that I may show him [b] the salvation of God."

2010-05-08T11:46:00.000-07:00

Laugh

2010-04-29T13:48:00.000-07:00

2010 The Year Of Love
I have felt God close all day, today. He has been right beside, hovering over me. It feels like the rain falling on my skin, the rain falling on the dry land, refreshing, invigoration, time to grow. I hear God laughing. I see Him smile. I think about the picture He gave me when I was going through a difficult time. Jesus, sitting in the passenger seat of my van. His feet up on the dash board, ankles crossed. He is looking at me as I sit behind the wheel of my blue minivan with a great big smile. He starts to laugh and slaps His knee. He looks at me and keeps laughing. It is a good kind of laugh, a laugh that makes me want to laugh too. I can feel the giggles rise in my belly. He nods His head as if to say “It’s time. Let’s go. It’s gonna be good. There’s an adventure waiting.”

Just felt like someone needed to hear that, hear God laughing, 'cause it's good, time to get moving, something's waiting. If that's you, I'll be praying for you today.

Volleyball and the Lessons I've Learned

2010-04-27T12:28:00.000-07:00

2010 The Year of Love

This weekend I went to watch my daughter play volleyball. This is not any different than any other weekend I’ve had for the past 5 months. But this time I saw something I had never seen before.

First you must know that I am incredibly competitive. I like to win. I like my child to be the best. I do not like mistakes. But I am learning. This volleyball season has been as good for me as it has been for my daughter. I’ve seen some pretty ugly stuff stashed beneath my pleasant demeanour, stuff that I’m not proud of at all, stuff that cuts others down so that I can feel better about me, stuff that expects perfection when I’m not anywhere close to it.

I am watching Michaela play volleyball. The team they are playing are matched quite evenly to us and it is a fight to the finish. I think it is a good game but I hear others talking who think different, who think maybe the girls slept to long, or stayed up to late, or shouldn’t be playing. I hear mothers who are stressed out because maybe their daughters make too many mistakes. I hear parents who think their daughters can’t make any mistakes and all the while I can feel something in the pit of my stomach rolling. I hear the exchanges between parents as one tells the other what a big mistake his daughter has made, she should have done it like this. I listen as a mother mutters under her breath at how awful this is all going and what is this fair play business anyway, she says, we’re here to win. The rolling feeling just gets bigger and I want to scream.

But I don’t. Because too often I am just like that. Criticizing, cutting down, and thinking that my comments are helpful but really they are hurtful.

A lady sits down beside me. She is a grandmother of one of the girls. She is a very lively lady and I enjoy talking with her. She begins to tell me how she came to be at this game. Her husband is very sick, he has been recently diagnosed with brain cancer. They are in the city for treatments, hopefully they will help. But it has been a very difficult last few months, she tells me, he cannot walk much and he used to love to golf which is no longer a possibility. She is thankful that he can still communicate and that he is in not too much pain. She tells me about the life she used to have, before all of this started. She tells me she is scared and tired and feels as though she has aged many years in a few short months.

And then it dawns on me. There is more to life than winning the game. There is more to life than being the best. There is a journey happening here where people feel joy and pain and fear and relief. I saw it all right there, flash before my eyes. I have put too much importance on winning the game at all costs, doesn’t matter if you have to sacrifice a few people, break a few hearts, damage someone’s self esteem.

But it does matter. It matters very much.

I watch this young, 18 year old coach from Michaela’s volleyball team and I’m sure it has been painful for her to lose but she sees something so much bigger here. I am jealous of her; it has not taken her an entire life time to figure out that people are more important than winning, that winning at all costs means that someone may have to sacrifice their heart, their self esteem just so you can hold up a trophy. A trophy will never admire you, or learn anything from you; it will never be a better trophy because of the things you have imparted to it. A trophy will simply tarnish, and be forgotten but the heart of a human will be branded forever.

BUUUZZZZZZZ....................

2010-04-21T12:45:00.000-07:00

2010 The Year Of Love
"For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity but of power, love and self discipline." 2 Timothy 1:7

I am horribly afraid of bees. I have been trained from young to avoid them at all costs. “When you see one run like the wind, fast as you can in the other direction.” I was told or “Scream. Loud. At the top of your lungs. Bees are bad.” And “Never, ever let them get close enough that they might sit on you, if this should happen break into a warrior cry and flail your arms to a fro for this will surely dissuade a bee from coming to close.” And finally “if a bee should ever have the nerve to actually land on or anywhere near you, hit it, beat it, smash it, make sure that it never takes flight again.” This has been the advice past down from generation to generation on my mother’s side in regards to the care and nurture of bees. It is a timeless tradition for us to be seen screaming and flailing madly in our gardens, near our flower pots and especially by blossoming trees.

Well, today as I was out walking, the sun beating down on me, my skin soaking up the warmth I noticed in my shadow a small object that seemed to be fluttering behind me. I told myself to remain calm, the bee would soon fly away after he realized that I was not a fragrant smelling blossom. I moved my arms more vigorous, pumping them a little harder hoping that the extra energy I was exuding would let that bee know that I meant business. I looked at my shadow again. The bee was not getting the message. He seemed to rather enjoy the chase. Each time I looked back he either vanished into thin air or took a seat on my backside where I could not see him. This of course made me all the more nervous. What nerve this bee had to rest on ME while I was beginning to freak out. I decided to take my jacket off and wave it around, like a great big flag, warning the bee that I was much bigger than he but in my shadow I could still see him lurking just behind me, planning his attack.

That is it, I thought to myself, I must be more aggressive. So I began to swing my jacket around my head like a slingshot hoping the bee would get clobbered by my zipper. I knew how painful that would be, I had hit myself in the back of the leg with it in an attempt to knock him down.

But still the bee persisted.

Then, just before full terror gripped my throat, I swear I saw him land on me, right on my shoulder blade where I could not reach him. My heart began to race, my arms started to move faster and to be quite honest I probably could have done a five kilometre run in record time.

I took a second look where he settle down and noticed that it was not a bee at all but a giant wad of loose hair (probably from my ponytail) that had clung to my shirt.

And then it hit me, how often I let fear control my actions. Fear of failure, fear of death, fear of disapproval, fear of the unknown. A good chunk of my invigorating walk was wasted on fear of a tiny bug that wasn’t really even there. I had become distracted with my fear. I noticed nothing around me – not the warm sun, or the birds singing, not my dogs joyously jumping in mud puddles. I did not notice the blue sky or the trees whose branches are beginning to bud. I was consumed with my fear.

It is such a waste of time.

Such a waste of time when God has not given me a spirit of fear, but created me to be bold, created me to be fearless, to be courageous.

Like I always tell my kid, Courage lives in the face of fear.

Smarties, Toenails and Grace

2010-04-12T09:03:00.000-07:00

This morning I was challenged to tell someone about God’s grace. So I thought I’d tell you.

I should really be telling you about my procrastination problems this morning, how long it took me to actually get myself to sit down in front of my computer, how many other things I did before I even got here, avoiding having to think this morning, much less sound somewhat intelligent. But I’m here, with my latte, after I’ve read four chapters of my book, finished the dishes, did a load of laundry, flipped on my favourite music CD (thought this might inspire me) and most importantly painted my toe nails.

Some of you might be thinking that some if not all those tasks are incredibly important. And I would say you are right. Oh so right. No clean underwear at the end of the day might have a few of the residents put out (to say the least), dishes still in the sink at 4:00 p.m. might drive the person in charge of dishes today a little on the crazy side. And not having read four chapters of my book? Well, I just had too. I’m part of a group that is studying it. What would I look like if I showed up without having read it.

But most importantly, I painted my toe nails.

This morning I sent my kids off to school and the very first thing I did was paint my toe nails. I love having my toe nails painted! I picked a wonderful shade of pink – Viva Pink! – to paint them. It is an eye popping kind of shade. The kind of color that people notice – like smartie colours – and every time I look at my toes I feel happy. A giddy kind of silly happy.

When I thought about how happy my smarite coloured toe nails made me, it made me kind of reflective because I thought how something so small and insignificant could change my mood, just like that.

That’s when I thought about God’s great grace.

I thought about how the Grace of God does a whole lot more than change the color of my toes, it changed the color of my life. Grace turned the things that were dark, tragic, sad, black into a beautiful rainbow of colors. Grace brought me out of darkness into His marvellous light, never to be the same, changed forever.

The most amazing thing is that Grace is a gift. There is nothing I can do to pay the price of His great Grace. No matter how good I’ve been, if I’ve given all I have to the poor, think only perfect thoughts about everyone, never get upset, it’s just never enough. I can’t live right enough.

God offers this beautiful gift of Grace to all, everyone. It is not exclusive.
And this gift of Grace is enough. How could I possibly say anything but yes to such an offer. The offer of His perfection for my imperfection, my lack of love for His uncompromising Love. When I can’t He can. When things look difficult, impossible and I have run out of trying, run out of answers He knows what’s best.

If you are a Christian today, you know what I am talking about – this amazing Grace that God has given us. I’m asking you to pray today that others would realize how incredible this Grace is, that they would give their hearts to the King of Kings and experience this Gift that God is holding out to them.

If you’ve never experienced anything like this amazing Grace, this Love that’s always been there waiting for you to realize invite Jesus in to your day today. Ask Him to be friends, He’s just waiting for it, waiting for your yes, waiting to bring colour to your world.

Places I've Met Him

2010-04-07T13:11:00.000-07:00

2010 The Year of Love
"God has given you every moment of your life as a gift." -author unknown

Lately I’ve met Him in all sorts of places. In nature, in relationships, in people, in places. I’ve seen a glimmer of Him, a shadow really, of where He’s been, where He is, what He’s doing in lives, even those who don’t know He’s there.

I talked with an older gentleman who has diabetes, recently having his toe amputated. This man trusts Him unfalteringly, knows Him in deep, deep ways.

I met Him when I watched a couple, old and grey, the woman sick, oh so sick, with only a little time left, love each other passionately, love life together, look deep into each other’s eyes. I saw Him standing there filling them with joy.

I’ve watched Him take a teenage girl, self-esteem battered because of cruel words, and fill her with the forgiveness she needs to keep her chin held high and her heart filled with hope

I’ve seen Him in the angry cries of a five year old at injustices, unfairness. Although the five year old’s view may be slightly tainted, it was a reminder to me the injustices against the less fortunate anger Him

I’ve seen Him change the heart of a little girl who has found it so difficult to love since she left her father and now His love has cracked the pain and she is beginning to love again

I’ve seen Him in the art of a seven year old. Her hands slowly, carefully creating a master piece of a tiny princess. “I’m good at this.” She thinks “I’m really, really good at this.”

I’ve heard Him whisper in the wind as it races across open prairies, blowing off the old, dead chaff, drying the land with its breath

I’ve felt Him in the sunshine that wraps around me in a warm cocoon, making me smile feeling His warm embrace like that

I’ve been amazed by Him when I saw two planets, hanging side by side, like diamonds in the sky

When I look at the spaces between my fingers I’m reminded that His fingers fit perfectly between mine

And right there, on His palm, my name has been carved

Where, in this world, have you met Him?

Faith Like A Child

2010-03-23T06:22:00.000-07:00

2010 The Year of Love
It is your unlimited power to care and to love that can make the biggest difference in the quality of your life." ~Anthony Robbins

The other day my kids and I were waiting in the vehicle for someone when this conversation happened.

“When I grow up I want to live somewhere warm.”

“Yeah, me too. Like Phoenix.” (this is because Phoenix is the only warm spot we have taken them in winter.)

“Yeah, I love Phoenix. Can we move there mom? Please?”

I have to admit, I would love to live there too. Maybe not all year round but winters aren’t so bad.

Then Shadaye, who has been quiet as a mouse through this whole conversation, pipes up. “I’m going to move to Africa.”

To which Michaela responds. “Well, guess I won’t see you ever again. I hate getting needles!” (One only needs to see the list of travel vaccinations to understand where she is coming from.)

Then Shadaye says this, “Well once I fix everything in Africa I’ll move back.”

And we all got really, really quiet.

“What are you going to fix?” I ask her.

“You know mom, get enough food for all the people and water that doesn’t make everyone sick.”

I had a hard time fighting the tears back. Memories of what a fellow said to us before my two youngest daughters came flashed across my mind. He had talked about Moses. How God had brought Moses out of his people only to send him back to set them free. Somehow I felt that this story represented my girls.

I couldn’t really explain to an 8 year old that the problem with nations isn’t simply food and water issues. It is much bigger. Much, much deeper.

But she has a dream. And in some way I feel that it just might be God’s dream. So I gave her the only advice that I could. I told her she should start praying for Africa now and that God will show her, when the time comes, what she needs to do.

And this mother-heart is once again amazed at how God takes the little people in our lives and gives them visions beyond themselves of what He wants us to do in this world. I want this faith – faith like a child – to see beyond the veil, to see what God is doing.

Changing the Grumpys

2010-03-20T10:27:00.000-07:00

Lately one of my kids (I’m doing pretty good this week only one of five) is struggling with his attitude.

Riley has always been a joy. There’s a reason we nicknamed him smiley when he was little. I remember going into the local school to pick something up. Riley was with me. As I turned to leave I called him to follow me “Come on, Smiley, let’s go!” The principal looked at him, he was grinning from ear to ear and said “Looks like the perfect nickname for you. You’ve got a great smile!” And that is my Riley, always smiling, happy, easy going, fun loving, peaceful bundle of joy. When it’s been a long day I call him over and have him sit on my lap and I can just feel the peace flow through my body. (I’m starting to sound like the mother from Robert Munsch’s book “love you forever”! slightly neurotic!)

But lately Riley has been struggling with his ‘tude. Each morning as he heads out to school I call after him to have “the best day ever!” To which he responds “I bet it’s gonna suck.” When he comes home he tells me all the problems of the day, which kids got in fights, how many teachers were upset with them, and, horror of horrors, he only got eighty percent on his math test, he can’t believe he’s done so poor and could I please not get mad at him! Like I’ve ever been upset about the marks he brings home! I think he’s brilliant!

One night I had had enough of the grumpys. I couldn’t take it anymore. The very essence of who he is was being robbed and I had to put a stop to it (or at least try.) So after he unloaded about how awful school was that day, complained about supper and the fact that he had to clean his dishes up I sat the kid down and said....

“That Is ENOUGH! I want my Riley back.”

He just sort of blinked at me.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him just a little. “Where is he, where did he go?”

I could see tears well up in his eyes a bit.

“Riley, you are good enough. You Are Good Enough! Where’s the boy with the grin that reaches from ear to ear? The boy who’s always laughing, who enjoys life? Where’s that boy because I miss him like crazy. That’s the boy I miss and I WANT HIM BACK.”

Riley looked past the mist in his eyes into mine. “Okay,” he said “okay, I’ll try.

And when he woke up the next morning, Riley was back. He was happy. He was excited for school. And when I sent him off and told him to have the best day ever, he said “You bet!” He came home that day and told me about what a fun day he had and who he played with. He still talked about some not so good things that had happened, like a boy that had been bullied really badly. It made him sad, but it didn’t wreck his day! He didn’t complain about supper, still complained about cleaning up his dishes, but his attitude was different, his countenance was bright. Riley was back.

I learned something here. I don’t have to let my feelings run me. You see, I do it to sometimes. I let those nasty grumpys control my day. Somehow I think I deserve to feel a certain way, miserable, like everyone owes me and no one understands me. But feeling that way only makes for an even worse day. It effects relationships, situations, my outlook on life. The thing I need to be doing every morning is telling myself that “today is the best day yet. Full of possibilities that weren’t here yesterday.” Then live like this day will never happen again ‘cause it won’t. I’ve got one shot at today. I might as well live it loud and full. Give it a try. Be joyful, thankful, full of love and patience. Live it loud, I guarantee someone will notice and lives will never be the same!

Canyon

2010-03-16T07:48:00.000-07:00

2010 The Year of Love

Recently I was talking with a friend about marriage, divorce, relationships. It was an interesting conversation that brought up a lot of things deep inside of me and really got me thinking. At the end of the conversation my friend encouraged me with these words “They say the first one hundred years are the toughest, after that it’s a breeze.” I suppose that all depends on who you’ve put your faith in!

As I left that conversation I thought about my own life, my soul really and how life and carved out a canyon. I thought about how some relationships in my life have been extremely toxic and how others have been good. I thought about the canyon of my soul that had widened over the years because of different experiences.

It was at that moment that I found myself standing on the edge of the grand canyon of my soul. And as I look out over the vastness of it, it seemed overwhelmingly huge and deathly quiet. Funny, I thought, I’ve worked hard at filling this huge crevasse in my life. I’ve tried filling the void with approval, with relationships (some good, some not so much). I’ve stored words of affirmation in this giant hole and standing here at the top of the canyon I see none of the things or people that I have tried to fill it with.

And for a moment I felt incredibly alone.

I felt as though I was in a vacuum. No sound, no air. And it really frightened me.
Then I looked again, at the canyon and God spoke to me. I’d been trying to fill it with things, with people that were never meant to fill the void, he told me. He said he was the only one who could possibly fill this gigantic space.

And I could feel air.

The air around me began to move. A rushing wind began to blow in and I could literally feel him begin to fill the space.
He filled it all. Every bit of the canyon was taken up by him. The beautiful part was there was more of him then there was space. He was more than enough for my canyon. Strength filled me, I could breathe again. I was no longer alone.

Loved.

Cherished.

Chosen.

He reminded me, “Never forget, that’s how I feel about you. No matter what. No matter the size of the canyon, I AM bigger still.”

Finding God

2010-03-08T08:15:00.000-08:00

2010 The Year to be Loved and to Love

This weekend I found God again. For so long I’ve felt like I’ve been wandering around, missing Him, not quite sure what to make of our relationship. I’ve heard things about God, bad rumours, that made me wonder. This makes me so sad because my experience with God has never been bad. Never, not once.

But I listened to the rumours anyway and began to doubt. I’m not even sure what I doubted but whatever it was it created this chasm between God and me. I tried to be good enough, really I did. I tried to do all the right things but somehow it just wasn’t working. I was getting discouraged, loosing heart and I wondered if God had up and moved to someplace a little warmer where the people appreciate Him for who he was a little more.

The interesting thing is never in my entire life until a couple of months ago had I ever doubted the love of God. It never crossed my mind to think that I was not loved by Him. I remember sitting in a service several years ago where the pastor asked the question “What do you think God thinks about you?” and my immediate response was “I am loved.” That was all. I didn’t have to work for that love. I didn’t have to try and convince God that I was worthy of love. I just knew that He loved me completely, no strings attached.

All that was challenged a few months ago and it rocked me to my core. I didn’t think I had listened to the rumours. As a matter of fact every time it was suggested that I might have to work for God’s love or that perhaps God would “teach me a lesson” by allowing me to be sick or depressed or some other horrible situation I would get downright angry. This was not the God I knew.

But I suppose, some back door had been opened and something destructive snuck in because the past while I’ve felt myself hanging by a string. And I have to say that I thank God for strings, He never lets go.
Then yesterday happened, we found ourselves in a service that we hadn’t been in for many, many months. And as the worship played, I felt God wash over me, flood me really and I began to weep.

Then God gave me a picture.

I bought this heart necklace a few weeks ago after Valentine ’s Day. There are several words engraved on it but the one that is the boldest is the word Love. God showed me this heart that I wear around my neck, the words that He had engraved on it where “Loved” and “Chosen”.

He also showed me some things in my heart that He wanted me to be free from like perfectionism, being critical. And I gave it to him, it was all I had to offer at the moment and he gladly exchanged it for me.

And my heart has never felt so free.

Not only is this the year of love but it is the year to be loved. Let Him lavish you with his love, fill you completely, overwhelm you with his undying love. A love so great, so free, that it will change your life, your world forever.

Lest We Forget.....

2010-03-03T14:24:00.000-08:00

I just had to post this. It is from Francis Frangipane and I thought it was an awesome reminder that God is moving and we need to continue to pray along side our brothers and sisters in Haiti.

Out of Heartache, Harvest
By Francis Frangipane

Haiti Update and Praise Report

A couple weeks ago we drew our attention to the Haitian Christians. We talked about how, in the days after the Port-au-Prince earthquake, in looking for human interest stories, media reporters actually filmed these Haitians praying and worshiping God. There the Haitians were, singing hymns of praise to God. One clip I saw showed hundreds of Christians in absolute defiance of the surroundings, singing and marching in a field. With uplifted hands, and faces that beamed their trust in God, these Christians demonstrated the power of faith. As best as I could tell, they were mostly unaware of the cameras. Yet, the secular news media had become a virtual stage upon which God showcased the faith of His people. It was powerful.

Like Job who, in spite of his sudden and catastrophic loses, bowed low before God in worship (see Job 1:20), so our Haitian brethren showed the world a similar depth of character. Certainly, their collective heartache and loss were as deep as any in Haiti, yet the anchor of their soul, unmistakably, was Jesus Christ.

We must also add Chile to our prayers and giving. So many there are suffering, and we must pray. Yet, I'm concerned, lest our prayer focus be drained away from Haiti. Will you join me in praying daily for both Haiti and Chile?

Let us continue to give, but also be wise. Let's support Christian aid groups who, even as they minister to the needy, also testify of Jesus Christ. The Bible says to "ask for rain in the time of rain." In other words, we must know the season of divine activity and pray accordingly. Right now, the mercies of God are kindled toward Haiti. Revival and healing are occurring in this island nation. Indeed, even the news media are reporting of conversions:

"Since the earthquake, the country has been spiritually transformed. People from a whole variety of religious backgrounds, including voodoo, one of Haiti's two official religions, are pledging to devote themselves anew to Christianity." (read more)

On February 12, the president of Haiti called for three days of fasting and prayer. Hundreds of thousands gathered to seek God, repent and pray, and reportedly, thousands came to Christ. Among them over 100 converted who had been voodoo priests. For a report see: YouTube - Haiti - "A Call To Fasting & Prayer."

All this is just a beginning, but something genuine is awakening spiritually in Haiti. Let us join in prayer and stay faithful before God. The Lord has set His heart to bless the people of Haiti and restore them to Himself. Even in this time of great heartache, there is coming forth a great harvest.

Wait

2010-03-03T08:38:00.000-08:00

2010 The Year of Love

Sometimes words refuse to be tamed

They leave me breathless from the chase

And so, I am learning

When those moments come

I must simply wait.....

"Life was always a matter of waiting for the right moment to act." ~Paulo Coelho

I Would....

2010-02-09T07:48:00.000-08:00

2010 The Year of Love

"His creation of you combined with His love for you and demonstrated by His work in you makes you of significant value." ~ Josh McDowell

When I think about life when Jesus walked the earth I wonder where I would have fit into that. I think I would have loved him. Passionately. I would have loved how he was his own person and knew his mission and wasn’t willing to compromise. I think I would have loved his fierceness and his deep compassion for those around him. I would have loved his unbending convictions, his blazing eyes, and his gentle touch. I would have loved his honesty, his kindness, his untamedness.

I find myself wishing to be right there, beside him, having him look right into me, knowing everything there is to know about me. I would want to know everything about him, but he would seem like a mystery to me which would make me want to know more. I would follow him, observe him and hope that he would invite me in because I know I would never be complete without being near him. I think I would have been consumed with him, obsessed even. I’d want to follow him where ever he would go.

I’d watch him heal the sick and give new hope to the outcast. I’d see him offer life in desperate situations, watch the lame jump up off the floor. I’d watch the blind see for the very first time the face of t his wild King – Jesus. They’d look right into his eyes and he would smile maybe even break out into laughter because he knew their lives would never be the same.

I’d watch him hold little children, tossing them into the air, giggling and laughing probably telling them a story or two because the kids would get what he is trying to say. I’d watch him take their tiny little hands in his big one and kneel down in the dust and the dirt just to have the child near him.

I would watch all this hoping soon it would be me his eyes would find. Me, who stood in the back of the crowd, quietly watching, loving him with everything I have. I would wait for the moment my eyes caught his and I would feel the exchange of love. The same love I would have seen him give to those around him but different. I would move quietly through the crowd toward him mesmerized. I would feel a rush through my entire being as he placed his hands on my face. And the minute he would breath the words “I love you” I would melt, never to be the same. I would be undone. I would know he meant every word of it. And I would know that I would never know the depth of it. Those three words “I love you” would resound in my spirit everyday for eternity and I would know that he is more than enough for me.

That’s what I want today.

Josie Fast missed it.....

2010-02-04T11:28:00.000-08:00

2010 The Year of Love
Love seeks to make happy rather than to be happy. ~Ralph Connor

So yesterday was Taylor’s sixteenth birthday. I can’t believe it myself. I am a mother of an almost adult. It seems like just yesterday I was there. Anyway, we took him out for his birthday to a little place called Mitzi’s. Mitzi’s is a Chinese restaurant that specializes in the greatest chicken fingers this side of the arctic circle all in the atmosphere of a Swiss chalet. We had a great time, we really did. Tay ate more than humanly possible, smiled like a big, fat old cat after he had polished off two or three entire chickens. We talked and reminisced about the past and how he’s grown so and turned into such a great young man (I’m so proud to be his mother!). But there was one thing that nagged at me all evening, one thing that I can’t get out of my mind....

As we were walking into the restaurant a young girl walked up to me. She couldn’t have been older than 16 herself. She asked me for change. She wasn’t dressed for the weather we have around here. She looked cold. I looked into her eyes and told her unfortunately I didn’t have any change. This was an entirely true statement. If I would have had change I would have given it to her. There was something about her that tugged at me. For a brief moment I thought about inviting her to dinner with us. And then the feeling passed. I was so caught up in my own party I never even thought to voice what had just gone through my head.

It wasn’t until later that I realized what had happened. Earl asked me what the girl had wanted. I told him she had been looking for change and I didn’t have any. He was quiet for a bit. Then he said “We should have invited her to dinner.” I knew it...I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! We had missed an opportunity! AAAAHHHHHH! It made me so mad and disappointed with myself. How could I have just walked by? What was I thinking? Well, I wasn’t thinking about anybody but myself and my own party.

I learned something here; Always, always, always listen for that little voice inside your heart. Never disregard Him because He is saying something very important, very timely. I missed an important opportunity to reach out to someone who really, really needed reaching out too. I don’t want to do that again.

Yesterdy evening I prayed for the mystery girl. I prayed that God would bring someone by who would listen, who would act on His behalf. It was too late for me in this situation but it was not to late for the mystery girl.

God, I'm sorry I missed it. Help me to be a really good listener.

The Homework Fiasco

2010-02-02T07:36:00.000-08:00

2010 The Year of Love

A good father reflects the love of the heavenly father. ~anonymous

Yesterday Taylor had homework. He had mountains of homework which he worked on for a long, long time. He told me he had finished all of it, every last stitch. But this morning when I woke him up he pleaded with me to miss his morning classes. Of course I said “Not on your life.” And as I walked up the stairs it dawned on me; I don’t think he had finished ALL of his homework.

I suppose when I asked him yesterday if he was done ALL his homework he got that confused with all his homework. I can see how that might happen; the words definitely sound the same, look the same and quite possibly they even have the same meaning but to a sixteen year old all and ALL mean something entirely different. So when he asked if he could miss the morning class I realized that we had a miscommunication.

“Of course not” I told him “Get up.”

“Just the morning? I’ve got nothing important” he said.

I’m sure, that depending on the person you ask, nothing important is completely relative. Ask a teacher and you may have an entirely different take on that.
I refused to let him get away with it. It was time for him to take responsibility for his choices and I want him to grow up to be a responsible man. (Actually, I really, really wanted the whole day to myself with no kids interrupting me) So he got up and went to school. I told him I loved him, as he ran out the door and I hoped he had a good day. Really, I do.

I wonder sometimes if God is like that with me. I make a choice that perhaps isn’t the wisest but completely self-serving and I’m okay with it. For the moment. In that moment there are no consequences. I’ll deal with them as they pop up. Then, the morning comes and I realize I don’t have a very good plan for getting myself out of the mess I got myself into.

So I think “maybe God will rescue me, pull me from this mire I’ve got myself into. After all He promised.” So I run to God, “I’m sorry” I say as heartfelt as I can (I even add tears).

He forgives me, he says.

“So could You, maybe, do something about this, um mess?” I ask.
I’ve said I’m sorry, probably even promise to never ever do it again if that will help. And I wonder if God is like a parent at that moment? He’s thinking about my best interest, my character and He knows if He bails me, I’ll be right back here next week waving my unfinished homework in His face.

I wonder if God would look at me with a twinkle and say “School’s on, it’s time to get going.” And force my hand. I must face my consequence head on. I think He might stand there telling me how much he loves me, offering me whatever it is I need to face this mess; courage, peace, patience, humility.
When I think about Taylor and the homework fiasco I want him to learn whatever it is he needs to learn. I don’t enjoy watching him stress out about things, especially completely preventable things. But more than that, I want his character to be strong so that when he’s out there, wading through life he has the ability to make good decisions.

I think that is what God wants from me as well. I think he wants my character strong and my heart wise so that I don’t always have to run to him to bail me out of my self-imposed problems. And I think that is what real love does; encourage someone to be all that they were created to be.

This isn’t the first time Taylor’s done this, and I’m positive it won’t be the last but it gives me hope to know that just because I don’t get it the first time God has patience with me, taking every opportunity to mould me into the person he has created me to be.

2010-01-28T12:19:00.000-08:00

2010 The Year of Love

Never forget that the most powerful force on earth is love. ~Nelson Rockefeller

I pilfered this from someone else and I just had to post it.
Hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

A HANDBOOK FOR……

Health:

1. Drink plenty of water.

2. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a beggar.

3. Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food that is manufactured in plants.

4. Live with the 3 E's -- Energy, Enthusiasm and Empathy.

5. Make time to pray.

6 Play more games.

7. Read more books than you did in 2009.

8. Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day and just think.

9. Sleep for 7 hours.

10. Take a 10-30 minutes’ walk daily. And while you walk, smile.

Personality:

11. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

12. Don't have negative thoughts or things you cannot control...Instead invest your energy in the positive present moment.

13. Don't overdo. Keep your limits.

14. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

15. Don't waste your precious energy on gossip.

16. Dream more while you are awake.

17. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

18. Forget issues of the past. Don't remind your partner of his/her mistakes from the past. That will ruin your present happiness.

19. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone. Don't hate others. Just stay away from them!

20. Make peace with your past so it won't spoil the present.

21. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.

22. Realize that life is a school and you are here to learn. Problems are simply part of the curriculum that appear

and fade away like algebra class, but the lessons you learn will last a lifetime.

23. Smile and laugh more.

24. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree...

Society:

25. Call your family often.

26. Each day give something good to others, even if it is only a laugh.

27. Forgive everyone for everything, but don't forget, just move forward and learn from the experience.

28. Spend time with people over the age of 70 & under the age of 6.

29. Try to make at least three people smile each day.

30. What other people think of you is none of your business.

31. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch.

Life:

32. Do the right thing!

33. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.

34. GOD heals everything.

35. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

36. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

37. The best is yet to come.

38. When you wake up alive in the morning, thank GOD for it.

39. Your inner most self is always happy. So, be happy.

40. Life is a journey...enjoy the ride.

Gerry B. Rosés

I'm Just Wondering.....

2010-01-26T10:25:00.000-08:00

2010 The Year of Love
"Love thy neighbor" is a precept which could transform the world if it were universally practiced. ~Mary McLeod Bethune

Some of you might want to through a bat through the monitor after you read this, others may have a hearty laugh or want to tell me they will be praying for me as I wallow in my delusion and that’s okay, I’ve felt those very same things this past week. But my computer screen is still in tacked, I need a really good laugh and I’ve been praying a lot myself this week so I welcome any of you who are “moved” to join me. But ,you see, I’ve been thinking lately, don’t look so surprised, about what the role of the church is in the world today. I’ve thought, and I’ve thought and it’s brought me to wondering. What is it that we do that sets us apart? That makes us different, that lets others know we are from another land?

Where I’m from we’d say that we give more than any other area in our country. We are philanthropists and we’re proud of it. We give to mission organizations. We give to relief organizations. We give to bible colleges. We give, give, give. I’m really quite proud of it myself. I think we’ve done a stellar job of giving. One boy in my kids school raised over $1500 for Haiti, by himself, in a week’s time. I’m proud of our little local hero, but he is not unusual in our community. The elementary school raised money for shoes for India and came up with a wack load of cash. I love it!

But I’m just wondering, is that enough? Is it enough to dump my $20, $50, $100, $1000 bucks in the offering plate, collection can, or giant water jug? I think it’s a good start but is it enough?

When I wanted to jump on the next plan to Haiti someone told me maybe I should pray about it, after all that is doing something. And I wholeheartedly agree prayer is doing something (just read my last post if you want to see my views on prayer). I believe prayer can move the heavens and earth. I believe prayer is that powerful. But as I watched the HopeforHaiti telethon the one comment that caught my eye as it ran across the bottom of my television screen was the one from a mother who said thank-you to the person who gave her food, sandals and milk for her baby. Did that person pray for her? Quite possibly but it was the action of taking care of her needs in the moment that she was so grateful for.

I’ve pacified myself for too long with thinking that a hand-out and a prayer is all I need to do for those who are in need around me. And I’m just wondering, has the church done that too? I give what I want when I want, even listen to God to give me some sort of “holy” amount. But really, once I’ve dropped it into the plate, I can walk away. I’ve done my part. Finances might be a little tight this week, but, whew, thank God we get paid, yet again, next Friday.

And prayer?! Well I love to pray! I go to a prayer meeting once a month (when I can fit it in) for those around the world who are less fortunate than I. I pray with my kids (when I don’t forget) before bed time and we pray for our sponsor kids from around the globe. And even in those very diligent times in my life, albeit, they do not happen or last very long, I pray for friends going through traumatic circumstances, I pray for my family, I pray for people I don’t even know that have sickness, financial troubles, family issues. But when I get up off my knees, possibly because a child interrupted or the tea kettle was boiling, I go right back to living the way I want to live.

I’m just wondering what life would have looked like if God would have offered us a hand-out and a prayer? What would life be like if God never gave until it hurt, only prayed when he could squish us into his schedule. I’m just wondering how my life might be different if God treated me the same way I treat everyone else?
If we’re Christians isn’t the whole goal to be transformed into the image of Christ? It might take some time, we’re not perfect, but isn’t that what we’re working toward? I’m just wondering.

I’m so grateful that God left us a great example. I’m so glad he gave the world his son, who walked with us, talked with us, suffered for us, died and rose again for us. I’m so glad God LOVED me. I’m so glad He went out of his way to make an appearance here on earth. He didn’t just hand me a couple of bucks, slap me on my back, told me he’d pray for me and send me on my way. No, He came, lived, died, GAVE IT ALL, so that I might live and continue to pay it forward.

I’ll just leave you with this one last thought. My youngest daughter was sitting on my lap one evening. We were talking about some kids we heard about in another country who had recently starved to death. I was weeping as I told my girls about it and they were visibly moved as well. My two youngest daughters are from Ethiopia, they know what it means to live without. They know what it means to be so hungry you can’t sleep at night. My youngest daughter looked deep into my eyes and wrapped her little arms around my neck, and with her face so close to mine she said “I’m so glad you came to get me mommy. If you wouldn’t have I would be dead.”

I’m just wondering, have we let God’s love move us so much that we get personally involved in someone else’s life? Where we take the risk of losing something; security, safety, comfort, time, whatever we hold dear. I’m just wondering.

We're waiting.....

2010-01-20T11:36:00.000-08:00

2010 The Year of Love

Love has always been the most important business of my life.
~Henri Beyle

The other day I was driving to the city. I was thinking about the past week’s events, family, church but mostly the earthquake in Haiti. As I was scrolling through the images in my mind that I had seen on the news and on the net God reminded me that just over one year ago He had laid Haiti on my heart. He had asked me to pray.

I remember it so clearly, the passion, pain, realization of what life in Haiti was like. I remember how much I wanted to do something, to make a difference in the lives of the Haitians. I had great plans, I wanted our church to embrace Haiti, to adopted it as a sister nation and begin to pray, support, and ultimately go to Haiti.
It wasn’t long before my passion fizzled, praying happen sporadically and than almost non-existent. I forgot about Haiti. But more importantly I forgot what God had asked me to do. And on that day, as I was driving down the highway God reminded me of what He had asked me to do.

I have to say that disappointment is far too light of a word to express what I was feeling inside myself. I wept. I asked for forgiveness for loving my life to much, for being more concerned with myself and the fact that no one jumped on my bandwagon for Haiti. God told me it was okay, there is always forgiveness. And the bandwagon? Well that was the bandwagon He gave me. I needed to ride it no matter who jumped on it or not. It wasn’t for me to decide.

I wonder to myself, how many times have I done this? Forgotten, conveniently about God’s assignment. Let life slide a little. Sure I’ve done good things this year, helped the homeless, offered encouragement, given things to people in need. And I’m sure God’s good with all that. But I think He might be a bit like my kid’s English teacher, you know, always pointing to the lost or forgotten assignment. I can hear the conversation now:

God: I’m glad you’ve done your other reports but I can’t give you a final grade until you finish ALL your assignments.

Me: But did you see how well I did on the homeless project? I went way above the call of duty on that one.

God: Well, look at that! You did a fabulous job on that one. But I still have a missing grade for your Pray for Haiti project. How’s that one coming along by the way?

Me: Well, uh...you see... I was so wrapped up in the book of Family Issues, that...um...I...haven’t had time yet....to work on that one.

God: Well, just so you know, we’re all waiting on you. All of us, All heaven is waiting. For you. To pray.

Me: Come on God, does it really make that much of a difference? I mean really, I’m not all that good at prayer anyway. Maybe you could give me a makeup assignment and assign that one to a really prayer warrior.

God: You remember that book I gave you to read? It became a best seller. If you check out the last section you’ll see how much your prayers mean, how they work.

Me: You’re not talking about the part where an angel mixes the prayers of God’s people as an offering are you? It sounds so fantastical, mixing incense and prayers, angels throwing things. Heaven.....and ......earth........moving.......

God: My point exactly. What are you waiting for? Get on with it!

So here’s my advice to you – If God asked you to do something, get on with it! He’s waiting, Heaven’s waiting, we're waiting too.

Then another angel with a gold incense burner came and stood at the altar. And a great amount of incense was given to him to mix with the prayers of God’s people as an offering on the gold altar before the throne. 4 The smoke of the incense, mixed with the prayers of God’s holy people, ascended up to God from the altar where the angel had poured them out. 5 Then the angel filled the incense burner with fire from the altar and threw it down upon the earth; and thunder crashed, lightning flashed, and there was a terrible earthquake. Revelation 8:3-5

disclaimer: In no way am I suggesting that prayers or God are responsible for the devastation in Haiti. As I read this verse I believe that our prayers are that powerful in the spiritual sense

Haiti, With Love

2010-01-15T09:08:00.000-08:00

2010 the Year of Love

It is astonishing how little one feels poverty when one loves.
~Edward Bulwer-Lytton

As I look at the pictures of the earthquake in Haiti a lump grows in the bit of my stomach. The faces of the people look so lost, so forlorn. Once again I am moved to tears by human suffering. On the video clip I saw, I watched a woman walk by holding the hand of her daughter. I wondered where they were going. To the local store, the market? Perhaps to work? Maybe school? But right now in Port-au-Prince there is no place to go except the streets. No stores or market to get necessary food or clean water, no places of work, no schools. And no homes. It has all been shattered by an earthquake.

I also watched a video of the moments before the earthquake in Haiti hit. People were driving their cars like any other normal day. Probably to work, to school, home, maybe to visit a relative. And then, in an instant life changed. It didn’t take much longer than that, just an instant, to change everything. I could see the camera start to tremor, then shake violently. The vehicles that were driving on the road came to a screeching halt. People began to flee from their cars, running down the road, an entire building collapses nearby.

In an instant, devastation.

For nights now people have been sleeping on the streets, where it is safer, they say, then the precarious piles of rubble that were once homes, businesses, churches. They have no water, no food, nothing but the clothes on their back. They make their beds beside the dead because in some cases there is no other place to sleep. Gun shots are heard alongside chanting and prayer, dogs bark, people weep.

In an instant, displaced.

It is not that Haiti didn’t have unbelievable poverty and despair before all this happened. Haiti is the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. Most people live in absolute squalor to begin with. Few have enough food to feed themselves and their families, schooling is almost not existent, clean water is difficult to find.

Haiti needed our help long before the earthquake.

Aid workers from around the world are rushing to the country, placing their own lives in danger to help those they do not know. I find this remarkable. I watch them go into places that are unsafe to help people that are unknown. I watch them risk their lives for this, to bring relief to a devastated people. And I am so convicted, I love my life too much. What can I offer to these people?

I think about the moment I received the email to write about this catastrophic event from Compassion International. I looked at the assignment and thought “What will I say? I am speechless? The devastation is too much. It has silenced me.”
Slowly I felt lifted up and decided that at the very least I can tell their story so that someone might hear and act, so that there might be some relief from the pain, the devastation.

Compassion International has been working in Haiti for many years. Currently they have more than 65,000 children sponsored in Haiti. At least a third of them live in the areas that were hardest hit. A little over a year ago I was able to spend some time in the Dominican (who shares the island with Haiti) and saw firsthand the amazing impact Compassion is having on the communities and people in this country. I have no doubt in my mind that the projects of Compassion in Haiti have positively affected the communities and people of Haiti. Compassion does what it says it will do.

My husband and I have donated to Compassion’s relief for Haiti fund. All the funds that Compassion receives will be used immediately to provide for Compassion-assisted children and their families affected by the earthquake.

You can help today and change the lives of the thousands of children and their families that are in desperate need of assistance. Even a small donation can make a difference.

$35 helps provide a relief pack filled with enough food and water to sustain a family for one week.
$75 helps care for their needs for two weeks
$105 helps provide relief packs for two families for two weeks
$210 helps care for two families’ needs
$525 helps provide relief packs to sustain 10 families for two weeks
$1,050 helps care for 10 families’ needs
$1,500 helps rebuild a home
$2,100 helps supply 20 families with basics for three weeks

You can click on the widget on the side of my page to make a donation or go to Compassion.ca for more information. If you are interested in their financial integrity please check out the following link: http://www.compassion.com/about/financial/default.htm

Continue to pray for the people of Haiti that God would rebuild the ruins and set them on a firm foundation of His truth and Love.

Learning to Love

2010-01-11T13:57:00.000-08:00

“The Love we give away is the only Love we keep.”
~Elbert Hubbard

Before this year started I told my family that 2010 was the year of Love. My oldest son looked at me and said just so I knew that he was going to be annoyed with me every time I would remind him about it. I smiled and said that I knew he would be annoyed, I also knew that it would change his life forever.

Later that week we had our first experience to look beyond ourselves and help fill another family’s needs. We gathered together the things that we were told they were looking for. Everyone was so excited to pitch in a give something.

Then it was time to take it over there.

And guess who was going to be my great, big helper for the day...that’s right Taylor my oldest, biggest and strongest son.

I told him I needed help carrying the stuff in, there were too many bags and me, not being an octopus, could use an extra arm or two.
He refused. I insisted with a motherly type of insistence. He agreed and carried the bag when we got there.

Taylor was so bashful and sheepish and for an instant I realized that I had not given my kids enough opportunity to love beyond themselves, to which I made a mental note – stop looking at my own needs and start looking at others.

But he did it, we did it. We carried those big bags of useful things in, plunked them on the floor told them to have at ‘er, take whatever you need or want. And you know what? It felt real good to offer what we had to those folks. We talked for a few minutes with them, listened to their story, told them we would pray for them because the situation sounded challenging and then we went on our very, merry way.

But the best part was this....

As we are walking out, towards our vehicle I hear my big, strong, way to cool son say “I think I might have some stuff that might fit that fellow.”

Right then and there I knew something was changing in his great big old heart.

What Will You Do?

2009-12-28T09:07:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I received an email from a friend. It was a call to pray for the Christians of Iran and Afghanistan. This fellow along with another man have been active in working with the church in these countries where being a Christian can be difficult to say the least. The email informed me of the torture and starvation that was happening. Leaders were being captured and tortured. Many of the main leaders of the local church in Iran had been captured. The few that escaped had gone into hiding. In Afghanistan many people had starved mostly children. My heart felt heavy. I wept. What could I do to make a difference for these people? Inside I was distraught and restless. I prayed. It was all I knew to do.

It is bedtime for my little girls and I still feel torn up inside. It is time for prayers and when I ask them what we should pray for they both shrug their shoulders. “I don’t know” they look at me with smiles. They don’t have a care in the world. No one is hunting them tonight nor their mom or dad. Their bellies are full. Life is good indeed. I tell them about the children that have starved recently in a far off country called Afghanistan. These children didn’t have any food. Their moms and dads must be very, very sad.

“What will you do?” asked my older daughter Shadaye.

“What do you mean?” I said.

“Will you go and take care of them?” she asked. I had the feeling that she fully expected me to jump on a plane tomorrow and do just that.

“I don’t think so.” I said

“If you don’t go, mom, who will take care of them? Who will bring them food?”

Everything inside me shook. I told them about our friend who knows these people and is sending money to try and help.

“We could send them our Christmas presents, maybe a doll to play with.” She responded

Then my littlest one, Tassani, pipes up “Mommy, if you didn’t come to get me from Africa I would be dead.”

And it’s true both my youngest girls know what it is like to have no food. They know what it’s like to go to bed with an ache so deep in their belly knowing that tomorrow it will not be filled. They know the ache of starvation.
Tassani wraps her arms around my neck. “I am so glad you came to get me. I am so glad I’m not dead. I am so glad I can be with you.”
I hold her tight and weep. “I am so glad too.” I tell them both.
“What will we do?” Shadaye asks again.

I tell her that maybe we can send so money for the kids. They both shout yes, they have Christmas money and they would like to give some of that for the kids who have no food. They run and tell their older siblings that there are starving children in the world and maybe they could give some of their Christmas money to help them have food. As the story is told to each of the kids they decide that, yes indeed, it is the least they can do.

Shadaye and Tassani run back to where I am sitting satisfied with their fund raising efforts for the children in Afghanistan. I ask them who would like to pray. They both shoot their hands up into the air. “I do.” They both shout and then they pray.

And after all this my mind is still stuck on the question Shadaye asked me “What will you do?” I go to bed thinking about this question, I wake up still thinking about this question “What will I do?” Is there more for me to do? Is God requiring more from me then my finances? Because, quite honestly that is the easiest thing to give. Does God require that I risk my life to save another? I think about all this as I sit in my comfortable home, eating food that I have just recently purchased, not worried about whether someone will storm through my door because I believe in Jesus Christ and beat, torture or kill me.

What will you do?

The chocolate tart and the man

2009-12-16T06:51:00.000-08:00

The other day we were at Costco, just my hubby and me, enjoying a day together without kids. It was fantastic! To top off our fantastic day Costco’s sample stands had yummy Christmas treats. (I’m really not that cheap!) One stand had delicious looking crab snacks (which I could not try because Earl is allergic to shell fish). Another had hot chocolate but the one that I loved the most was the chocolate tart shells.

As I walked by the table I noticed the lady squirting mountains of foamy white goodness into the shell and adding sweet frozen fruit to it. I knew this would be a treat I could simply not resist. I scooped one up and as I was inspecting the whipping cream I noticed the shell into which it was squirted. The shell was entirely made of chocolate! This was my lucky day. I gobbled it up, freezing my teeth on the frozen fruit, slopping whip cream on my chin then finally took a bite of the chocolate tart. Oooohhhh how yummy. As I was taking a bite Earl walked up to me (he had been investigating some other things) and asked me what I was eating. My mouth was full and savouring each bite. I gave him the thumbs up sign, moaned and pointed to where he could find them. He too slurped out the whipping cream and froze his teeth on the frozen fruit. And then he did the unthinkable – he tossed the shell into the trash can! I stood horrified, what was he thinking? I knew he didn’t like sweets that much, but to toss a perfectly perfect chocolate tart shell to the trash? Well, how dare he not ask me first. He walked up to me commented on how good it was as I popped the last morsel of chocolate tart shell into my mouth.

His eyes got very, very big.

"You can eat that?" He said pointing at my mouth.

"Yeah", I mumbled through a mouth full of chocolate. "It’s chocolate."

"It’s chocolate?" His voice went up an octave. He took a step towards the trash can he had just visited.

"What did you think it was?" I asked him noting that if he were a woman he would have smelled the chocolate long before he saw it.

"I can’t believe I just did that. I can’t believe I just threw that out. Maybe it’s still on the top of the pile. I could fish it out, you stand guard." He was walking quickly now. I knew I’d have to hold him back.

Then it hit me. How many times have I done that with things God has given me? How many times has God given me something and I don’t bother to inspect it further than what I see immediately? Sure I recognize the whip cream and frozen fruit, but what of the rest? It may look unfamiliar, pretty but useless and I simple discard it not realizing what I am about to miss.

And I wonder why I never get to fully experience Him.

I am so thankful that God is a God of grace. That He’s standing there with his tart tray and inviting me to come, taste and see that He is so very good. He never quits, never stops, always offers. Even when I don’t have a clue just how good the goodness is.

Green

2009-12-08T09:32:00.000-08:00

The other day I put on a scarf. Not just any scarf. My favourite scarf.

This scarf was hooked out of the most beautiful shade of green. When I first saw the skein of yarn lying there I knew that it would make the most beautiful scarf ever. It was the shade of moss in spring. Not to bright but not lost among all the other greens either. It’s texture was soft and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was about to craft a thing of beauty.

It took me weeks. The pattern was a simple one. Large zigzags. I wanted it just the right length, long enough to wrap around my neck and hang down both sides. The more I worked on it the more I loved it. But really it was the finishing touches that made this scarf exceptional. I thought for many days about the different edges I could put across the ends of the scarf; scallops, fringes, bobbles but when I decided on dangling pompoms my heart skipped a beat. So I worked an entire two evenings on the pompoms. Winding, cutting, trimming, each pompom had to be identical. Then I began the hanging process. I would hook a chain, each a different length from the other and attached my pompoms to them. The result was amazing. I loved it. I loved that scarf.

That brings me to the day I put the scarf on. I put it on with such care. And, as I wound it around my neck I knew the chance I was taking. And that is what frightened me. You see, I had made an agreement with myself and God that if someone says that they like my scarf I would give it to them. My reason is simple, I want the women who like these scarves to know that they were wonderfully made, knit together and handcrafted for a purpose by God. But this scarf was too precious to me and as I wound it around my neck that day I heard the Holy Spirit say ‘I want you to give it away.’ Ooohhh. I almost took it off right then and there. Then I thought to myself, how useful is a thing of beauty if it never sees the world, if it is held captive in a draw somewhere where no one at all can see it and appreciate it? I would do it, I declared on one condition the woman who tells me she likes it must have green eyes.

Right then and there I knew I had outsmarted God.

I could count on one hand, actually one finger how many people I knew with green eyes and I hadn’t seen that person in a very long time.

One for me.

So that day as I drove about running my errands, no one said to me how they liked my scarf, no one made even one comment. Until...

I was walking down main street in a different community, leaving a building I rarely frequent, walking slowly because I had my two little girls with me. I often wonder what would have happened that day if I had the change I needed to pay the shoe repair man instead of having to run to a local ATM or if I would have been a little faster without my two little girls doddling beside me. Whatever the case this is how it went down....

I was leaving the building with an ATM, my little girls walked slowly beside me curious about everything around them. Of course I am rushing them along when I hear “Hi Jos.” To which I turn around and see her, the Green-Eyed Beauty. I was taken aback. I said hi as well and we talked for a bit. It was a good talk, an encouraging talk, a talk I knew God had set up because she said things to me that I needed to hear right at that moment, answered questions I had been struggling with. And she didn’t even know. Then as I turned to go, she said to me “I like your scarf.” She said it with a really big grin. I said thanks and took a step to leave and the Holy Spirit said “Give it to her.”

“But it’s my favourite scarf.”

And this, of course was the kicker, the reminder “She has green eyes.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, turned around, she most definitely does.
I slowly unwind the scarf from my neck, and I hand it to her. She tells me she can’t take it. I tell her she must, after all, she has green eyes. And if she only knew the story...

I hope that she is still enjoying that scarf. And, as she wraps that scarf around her neck this winter I hope that she is reminded that she is wonderfully made, handcrafted by t he Almighty, One True God, with purpose, for such a time as this.
Be Blessed, my Green -Eyed Beauty.

The things I learned from Blanca

2009-11-30T15:33:00.000-08:00

I just spent seven days in glorious sun and wonderful heat. I woke up when I wanted, ate when I wanted, did what I wanted. And in this process of doing what I “wanted”, because God knows I deserve it, I met some very interesting people who put things back in perspective for me, made me think about life from a whole new angle, made me realize things about myself I had never seen before and maybe never really wanted to see.

I’d like to introduce you to Blanca. Blanca works as a beach vendor selling souvenirs to us lucky tourists who sit on the beach in Mazatlan. At first I was extremely annoyed with Blanca and her colleagues, pestering me every two minutes to buy a bracelet, a dress, a Mexican Rolex. “Hey senorita, you wanna dress? I gotta dress for you. Good price.” To which I would reply no less than 50 times a day “No gracis.” I became downright annoyed with these beach peddlers, how dare they interrupt my vacation.

Then, one day, I met Blanca. She was asking me if I would like a nice bracelet or perhaps I wanted a necklace and if none of those appealed to me she could braid my hair. I didn’t want any of her stuff, not the bracelet or the necklace and definitely not the braids. And just as I was about to give my customary “No gracis” I saw a little brown face with shiny black hair peek out from around the backpack Blanca was carrying. His name, I found out, was Fernando. Fernando was 5 years old and one of Blanca’s four children. “He goes to school” she told me “he’s in kindergarten” and I could tell she was so very proud of Fernando. She had no place for him to go after school so he had to follow her around the beach that day.

Fernando was bored, hot, tired, hungry and wanted to go home. Blanca looked at him when he tugged on her shirt with that pleading look. She told him that she needed to make a bit more money before they could go home. His little body slumped forward and he hung his head resigned to his “day at the office”.

I asked Blanca what her husband did for a living. Perhaps he worked in a factory or at one of the many large hotels we could see right from where we were sitting on a glorious beach. “He sells tattoos” was her reply. Henna tattoos; one for five to ten dollars. Then I asked how long it took for her to get home after a day at the beach selling in the heat. One hour, she told me, one hour by bus or 20 minutes by taxi. But taking the taxi is too expensive when you make 150 pesos a week, approximately fifteen Canadian dollars or 12 American.

The next time I saw her I bought her stuff. I paid exactly what she asked for it, didn’t try to work the price down, didn’t try to get a deal out of her, just gave her the money. I know that she won’t make more money because of what I had just done. But I just didn’t know what else to do. I looked at little Fernando and thought about my own children, I thought about my own five year old who spent the first 3 years of her life in desperate poverty. My very own child had lived with nothing.

Blanca’s story was connected to me in some strange way. We are both mothers trying to give our kids a shot at life, wondering how life will turn out for them, will they make the same mistakes we made, will they choose better than we did? Instead of an annoying sales person I saw a woman trying to support her 4 children selling $2.00 bracelets. I saw a woman fighting for the well being of her family. And I saw how I only cared for my comfort, for “me time”, for numero uno.

I’m so glad I listened, so glad I heard.

I've Got a Crush

2009-11-17T12:50:00.000-08:00

It’s true. I hate to admit it but I’ve got a crush on sin.

You see, just the other day I was asking God why it seemed that our relationship had cooled off a bit. That’s when he pointed it out. He said “You’ve got a crush, my love, and it’s not on me”. OOHHH that didn’t feel so good. I hung my head sheepishly. “But...” I protested, “I’ve got reasons. You know, issues.” I whispered giving God the knowing look. He gave me an even better look back, and I swallowed hard.

The more I thought about it the more I realized that it was true. I could recount numerous times where I thought that God had looked the other way while I flirted with my crush. Well, I knew it was bad, of course, but I just couldn’t help myself. You see I have reasons as to why I have a crush. I was brought up in a highly dysfunctional home, they didn’t really want me over there. Oh yes, I have suffered from a wounded heart because of all the verbal abuse I’ve experienced. Did I mention I never really fit in? Didn’t have a lot of friends either, they all thought I was weird. Was bullied extensively, (still can’t stand the guy), and to top it all off I was an ugly child. I’m sure any one of these would constitute a good reason for becoming infatuated with sin. Never mind all of them combined. Quite amazing I’m only slightly messed up.

As I prattled all my extremely well rehearsed excuses to God (even threw in a tear or two, it was really very moving), God just nodded his head, and it seemed that in an instant he was a million miles away, only I don’t think it was Him who moved because with every excuse (and there were some good ones) it seemed that my landscape changed. And, all of the sudden I was really quite alone. Except for my crush, whom I wasn’t very enthusiastic about anymore. It used to make me feel good but now only reminded me that I traded away all joy, freedom, peace, and life away for it’s little withered up, pathetic body.

Then all the sudden God was there again and He told me I was holy because He is holy. I wasn’t feeling it at all at that moment. Then He said to me “Look it, I’ve taken it all.” “I know” I said, “You’ve taken all my sin and shame.” Not feeling much better.

“No, I’ve taken all your sin, shame AND excuses. Gone, taken them all.” He said to me. “There is no reason for you to hang out with your old flame anymore."

“So,” He said, His eyes piercing my soul, “What will you choose? Every time your old crush comes around, and he will, whom will you choose him or Me?”

My old crush gave me a very dapper smile, and for an instant I saw something that made me feel very uncomfortable, squirmish even. I looked at God as His eyes looked way into the depths of my heart and I could feel this unearthly love fill all the spaces. It warmed me from my toes on up. Such gratitude filled me, “Thank you,” I whispered “ for taking it all, even the excuses.”

Love Revolution

2009-11-12T12:10:00.000-08:00

I’ve been hearing the phrase “Love Revolution” a lot lately. And it intrigues me. I’ve always been a big fan of love. I think it’s one of the greatest things you can give. And the more I think about it I believe it’s the only thing that can set anyone free.

I’m not talking about being kind, or loving with selfish “I’ll get what I want if I show love” kind of love. I’m talking about supernatural love, the kind that doesn’t judge others, doesn’t look for faults, forgives all things, has patience without measure. The kind of God-love that Jesus shows me, it never quits, He never gives up on me. He doesn’t beat me down when I’ve made a mistake, He picks me up, shakes me off, points down the right path and says let’s try that again. The tough love that doesn’t let me get away with my ridiculous behaviour, the tough love that loves me so much that refuses to see me left the same, that works tirelessly at giving me every opportunity to choose right and when I don’t doesn’t leave me in a ditch to be eaten by a pack of hyenas. He tells me He loves me too much to leave me like this and if I’m willing so is He.

That’s the kind of love revolution I’m talking about. That’s the kind of love I’m to give out to those around me. Shelf my attitudes, my judgements, my preconceived notions, Jesus said love freely. (Now I realize that I’m simplifying here, but really if we feel someone is taking advantage of our love than maybe we’re not loving them the way God would love them.)

The other day I went into a local store. The owner and I share hello’s and small talk about my family. There was a lull in the conversation, you know, one of those uncomfortable ones where you want to say something but not quite sure what. Only I knew what I was suppose to say or rather ask. I could feel the Holy Spirit speaking to me “Ask about their family.” “I’m sure their family is fine” I countered, None of my business anyway, I muttered under my breath, like the Holy Spirit couldn’t hear me! But the feeling wouldn’t leave me, so finally I blurted one of those blurts, when the conversation is long over and you are trying to keep it going. “And you, what about your family?” The owner’s wife looked at me and began to tell me that just this past week their daughter went away to school, half way around the world. Tears welled up in her eyes and I could see how incredibly hard this was for her mother heart. I fought my tears back, funny, Taylor and I had a conversation just lately about going away to school and I was so not ready for it. But as this woman opened her heart to me I could feel God joining us together. I told her that I would pray for her, her daughter, and her family to which she and her husband replied, “Thank you, Thank you very much.” And I could tell that they meant it, they really, really needed God to come through for them, the pain of separation was too much.

So I prayed. Every day when I would think about this mother and her lonely heart I prayed. I prayed that God would give her peace, that her daughter would find God in ways she had never before, that this separation would strengthen them. I felt so connected to the situation, to this woman.

This past week as I was praying God told me to bring her a scarf. A red scarf. I had recently hooked on up and He told me that was the one. I put it off for a day or two, then I had to make my way over there to pick something up and He reminded me again, “Bring the red scarf.” So I folded it, and tucked it into a bag. And a card to, to let them know, He said. A card too? I thought, could I not just tell her?
“No, a card, she needs to be reminded that you haven’t forgotten, nor have I.”

So I purchased a card, borrowed a pen (because I forgot mine) and wrote a short note to a woman I had only met three times before. When I went to pick up my things from the store, I sheepishly held the bag down by my knees, no need to make a scene. I felt ridiculous, silly even and I’m still not sure way. I asked him how he was and how his wife was doing. She’s fine, he told me. She’s not here with you today, I inquired. “She’ll be coming soon. She’s running a bit behind.”

Then I made up my mind, “just give it to him” I told myself. So ever so shaky I handed my little bag with my homemade scarf in it and told him that I’d been praying for their family and could he please give this small gift to his wife. I wanted her to know that I hadn’t forgotten. His face lit up with the biggest smile ever. “You are so nice.” He said to me, “So very nice.”

“Well, you’re very nice too.” I told him not sure how to respond. “I hope you have a great day.”

And thus continues the story of my scarves and my amazement of how God uses the little things in life to make a difference and this amazing Love Revolution that we’re a part of.

Happy Hooking - a whole new perspective

2009-11-03T13:24:00.000-08:00

It’s been a long time and I am sorry. Life gets crazy around here and sometimes I don’t know if I’m coming or going.

About two weeks ago, right before I took a break from writing on my blog, I watched a youtube vid called “Anguish” by David Wilkerson. It rocked me. It rocked me so bad that I haven’t been able to think of anything since then. Top it off with the book I read about Mother Teresa, well, let’s say I’ve had a lot to think about lately.
You see, I’ve been re-evaluating why. Why do I do what I do? It all seems so complicated sometimes, you know. Keeping this Christian life in order, making sure you are fulfilling the tasks set before you, being encouraging, taking time to pray, raising your kids in a Godly home, making your marriage the most dynamic it can be, the list goes on and on. And for each of us it might look different. I get so caught up in the doing of things that I forget the why.

Take crocheting for instance. I know that it is not a particularly godly think, nor is it ungodly. Crocheting is amoral, meaning that it is neither good nor bad. So than why do I do it? I love crocheting. As a matter of fact I love it so much I have tendentious in my thumb from it. I began to think of how I could use a hunk of sheep wool and a metal hook to glorify God. So, every day as I would hook like a maniac I thought of ways I could make a difference using wool. When I would go and purchase more wool I saw several crochet books on the ministry of prayer shawls. On the few yarn websites I subscribe to I would read about people who would crochet for charity; baby booties for newborns, prayer shawls for the elderly, chemo caps for those fighting cancer and something stirred in me. I wasn’t sure what or how yet but as I hooked faster something was growing inside of me.

I had several scarves that I had made stashed in a bag. One day I decided that the first person to tell me they liked my scarf would be the proud recipient of that scarf. I would give it away. I mean really how many scarves can a woman have! (the question need not be answered!) And so that day, as I was wearing my scarf, my friend told me she liked it. I unwrapped it from my neck and handed it to her, told her she could have it. She was surprised! I was thrilled! It felt amazing. I was, well, hooked! So later that week I did it again, this time a friend who have been going through a really hard time, told me she liked my scarf, so I gave it to her. She too was surprised and I was thrilled to be able to give.

I thought to myself this thing is really working well. This past week I had the best experience thus far. I was at an appointment when the receptionist, who I’ve gotten to know a bit because I spend way to much time at that office, says to me “Hey, I like your scarf!” Well, my face lit up like a Christmas tree, she had no clue what she was in for. I began to untangle it from my neck. Here, I said, you can have it. She looked shocked, taken aback as I handed it to her. It’s not really my color, she informs me. No problem, I say to her, what is your color. She tells me that black is more her thing. I’ll have it done by the end of the week, I tell her. Oh, she says and is quiet for a minute, how much will it cost? Nothing, I want to give it to you, I say with a smile.

Two days later I have it finished and bring it to my next appointment. I give it to her and she is genuinely surprised. I show her how to wear it. And she begins to talk about some things that are going on in her life. I think to myself that maybe, just maybe giving her this scarf will bring her a step closer to finding freedom in Jesus. She doesn’t know that I prayed for her and her family as I hooked it.

A friend of mine who also enjoys crocheting and I talked about selling scarves and giving the money to the poor. So if anyone is interested in purchasing one let me know. I’ll post pictures of some that I’ve made with details shortly. Of course, if you see me with a lovely scarf and tell me you like it I may just give it to you.

So here’s to wool and hooks but mostly God for being creative in all things and giving great ideas of how to reach the world in unusual ways.

Sitting Still

2009-10-20T07:46:00.000-07:00

Day Two. Day two of no outside human contact (my own kids don’t count). Day two of being cooped up in my house with the very mess I cleaned up yesterday staring me in the face. Day two with no vehicle to get me to civilization; no morning coffee with my sister, no lunch with my friend, not even a hello from the mail ladies. Day two of alone.

Alone isn’t always bad, as a matter of fact, I think He brought me here. Not that He broke my van, or caged me in my country home, but I’ve heard Him calling my name lately and I’m always giving him excuses as to why I can’t meet right now. I’ll tell Him after I get back from my friend’s house I’ll give Him a minute or two, or first I need to go to the city and pick up a few things but when I get back He’s the first thing on my list. The excuses go on and on and even when I am stuck in my house with absolutely no outside contact I find ways to distract myself. I’m like a kid chasing a butterfly, every where it flits I run after it in amazement totally unaware that the very Being who created the butterfly is standing right there, waiting for me, ready to talk. I become so infatuated with the moment I forget about the One who created the moment is willing to offer all His wisdom to me if I would just sit and listen for that moment.

I find it hard though, this sitting still business. I’m not very good at it. I’m either chasing butterflies or they’re chasing me. Even now as I wonder about what He would say to me this morning I hear the dog scratching at the door and wonder when was the last time he was fed and watered, those rascally children they never do as they are told, all I want is for the dog not to be anorexic and they can’t even feed him the one time a day I ask. How would they like it if I forgot to feed them today? Maybe I should try that, I would not have to make supper, way less dishes, more time to do things I like to do, but one of the kids complained about not having underwear this morning so maybe I should do the laundry, those rascally kids, they never bring up their dirty laundry anyway, so they can do their own stinkin’ laundry. There I go again chasing butterflies, or maybe that mutant one is chasing me. Whatever the case I’m distracted from the One who is waiting for me, the One who is always with me.

So this morning I sit here, alone, but not really because He is always with me. And I think about being still and knowing that He is God. I look around and am in awe of what I see. Even the butterflies seem to be pointing to Him. Be still and know, be still and know, I hear His Spirit whisper to mine. Know Me. Let Me flood your senses. Let Me surround you. Let Me fill you. All of Me I give to you. Be still and know.

The Birthday Surprise

2009-10-16T12:09:00.000-07:00

Tuesday morning I am in my van, driving down my driveway. I am on my way to Winnipeg, my hubby is waiting for me to pick him up. As I sit at the end of my driveway, a black truck is speeding towards me. I think that maybe it is Earl, he has forgotten something so I wait. The blinker goes on the truck, it is turning into my driveway but the truck is unfamiliar. I look again. It is my dad.

Something you need to know about my dad and me. For most of my life, we have hardly had any type of relationship. He’s one of those men who says “I love you” once in your life time, and if anything changes he will let you know. The way he shows his love is not by gifts, or words, or time but by providing. He’s always been like this. I’ve grown accustom to it. He can’t quite figure me out, I can’t quite figure him. And so it’s gone for 38 of the 40 years of my life.

But last New Year’s day something changed, he said that maybe him and I should go for lunch sometime. I must of looked shocked because he never asked me again. But he did drop in for coffee a time or two, just because.

At first it was weird, him interested in my life. He started asking questions about things I was involved in, things I enjoyed doing. I hardly knew how to respond. I had tried many times before to let him into my life, each time I was met with disappointment. This time I was on the receiving end of things not the giving and I didn’t know where to leave myself in all this. He began doing things for me, just here and there, not too often. I probably would have freaked if it would have happened more regularly.

You see, I’ve always wanted to have a father/daughter relationship. You know, one of those you see in the movies, where the dad dotes on the little girl buying her beautiful gifts, going to every ballet recital she’s in, saying the most encouraging things when she’s feeling even a teeny, weenie bit down. But my dad wasn’t like the movies, my dad was like, well, my dad and the day I figured that out I think I was better off. No more crazy expectations he could never fulfill, no more ideals that were unrealistic, just letting dad be dad.

So here we are sitting at the end of my driveway, my dad and I. He says happy birthday to me, (something I can’t recall he’s done in recent history) asks me what my days like. I tell him I’m off to the city. He says Too bad, he wanted to come in for a quick cup of coffee. I am genuinely disappointed, I really am enjoying this spontaneous coffee times with him. I tell him he should come tomorrow. Some friends are coming also to celebrate my birthday, he could join us, the only man amongst a group of cackling women. He declines politely, says he would but he’s got some things up tomorrow. And then he says “ I brought you a gift.” A gift?! My dad has never, ever brought me a gift. My face must of looked like a Christmas tree the way it lit up. “Yup, a gift.” as he reaches over to the other seat. I am so excited, I can’t wipe the dumb grin off my face. He uses two hands to lift it off the seat. “Careful”, he says to me, “It’s a little heavy.” I reach out my hands to take the large package. It is a little chilly to the touch. I move the bag around so I can have a good look inside. And there it is, frozen, white, cellophane wrapped, my birthday chicken. “It’s a chicken” I say still with the dumb smile on my face. “Would you expect anything less?” he asks. (my dad owns a rather large chicken ranch) He has his own big smile on his face. I look from the chicken to him and back again. Never have I received such a unique gift from anyone before, a dozen roses would not have made me happier. It’s the best birthday chicken ever.

Psalm 139 - in my own words

2009-10-05T11:06:00.000-07:00

For a school assignment I was asked to rewrite my favorite bible passage. I chose Psalm 139. This passage has been my favorite for most of my life. I have reread it often over the past 5 years and each time I am amazed at the love and grace of God in my life. He is so very good to me...
___________________________

O Lord, you know all that is within me
You know the depths of my being
And when I wake in the morning, You are there
At night, You stroke my forehead as I fall asleep
You know the paths my spirit walks;
You understand all that is stirring deep within me
Before I ever breathe a word
You turn Your face toward me and you hear it
You surround me; with robes of grace
And pull me close to you with strong arms
I am in awe of You; and could never possibly understand all Your ways

There is no place where You are not; You are everywhere
When life is a party and I feel like dancing, You are my partner
When I’m in the depths of despair,
You come and place your arms around me, and hold me tight
When all I want to do is run away and never be found by you,
You find me, huddled in a corner, out of sight
You sit down beside me and we talk of the future and the places I will walk
Even though the darkness of life scares me, it never scares You
You are not afraid; You dance in the deepest of valleys and on the highest mountains

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Your works are wonderful, I know that full well
My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
Your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me were written in your book
Before one of them came to be. (this stanza quoted from the bible)

I treasure your thoughts of me
They are like diamonds glittering on a sandy beach,
So many wonderful thoughts, I can’t even fathom
My dreams are filled with love-words You whisper to me
And in the morning I can still hear you speaking them over me

O Ancient of Days, stand up and fight on my behalf
Destroy evil; Evil – get away!
They whisper lies and shout wickedness about You!
They tell others that YOU are the cause of evil
My King, I cannot stand all that is against You;
I reject and hate it all! All Your enemies I loathe

O, Elohim, please, look at my heart, I bear it for You alone to see
If there is any evil or even a trace of wickedness in me, destroy it;
Take my hand and guide me in Your eternal way
That we might walk together forever.
_________________________

He is in pursuit of you, no matter where you are in life, what you've experienced. No matter the pain, grief, misunderstandings, God loves you and He wants you near. Your only responsibility is to say "Come Lord Jesus, Come."

This Old House

2009-09-28T17:46:00.000-07:00

Three and a half years ago we bought a house. It was the property really, that attracted us. The house itself was over 50 years old and tiny. The first day we saw it the homeowner was baking apple pie. It smelled wonderful, the house felt quaint. I liked it instantly and thought to myself that living here would be a wonderful experience. As we walked through the house, we noticed different things. Nothing a coat of paint can’t fix, I thought to myself. We talked about some of the temporary renovations we might make at first, nothing major, we’d save that for another year. We went back several more times before we purchased it, each time it felt like we were going to our cabin in the woods. Each time the woman of the house was baking, cooking, concocting something wonderful in her tiny little kitchen.

The last time we went offers were agreed on, papers were signed, we were thrilled. The little house on the prairies was ours. The possession date would be 5 months in the future, just in time for spring. As the date came closer we got more and more excited. We began to plan the renovations we were going to make.

I remember that first day it was officially ours. We had the key in the door, turned it, jiggled the knob a bit and walked in. The smell was overwhelming. Gone was the smell of fresh baking and in it’s place was the smell of wet, mould and rot. As we walked up the stairs we began to see the house as it really was; dilapidated, run down, in desperate disrepair. The window were glued shut and the glass was as thin as paper. The ceiling sagged, the floor creaked, the cupboards hung crooked. Carpets had never been replaced, walls were dented, dinged and scratched. We were surprised. We knew that it was old but we were not prepared for the kinds of renovations we were about to face. We wondered what we had gotten ourselves into.

We decided to ask a few people for advice. We had done this earlier but now that everything was exposed for what it truly was we wondered if the information we would get would be different.

And it was, overwhelmingly we were told to bulldoze it. Start again, build something new. The house just wasn’t worth saving. And the more we pulled things apart in the house, the more this truth was apparent. The ceiling was rotting. The previous homeowner had patched it, never fixing the cause so joists were rotting, ceiling tile was green with mould. The entire roof would need to be replaced. Soon after we began work on the house we realized the entire foundation was cracked. We would need to replace the basement, along with that discovery we found out the entire septic field was beyond salvation and a new one would have to be created. My husband worked tirelessly for months. Each evening he would come home overwhelmed by new discoveries he had made about the house. The news was never good. The only thing that was left of the old house was the four walls and floor, everything else had been ripped out.

As we worked on this old house, I began to get a picture of what God has done in life. No matter how messed up you may be, God is not overwhelmed with what he sees. He takes your old house and he begins to work, giving you a new foundation, ripping out the old, stale, rot, mould. He doesn’t quit until it’s gone because he knows if he leaves even a piece of it in there it will eventually affect the entire house. He begins in one corner and gently, diligently begins to pull things out; the unforgiveness, the bitterness, the pain, the sorrow, the heartache, the anxiousness. He walks into another room of your life and begins to work in there; fear, low self esteem, anger, jealousy . And when he’s all done pulling out the garbage, he begins to recreate the old house. Only this time the house is unrecognizable, but it’s still the same four walls, same floor, still you. He builds, plasters, paints; aware of the smallest details. God begins to move in beautiful, filling each room with treasures you never thought you’d have, and more than you could have imagined. It’s Him not you this time. He’s the one changing you, you don’t have to worry about how you’ll patch that one up or wonder why you still have the old bathtub. He’s the one renovating. He’s the one creating beautiful.

Isaiah 61:3 (New Living Translation)
To all who mourn in Israel,a he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning,festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the LORD has planted for his own glory.

Looking For Beautiful

2009-09-21T07:02:00.000-07:00

I’ve been praying lately, that God would show me his beauty. I’ve been praying this because it seemed to me that I had forgotten to look for it, forgotten that God’s beauty fills the earth. I’ve walked right by it totally and completely oblivious to it. So I prayed. Then I began to look.

First thing I noticed was the beautiful fall colors. As leaves are turning shades of orange, red and gold it astounds me how God dresses creation with his beauty. Breath-taking beauty, eye candy. It seems mysterious. I know how it works scientifically. But why would God go through all that trouble to make leaves beautiful before they fall to the ground. They are dead anyway. But for some reason he has chosen to remind us of his beauty here. But even with this display of beauty I was not satisfied. There seemed to be something more.

Then, one day sitting with my kids before school, reading the bible together, talking about God, praying I was once again aware of beauty. This time the beauty was in the willingness to learn, be attentive to what God was saying. My children wanted him, wanted to know him. What a beautiful thing, to see children seek God’s face. But once again, it seemed to me that God wanted to show me more of his beauty. This was part of it, but he seemed to be taking me on a journey for the search of beauty.

One morning as I was sitting in my chair in my room, an incredible sense of the grace of God overwhelmed me. I was absolutely awestruck with what God had saved me from. I felt tears well up in my eyes as God showed me his grace in my life and I could not help but find this grace a treasure that he was offering me yet again. My heart was filled with gratitude. I could not believe that God would offer me something this beautiful time and again. For the rest of the day all I could do was tell him how thankful I was and how much I loved him. It was truly beautiful and I thought at the moment that this is what I had been looking for, this beautiful grace.

But God showed me more.

Over these days that God was showing me beautiful, I also became more and more aware of atrocities that were happening to girls and women; the sex slave trade, rapes, displacements in wars, women’s hatred for their own bodies, physical abuse, substance abuse, all forms of abuse; and it bothered me deeply. I felt guilty for wanting to see the beauty of God when so many suffered from such horrible things.
It was while I was driving home one evening when I felt God flood me. I can think of no other word than that. He stepped into my thoughts and I could swear I heard him shouting. He was shouting this: “Rise up Women, Rise up! Shake the shackles off, break the chains! Rise up women!”

Tears began to pour down my face. My youngest son looked over and asked what was wrong. I could not even speak. I was so overwhelmed. And then God shouted again; Rise up women, Rise up! Shake the shackles from your feet, break the chains! I want to reveal my beauty in ways the world has never seen. “ (Please understand that I am not saying this as “Thus saith the Lord” but only what I believe God to be speaking to me. So if there are any out there who have any witness about this or more to add please do so.)

It was as though God’s heart was bursting with beauty that he wanted to let out. This mysterious, dangerous, intoxicating beauty that no one has ever experienced, God is looking for a place to pour it out.

So, daughters of the Most High, get ready.

The Parable of the Large Viking Woman and the Apples

2009-09-14T08:07:00.000-07:00

There once lived a large viking woman with long blonde braids and piercing blue eyes and very large breasts. She had been appropriately named the viking woman by her eldest son. One day as he watch her braid her unruly long blonde and curly hair he looked her square in the face and said “You look like a large viking woman” so hence forth from that day, when she wore braids she was known as the large viking woman.

This woman lived on 4.3 acres of land in an old house, sort of like a shoe, except it was renovated to have some of the modern conveniences like toilets, running water, showers, that sort of thing. The large viking woman lived there with 1 husband, 5 children, 2 dogs and a crazy, deranged killer cat. It was a comfortable place. The thatched roof rarely leaked, the fire pit rarely smoked and the wildlife the deranged killer cat killed and brought home was enough to feed the family adequately.

The first year of living in the new place brought many surprises. Not only were there enough pigeons, large rodents and squirrels to feed the family but also a pear tree, a plum tree and 2 lovely apple trees. Being that this family moved in to their cozy little hut late in the year they were oblivious to the wonderful fruits that were available to them and made no effort to harvest them. It was a sad moment as shiny red apples dropped to the ground but the family had never tasted the fruit of these trees and did not know what they were missing so the harvest passed by unnoticed.

The second year the large viking woman was determined that she would indeed get everything she could from the land. When spring arrived she donned her large viking hat and did a walk about the land, searching for edible roots and other items her very large family might snack on. To her amazement she found a variety of foods like rhubarb, and plums, and rhubarb, and raspberries and rhubarb and apples. It was a good year. The harvest was plentiful. Rhubarb was cooked into jam, apples were smashed into juice. The family tasted the goodness of this harvest and enjoyed the fruits of their hard work all year long.

The third year (that would be this one) the large viking woman was busy. Very, very busy. She was busy doing things she really liked to do. She was also busy chasing her 5 viking children around. She was busy making squirrel stew. She was busy making pigeon pie. She was busy drinking tea from raspberry leaves with fellow viking women. And all the while her rhubarb grew larger, her raspberries grew plumper and her apples grew redder. One day one of her little viking children shouted “Hey viking mother, there are apples. May we eat them?” The large viking woman said “Only the red ones dear viking daughter. Or you will have a tummy ache and I shall have to give you some of that awful squirrel juice to cure it.” “Okay, viking mother. I shall do exactly as you say.” What a good viking daughter, the large viking woman thought to herself. As the apples grew redder the viking children began to pick more and more of them throwing them at the 2 dogs who would hide in fear wondering what other things might get lobbed in their general direction. Then the viking children began to mash those squishy red apples into their trampoline (they were a very progressive viking family) using it as a extra large cheese cloth sending the smallest ones under the trampoline to “watch” what would come out.

The days past and the large viking woman thought to herself as she drank her raspberry leaf tea that she should actually pick those red apples. But the feeling soon passed and she was off doing other things she liked to do instead. Weeks past and red shiny apples once again fell to the ground, “I should pick those apples, she thought to herself as she crocheted a lovely new scarf from the sheep that sat next to her. But once again the feeling passed.

Then just 2 days ago the viking father said “Maybe we should pick those apples. The juice was so delicious, so very sweet last year. It would be a shame to let the harvest go to waste.” The large viking woman agreed wholeheartedly; We shall pick them today.

As the viking father was rounding up all the viking children, the large viking woman found some pails to put their large harvest in, for the trees branches were weighted down with the bounty. The harvest looked to be a large one, larger than the year before. As the family scurried to the trees, the first one there shouted out “All the apples, viking mother are split, rotting, they are no longer good.” The large viking woman could hardly believe her ears. “Then go to the next tree, see what that one will bring us” The children scampered off each reaching for a delicious, red apple. Their mouths watering for only two weeks ago they had enjoyed the sweetness of this fruit. First one, then another sunk their two front teeth into the apples they were holding. Then each inturn began to spit, and gag, and wag their tongues. The apples tasted terrible. There would be no harvest this year, there would be no juice to enjoy. The entire harvest had been lost.

Why you may ask? Because one large viking woman did not do her part in bringing in the harvest. She was too busy with other things she enjoyed doing. Things that were good but not profitable to the viking kingdom. And when the large viking woman realized this she was extremely disappointed with herself and wept. How could she be so consumed with her own pleasures that she would miss the harvest?

And just in case you are wondering, this parable is not really about picking apples. It’s about picking people.

Luke 10:2 These were his instructions to them: “The harvest is great, but the workers are few. So pray to the Lord who is in charge of the harvest; ask him to send more workers into his fields

I love you

2009-09-10T08:23:00.000-07:00

Taylor wants a guinea pig. He has down-sized. Last year he wanted a pot belly pig. We told him no. No more pigs in the house, we’ve got enough. But a guinea pig he tells me is much more sociable, cute, cuddly. He may even get two, they get lonely you know, they need a coffee buddy, someone to hang with at the food dish, while he’s at school. Oh and you have to buy the woodchips that are soft, they have very sensitive paws. Besides he would take complete care of them, he would keep them in his room where he could be at their beckon call.

I see several problems here. First, Taylor only feeds Taylor. There might be nothing grosser than an anorexic guinea pig. Well maybe a dead, dehydrated one. Second, on good days I can barely find Taylor’s bedroom floor, never mind throwing a rodent into the mix. Strike the anorexic pig thing, I think there’s nothing grosser than a squished guinea pig especially if I’m the one with it’s guts on my foot. Third, and I think this one is extremely valid, we own a cat. Not just any cat, a cat that thinks she is a killer, who has been known to take down fairly large creatures, and brutally play them to death then leave their entrails smeared across the floor.

I keep reminding him of our other pets, 2 dogs and a cat, who might like some attention occasionally, the odd pat on the head, that sort of thing. But Taylor is convinced. This is what he wants. When I asked him why the conversation went something like this:

But mom, please. Look they’re so cute. Look at their little eyeballs looking back at you. How could you not want one?

Those little eyeballs are all that’s gonna be left if the cat gets a hold of it.

That’s not funny.

But true.

Why Taylor, why do you want one? What would you do with it?

Well, I would love it.

It was at that moment that it hit me. This big six foot 2 inch, 230 pound, hulk of a man-cub is filled with love. I don’t know why I didn’t clue into this sooner. All the “I love you’s” and the “love” tattoo he wants on his arm, the 10 hugs a day he requested at the age of 9 just so that he would feel loved. He’s just bursting with love. So much so that 4 siblings and 2 parents, 2 dogs and a killer cat just aren’t enough for him to express all of it.

And then I thought of God. (and here is where the analogy starts to break up a bit, but I’m sure you’ll see where I’m going here. My intention is not to infer that God is anything like a 15 year old boy.) How filled to overflowing with love He is, so much so that He created you and me. He just couldn’t contain it. He thought of you and said to Himself and all of creation “Oh how I love her.” He knows everything there is to know about you. Unlike the guinea pig, you and I were created in the very image of the Creator himself. He took such joy in creating you, intricately, thoughtfully. He loved you first before you ever had the opportunity to love Him back, He loved you first. His eyes are fixed on you. He is enamoured with you. You have captured his heart. God is absolutely smitten with you. He could not possibly love you more. All His love is towards you. His “I love you’s” never end, He whispers them constantly. He wants to be near you, surrounding you always because God is LOVE.

Dear Jordan

2009-09-06T11:28:00.000-07:00

I wrote this letter for my nephew. He's going through a real hard time. His dad has been in the hospital for two weeks now and Jordan seemed a little down the last time I saw him. So, dear Jordan, when you read this I want you to know that every single thing I've written here was for you. I also want you to know that when I got home from the hospital yesterday I cried...for you, cause I know that sometimes there are some pretty tough things in life no kid should have to go through. But life is never fair, it never has been. That's why we've got God, he's got our back side, looking out for us always, no matter what.

Dear Jordan
Yesterday when I saw you at the hospital and I asked you if you were excited for school and you said not really because you didn’t want to talk about what was happening to your dad. I told you that in grade one Shadaye didn’t want to talk about her adoption or her family in Ethiopia because it made her sad so she told the kids that she didn’t want to talk about it, not to anyone. And I said that I thought it was okay for her and I think it's okay for you to not have to tell your friends all the things that are going on in your life. Sometimes just knowing that your mom knows or your family knows is enough, not everybody needs to hear our stories unless we want to tell them.

And then you told me about your teacher for grade 4, Mrs. H with the glass eyeball and how you were used to things like that because your teacher in grade 3 was missing her pinkie finger and had an eye that would look in a different direction while the other one was looking at you. I thought you went to a very interesting school. Then I told you that maybe you could make a deal with Mrs. H and her glass eyeball that maybe if she would pop her eyeball out for you, you would tell her what’s going on in your life. I said that because I wanted to make you laugh because I know that the last two weeks have been really hard and it really sucks to have your dad in the hospital and not be laughing and joking and taking you to hockey school.

I want you to know that I wanted to tell you more things like God is bigger than the boogie man. I bet you’ve heard that song on Veggie Tales before. Taylor loved it when he was a kid.

Sometimes when there’s really hard things in life it feels really scary and you don’t know what to do. And maybe you wonder when things will ever change because it doesn’t look like it’s changing right now. Then I wanted to tell you about this guy in the bible named David. He used to herd sheep then some guy came around and said that he’d be a king then he killed a giant. But somewhere in the middle of the bible David writes some pretty cool poetry to God. And in some of that poetry David tells God how scared he is, how angry he is and how he wonders if God has forgotten all about him and his life. And then David does something that is like awesome. David starts to remind himself of all the times that God did remember him. And you know what? It was an awful lot of times that God remembered David. As a matter of fact David realized that God had never forgotten about him. And when he realized that, David was so amazed by God and he started to shout praises. Because God never, ever forgets, not once.

I thought maybe you’d like to know that. That God never ever forgets. God hasn’t forgotten you or your dad or your mom, not one single one of you. As a matter of fact, I believe,that God has got a real special plan for your life. I knew it from the first day I met you, the day your mom and dad brought you home from the hospital. I thought to myself that God has a special plan for this boy.

So, dear Jordan, I want to tell you that I am praying for you and your dad and your mom. And even though things look really tough right now, I know that God is bigger than anything in the whole world. And I want to tell you that he’s with you always and he’s heard every single one of your prayers. He never forgets.

Love your Auntie Jos

Josie Fast is Grateful for Life

2009-09-01T09:16:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday. My oldest son plays football and has a great game. There are scouts there, they like what they see. We go to church hear a wonderful message on the Love of God, come home and watch more football. Life is feeling pretty good, relaxing.

9:00p.m. the phone rings, I do not recognize the number and ignore it. It must be one of those telemarketers. They never stop do they? We watch more football. Our team is finally doing well. I decide I will stay up to watch the next game as well. I never do that. It feels good to be a bit reckless.
11:00p.m. the phone rings again. I still do not recognize the number but no telemarketer calls this late so I answer it.

Hello? I say. I hear someone breathing, sort of in gaspy breaths.

Josie? It is my mother-in-law. She is crying. Immediately I am worried. Something terrible must have happened. She tells me between teary gasps that my brother-in-law is in the hospital. It was terrible. His heart. The doctors are not sure exactly. They are trying to stabilize him. She will call back and let us know.

11:30p.m. the phone rings. This time I know who it is and my heart lurches. She is weeping again. My brother-in-law is being rushed to another hospital. There are cardiologists and surgeons waiting for him.

Sunday 3:38 a.m. the phone rings. I wake up with my stomach in my throat. He must have died, I think to myself. When I answer the phone, I hear a whisper. “You need to come now, to the hospital” we are told. He is in surgery, it doesn’t look to good.

We are up and dressed in minutes. It is amazing how one’s brain works when it is tired. My biggest worry is what I will wear to the hospital while a man’s life hangs in the balance. I try to make myself stop but the thoughts just get crazier.
Earl and I get in the van and start to drive. Instantly I feel like I need to pray. I don’t even know how to pray. I think that I should be praying for my brother-in-law, his wife, his child but I can only pray in the Spirit. No thoughts are really forming, I just know I need to pray.

Earl and I talk about how we hate driving this late at night, or maybe early in the morning depending on how you look at it. Whatever it is it is dark outside, and most people are still sleeping or should be. And those who are out driving are most likely intoxicated or rushing to an emergency in a very tired state. And then I notice something. Lights from another vehicle. I think I am to tired but it looks like those lights are coming right at us on the wrong side of the highway. I tell Earl to slow down, that vehicle is on the wrong side of the highway. He is not convinced and continues driving at full speed ahead. I tell him again, Yes they are, they are coming right towards us. We swerve to hit the shoulder, the driver from the other vehicle swerves the same direction. Earl’s reflexes are faster and he swerves the other way. My heart is racing. The other vehicle continues weaving all over the wrong side of the road. She drives like that for another two kilometres then stops at a fork in the road. Earl and I have turned around to follow the car. We need to get the licence plate number, someone could get killed if this is not reported. We park in front of the still vehicle, talking to the 911 dispatcher. We will attempt to get the keys from the driver.

She is a young girl maybe 19. I can see her through the window head laid back on the head rest, eyes closed, sleeping. I walk up to the car and try to open the driver’s door. It is locked. I tap on the window, wondering what kind of drunk she might be when she’s awake. Her eyes open wide as she looks into my face and she presses the accelerator. She has not even put it into park. She is headed straight for our vehicle, Earl is still in it talking with the police. I start to yell for her to stop, unlock the door. She looks at me and listens. I open the door and put the car into park and take the keys out. I ask her what her name is, she tells me willingly. I ask her if she would like to sit in the backseat of her car while we wait for her “ride”. She sluggishly and happily climbs in. She tells me about her pets and how much she loves them, about her recent break up and her family. She is an only child. I listen as she talks. I tell her that I am a mother of 5 children, that her family would have been devastated had she been killed tonight and that God loves her and has a better plan for her life. Then I pray with her. She is a very sweet girl. I like her instantly and I hope that her drivers are suspended. I want to see her live.

She becomes more and more agitated as she figures out that her “ride” is going to be a cop car. She reaches for things in her purse, backseat, glove box and I have visions of knives, guns and broken glass bottles. I wonder to myself how my mother-in-law would take having another of her children in the hospital. The girl settles down. When the cops show up she willingly goes. She knows that she has been very irresponsible. She promises to change her ways but she is drunk and will not remember a thing in the morning.

The police officer wants a statement from us. We tell her that we have a family emergency. We have to get to the hospital. She is gracious and lets us go.

I am grateful for life, grateful that the Holy Spirit prayed through me even when I had no idea what for, grateful for God’s hand of protection on us, grateful that He kept us alert to make good decisions, grateful that my kids still have their parents, grateful that I can breathe another day.

Psalm 118:21-25 (The Message)
Thank you for responding to me; you've truly become my salvation!
The stone the masons discarded as flawed is now the capstone! This is GOD's work. We rub our eyes—we can hardly believe it! This is the very day God acted— let's celebrate and be festive! Salvation now, GOD. Salvation now! Oh yes, GOD—a free and full life!

In my family.....

2009-08-24T08:37:00.000-07:00

Riley had a friend come over not to long ago. His friend is an only child. This, of course, is quite challenging to a child who lives in a herd most of his life. The day started with the friend whining, “How come he can sit there, it’s not fair.” To which I explained the family policy of “Whoever is the oldest child in the house at the moment” rule. It didn’t go over to well. It continued with his friend complaining about not enough personal space (Ha, you came to the wrong house for that!), How could Riley possibly stand his younger sisters, and , “Stop kicking my seat” in a van filled to capacity with 6 kids under the age of 10. To all this Riley smiled demurely. But I could tell things were starting to get to him.

Me, in my infinite wisdom , decided it would be fun to take the kids (and some of their friends ) to the beach. So later that day, me and six children made the trek to a nearby beach all the while in the back seat, I could hear Riley’s friend planning. They would find their own corner of the beach, he told Riley, somewhere where they could be alone and not have to put up with anyone else, especially not Riley’s sisters. There they would be free to rule and reign their own kingdom. I smiled to myself, I was the great ruler in this corner of the world, there was no way that would be happening.

As we pulled into the parking lot and came to a stop, the kids piled out, looking sort of like those mini cars crammed with clowns at the circus. My children followed me to the back of the van and waited patiently while I organized our beach gear. I handed the appropriate bag, toy or cooler to each child. Riley’s friend didn’t even look back as he ran toward the beach. I yelled for him to wait up, he looked slightly bewildered as to why and continues on to find their “spot”, free from wild life, mothers and sisters. (of course I drag all their towels back to where we are sitting and tell them there is only one camp, one head camper (me) and they better get along with everyone.)

The beach is fun. It is finally nice outside and the kids have a blast having water fights, soaking up the rays, building sandcastles. Only a few minor incidences occur; someone pours a bucket of water over Tassaini as she screams at him to leave her alone. He laughs, thinks it’s funny and continues. That is, until I step in; Riley gets smacked on the head with a pail by the same person. Riley weeps for a good ten minutes, his friend shrugs his shoulders and continues to play. All the while I think to myself that I am holding it together pretty good. I have not lost my cool or temper yet. I have not embarrassed my children by yelling at all the belligerent behaviour and rude remarks. I have risen above all that (inside though, I am having quite the conversation with myself) Finally it is time to go. My children complain slightly that we haven’t been there long enough, Aaww, Already? Slowly I get them motivated. We are picking up sand toys, beach towels, garbage and start to pack up. Riley calls his friend over and tells him it is time to leave. The child grabs his hat and t-shirt and starts walking toward the van. Riley with his arms full of beach gear, calls his friend back.

“What?” his friend is annoyed. Riley looks at him, thrusts out his arm and gives the kid a bag to carry.

“In my family, everybody helps.” Riley has the biggest smile ever.

“Oh” his friend looks a little lost, takes the bag and is a bit quieter all the way home.

In my family, everybody helps. That statement stuck with me. Isn’t that the way the body of Christ is suppose to work? Everyone lending a hand? Offering what they have to the rest of God’s family? So often I am like the spoiled “only” child. I think to myself that I don’t need to participate. Some else has got it covered. But really, there is someone waiting for me to buck up and participate.

The family is counting on you. They need what you have. Sure they may be able to do it without you. But that’s not the point, the family functions better when everybody is helping out. Some may have the gift of teaching, preaching, encouragement, hospitality, prophecy, healing. Whatever it is, you owe it to the family of God to use it and participate. ‘Cause in our family everybody helps.

God's Got You On His Heart

2009-08-17T07:48:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I saw a music video by Fresh I.E. called Cristal. It desturbed me. Not because it's bad but because of the content, the reality of what drugs do. You see, I have a family member who is an addict. And I love her dearly. It breaks my heart to see her messed up the way she is. When I see her life, I see no hope. She hasn't made a good choice in a lot of years, and it's killing her. I wrote this piece for myself, trying to understand in some small way the torment that goes on inside of her; the pain she feels, the self hatred that never goes away.
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JUNK

She eyed the young boy across the school grounds. She’d never noticed his face before. He looked to be about 12, but his swagger made him years older. Twelve years old seemed like a life time ago to her. A lot can happen in 8 years. She pulled the sleeves down and tried to cover her thin scared arms. She jammed her fists into her pockets, pushed her stringy hair aside and started walking.

It wasn’t the first time they had met. As she got closer, she wanted to walk the other direction but he recognized her the minute their eyes met. He moved quickly toward her.
“Got it?”
“Yeah” she said, her eyes darting. How had she gotten herself here? “You?”
Both of them looked around to see if anyone was watching. For a split second she remembered her first transaction.
Quietly, quickly it was done. She lit up, took a long drag and held it. Nodding her head, she started to walk again. Her guts wrenched. She hated herself.

The walk wasn’t long. She stepped over the guy laying in front of the old hotel she called home, or whatever it is a person like her called it. “Jerry, you should get yourself cleaned up.” She tried to prop him up against the wall, out of the way, so no one would kick him. He smiled a toothless grin and wiped the vomit from his beard. Red paint like splatters of blood decorated the front door. She walked into the building. It smelled like old garbage and urine. Her nose burned. She ran up the rickety old stairs, two at a time, skipping the broken ones. One flight, then two. She was in pretty good shape considering.

Hiding beneath her hood, she moved quickly down the narrow hall. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. All her “friends” wanted something from her and she was sick of putting out. She was sick of life.

She turned the old glass door knob, gave the beat up door a good push then kicked it behind her. She felt restless like a cat in a cage. She paced the room; back and forth. Four paces one way, four paces back; the size of a prison cell. The floor was littered with bags and broken glass beer bottles. Mirrors and razor blades sat on the table, used syringes and needles from last night’s party still on the counter where someone, probably her, had used them last. She moved the only chair in the room to the window sat down for a moment then stood up. What was she doing? She grabbed the chair and threw it. Another chunk of plaster fell to the floor. She’d better get herself under control the room’s ribs were beginning to show.

Fresh air, just a breath, her head was spinning. She stumbled. She reached for the splintered frame to steady herself. She tried to focus on the only picture in this miserable place, the picture framed by this window. The sky was blue, it had been her favourite color when she was a kid. Now her life held no color at all, accept black, and if she remembered anything from grade school, it was that black wasn’t a color. She made herself focus again. The blue sky, the birds flying; her eyes slowly moved downward. She didn’t want to see the rest of the picture. The top half, the top half was fantasy. All about clear and free.

The bottom half... A colorless brick wall, double hung windows hanging crooked, no screens looking into colorless rooms, colorless lives, narrow, dead end alley, rotting food, a bust up television, beaten with a baseball bat by some gang member who thought he was tough, a 12 year old trick being hustled by some guy in a cheap suit, some kid shooting up with a needle he found in a trash can.

Junk.

The bottom half was reality.

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What I am so very grateful for is the Grace of God. There is no place so deep that God is not deeper still. He is the only hope in a very hopeless situation. For the past 2 weeks God has been bringing my sister to my mind. She's on His heart. For the past 2 weeks I have been praying for her; that God would heal her broken heart, set her free, restore her.

So if any of you are wondering if God has forgotten you or someone you love who seems to be in an impossible place, a place with no out; I'd like you to know that God's got you on his heart. He's thinking about you. He so badly wants you to know that he loves you.

Selah (stop and think about it)

...on Discipline

2009-08-10T09:13:00.000-07:00

I’m trying this new thing out called “Discipline”. I’m sure some of you have heard about it, you might even be pretty good at it, but for me it is something that I’ve had a love/hate relationship for some time.

After sleeping in every morning the first couple of weeks this summer, I decided that I wasn’t getting as much stuff done as I would like. To change that I would have to change something in my routine (or lack of one) and give up something I had been looking forward to for a long time....sleep. Unfortunately, I love sleep far too much but the desire for other things began to over ride my desire to sleep. (I decided that this was most definitely God and he wanted to change me.) So after a few days of psyching myself up for it, I got of early. And it was fantastic! I had time to myself, could read quietly, I even wrote some wonderfully inspiring thing. I was really on to something. Waking up wasn’t too difficult, especially for the reward of alone time. This “discipline” thing was much easier than I thought. I patted myself on the back, feeling like I could take on the world. Lethargy and procrastination were things of the past. A new life a sprung up with in me. I could not believe that it was working this well.

That was week one.

Week two was a bit of a different. I found that I could not wake up quite as easily. Some days I was sleeping in as much as 20 minutes. I tried to console myself, 20 minutes is not too bad, besides, I didn’t sleep to well last night, the dog kept waking me up. And the excuses tumbled on. Every morning I found myself waking up just a little later than the day before. I was slipping back into habits of old. Somehow I need to get control again. It didn’t seem to matter to me how fondly I remembered my alone times, the solitude, and quiet were not enough to provoke me to discipline. What to do? I was at a loss. It seemed to heavenly, God-sanctioned the previous week. What had gone wrong?

Week three turned into downright chaos. Children scratching at my bedroom door; “we’re hungry” they would mew. And I would bellar from deep within the comfort of my cozy bed; “Don’t you know how to feed yourselves?” To which I would storm from my room, like a teenager awakened before noon, throw scraps of bread at them and tell my five year old to grow up, surely she could make herself a peanut butter sandwich. I wasn’t expecting her to make a gourmet meal, you know.

What was happening to me? The first week seemed as though it was God-inspired. With such easy and joy I would float around the house, it seemed as though a piece of heaven had taken up residence in my house. By week three the dragon lady had moved in and breathed fire on every living thing.

I had to do something quick. I had a choice to make. I knew God would not drag me kicking and screaming from my bed no matter how much I begged him to. It was up to me, my decision would change the course of the rest of the summer.

And so, I am happy to announce that today I woke up earlier. I felt incredibly groggy, tired and even a little irritated when I heard tiny feet stomping around before I was ready for it, but I did it. I choose to change a pattern in my life that is keeping me from experiencing what God has for me.

To top it all off, I found this really great verse to encourage myself with (of course I say this tongue in cheek because it has the word "painful" in it and pain is something I am not a fan of at all.)and I remember that great saying that says nothing of any real importance comes free.

Hebrews 12: 11 No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening – it is painful! But afterward there will be a quiet harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.

...On Evangelizing

2009-08-07T07:16:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I returned home from a morning of thrift store shopping to hear the news that there were six new additions to our family. Shadaye and Tassani had captured six tiny frogs, stuffed them all into a little pail and proudly paraded their new pets. Later that day I learned each of their names; Sassy, Cassy, Bassy, Lassy, Biff and Puff. For the life of me I could not tell them apart but the girls knew their pets well and had no trouble. Bassy I was told, is not very nice. She jumps on other frogs heads. What to do?

That evening they were each taken for an evening stroll. Shadaye marched up and down the driveway with a frog perched in her outstretched hand. Tomorrow, she told me, those lucky frogs would experience a bike ride. But today, today they had the privilege of going for a walk with their master. One brave little frog, I believe it was Bassy, decided to make a run for it and took a giant and terrifying leap to the ground. It must of knocked the wind right out of itself because it lay there, completely still. Shadaye thought that maybe Bassy was very tired and needed a nap so she scooped her up placed Bassy on top of the table with legs straight in the air. Bassy was indeed tired, so tired as a matter of fact that she did not move, not for a very long time.

As Bassy was being nursed back to health, the girls decided that possibly their frogs might get hungry so they foraged for some flies, crickets, grass and leaves, threw all of this in the already to stuffed pail and said goodnight to their new friends. That was the end of Day 1.

Day 2
We started the day off with breakfast and a theological discussion on how can God hear all the people in the whole world pray at the same time? It must be pretty noisy (and busy). And it wasn’t very good that Jesus had to die mom. To which I explained the plan of salvation to my 5 year old and told her it was the only way we could truly be friends of God. After the food and conversation were over everyone left the table satisfied; bellies full, minds thinking.

A few moments later I get the news flash from Riley that Shadaye is taking her frogs to church. I suppose our discussion had made a bigger impact than I had thought. Shadaye had decided that her frogs needed to hear about Jesus. She had taken the great commission to a whole new level. She came in quite some time later I asked her how church had gone. Not good, I was informed, Johnny tried to eat them (Johnny is our black lab). Oohh, I think to myself, persecution already. I asked Shaday what she did at church with her frogs; sing songs, tell them about Jesus? No, was her reply. She had decided to do something a bit more culturally relevant. Knowing that frogs love to jump, she loaded her six little ones on to the trampoline for a great time of jumping. She, of course, supervised, showed them some new tricks, and played crack the egg with them. I suggested to her that perhaps it might be dangerous for the frogs to jump on a trampoline. I was greeted with a look of shock and distain from my little girl. Mom, frogs LIKE to jump.

I know absolutely nothing about evangelizing frogs.

But I most definitely learned something here. Sometimes in all my effort of being a good Christian I push people into doing things I think is right, turns out it was just religious anyway or things I think are culturally relevant (turns out it wasn’t what they wanted either) People are looking to be loved, just as they are, to be cared for just as they are. Isn’t that what Jesus did? Come as you are, He says to each of us, my yoke is easy, burden light, there’s peace with me, we’ll work together, come find joy unexplainable, love that is deeper than any ocean. It’s all right here, in Me. I’ve got it covered.

And my job in all this? My joy is simply to point to the face of God.

Hey, I know you

2009-08-03T08:36:00.000-07:00

Jesus sightings are as common as Elvis sightings around here. Once when my youngest son was around five years old he saw Jesus.

Hey Mom, he shouted from the back seat of the 1992 rust bucket Toyota Corolla we were driving, There’s Jesus.

I looked back quickly, I didn’t want to miss that.

There in the taxi, he sat pointing out the window, so excited.

Jesus was wearing a turban and had a giant beard. The man looked very middle eastern. I could see where my son was coming from.

Sorry, sweetheart, that’s not him. I could tell I was deflating his little bubble.
Well, he looks like him, my son said defensively.

Then yesterday, yet another sighting (5 years later). We are at a local festival, everything is antique, old, pioneer. We are standing in the dark, dingy black smith shop.

My youngest daughter pipes up, Hey, there’s Jesus. She points to a man with a long black beard that covers most of his ample chest and a ponytail. I’m thinking biker gang. She sees Jesus. He is giving a demonstration on black smith work. He takes a ball of iron, heats it, hits it and works it into a beautiful cross. I ask my husband to ask Jesus to make me one. He gives me a strange glance.

When he is finished and people begin to clear out of his little wooden shop I hear him say, Hey, I know you.

I turn around to see who he is talking to. I am always so curious. He is saying my husband’s name like he knows him. Of course my husband doesn’t remember him at first, it takes some memory jogging for it to finally click.

My twelve year old comes up to me, Hey mom, Jesus knows dad and he lives in Grunthal. She says it with such a serious face, but I see a glimmer in her eye. Jesus does not live in Grunthal.

Then I think about what she has just said. To be known by Jesus. I wonder what he would say to me? Maybe Jesus would say: I know you like gardens and reading and writing. I know that you hear music everywhere you go. I made you like that. I know that sometimes you sit outside and listen to the wind wondering if you can hear My voice rustling through the leaves. I know that you are not adventurous but wished your were just a bit more so you could go hiking with your husband and actually like it. I know that you love art and travel and culture and wished you could live in a thousand different places and countries and speak every one of their languages. I know that you watch people, figuring them out by the type of shoes they wear. I know that you love to learn, laugh, and live; those were all my ideas. I know that you used to love the party, so I gave you a party all your own (5 kids) and now you like the quiet just a little bit more.

I know that you get frustrated, and sometimes let the dragon lady out although you try really hard to make her behave and then you ask for forgiveness from your husband, your kids, the cat, sometimes the dog. I know that you get hurt and have bad dreams and you don’t know why or where they come from but when you ask Me to come I do. I know that sometimes when you’re all alone you cry and don’t know how or why or when and I stand beside you stroking your soft angel like hair, whisper the Truth in your ear, and I’m amazed at how beautiful I’ve made you.

Hey Josie, I know you.

I Dare You....

2009-07-29T14:00:00.000-07:00

This summer I’ve spent some time dating each of my kids. It’s been remarkable to see them alone, talk about life, laugh together. I’ve loved every minute of every date.

One moment that has stayed with me was a conversation with Taylor. We were in my van driving towards the mall. A very nice car pulled up beside us. Taylor oogled it, fell in love instantly and proceeded to tell me that when he made it to the big leagues, had all the money he could possibly make, he too would own a car like the one he had just given his heart to. He went on to explain in great detail the type of wardrobe he would own, the cigars he would smoke, the wine he would drink. This would all happen in the big beautiful home he would own. None of this conversation thus far had shocked me, him and I have talked about this many times. And many times I sit and listen and tell him that this is really not what life is about.

But this time was different. Something inside me snapped. I felt really sad and then I said something that shocked even me. I told him that he may feel that way right now but one day he would see the truth. And when that day arrived I wanted to be there because that was the day he would be free to live the life he was created for.

There was a holy hush and he gave me a quick glance then stared straight ahead.
The weight of those words made me think. It was as if God has spoken to both of us.

How caught up in the longings of the world have I been? I may not care about the kind of car I drive but perhaps I’m consumed with the way I look, what clothes I wear, what my body looks like, how old I may or may not look. I may think about the kind of job I have or should have or want to have. I spend all this time and energy on things that society says will make me look successful, fulfilled, happy. When will I learn that the purposeful life is not about me at all; that in knowing my purpose I know that I am here to serve those around me, and to add value to every person I come in contact with (after all isn't that what Jesus did?). And when I do that fulfillment floods me like the ocean, peace washes over me like the rain, and I am at rest. There’s no more working towards unattainable goals. Goals, that once you reach them, leave you feeling empty, and unsatisfied wondering what else there is to life.

There is only one life to live and Jesus tells us that if we truly want to live we’ve got to quit hanging on to this life, let go and choose Him because it is at that moment that we experience his true saving power.

Sort of like a free fall into the unseen, ever present arms of God. He's there, don't worry, he'll catch you.

Do it. I double dog dare you.

Matthew 16:25 (New Living Translation)
If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it.

Won't you join me for coffee?

2009-07-27T06:24:00.000-07:00

I’m sitting here, in Tim Horton’s. Earl and I have had many discussions lately of mediocre. He heard recently (on the radio) that Canadians are happy with average, don’t rock the boat, nothing exceptional, nothing to get excited about, just normal. Apparently Tim Horton’s has used this as a marketing strategy – Average cup of coffee for the average Canadian. And it’s worked wonderfully!

Mediocre, average I wonder to myself why it is so hard to break out of that rut. Why do I feel most comfortable here. Something inside squiggles and squawks – You can do better, it tells me. You can do better than mediocre. – but I’ve never been there before. It looks unknown, ominous, dangerous even.

I look over and hear a group of farmers discussing the future of vaccinations. It’s got to move forward, one says, there’s no stopping now. Maybe that’s it, one step in front of the other, even if I have to lift my leg of stone to get it to move.
Well God, I feel stuck. I know I should move ahead, but I procrastinate, slam on the brakes, I’m unsure of what’s coming.

Now I hear the farmers talk about politics, blowing up one country, condemning another. Figuring the world’s problems right over a cup of Timmie’s. Wouldn’t it be nice if all life’s problems could be solved over a cup..?

So God, what will you say to me over this cup of coffee I’m drinking, decaf Latte sweetened because that’s the way I always drink it. What words of life would you breathe into my scattered thinking. Would you breath focus and resolve. Single mindedness, eyes set on life with you? Would you laugh and tell a joke trying to keep it light than look so intently into my eyes, holding my gaze with such convictions I couldn’t help but be convinced? Convinced that it is life this is all about and it’s urgent, get the news out. “It doesn’t matter”, you might say, “what people think or if they listen. You dear daughter and friend are simply the messanger. I’ll take care of the rest. I’ll open up doors, You tell me, into places you never thought possible, transforming lives you may never see. Get up, Get going, don’t stop.”

Maybe You’d be standing on the table now, so passionate with your speech. “Get up, Get going, don’t quit, lives are changing, seeing my glory set them free.” And I would be so mesmerized with you. The fire in Your eyes, the passion in Your voice. I would want it to be part of me. I would beg You for passion like Yours and You would warn me “It comes with a price, you would say to me. I wouldn’t careof course, because I would see the world changing right before my eyes. You getting glory. But I would worry about my pride. It is my weakest pat, which of course you already knew. You would say that is the price. It’s not about you, you see, It’s all about God and his kingdom, freedom and clarity. Be careful, You would warn, there are many traps and pitfalls some that are very painful. Don’t look down just keep your eyes here, and You would point to Your own eyes blazing with fire and life and something I’ve never experienced but want to so badly. Right here, you would hold my chin steady and it would feel like electricity shooting through me but only for a moment.

The cup of coffee is almost empty. It is time to get up and go, to live what He has called me to. Don’t worry, You say, we can to this anytime you need it. Besides I’m always near, never to far, not hard to reach at all. But now, it’s time. Get up, Get going, don’t quit. There are lives depending on it, depending on you to be My hands and feet. Get up, Get going, don’t quit.

That, I would say, is the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had. Mediocre? Not even close. If coffee could be life changing, that one was.

Hope you enjoyed the coffee too. We'll do it again sometime. Enjoyed the company.

Not Forgotten

2009-07-22T08:54:00.000-07:00

April 2008
My friend told me recently that her husband has cancer...again, second time in five years. This news is, of course, devastating. They have decided to try some new ways of dealing with it, not your traditional methods. I cannot imagine being in that situation, not once, never mind twice. As I pray for them, God gives me a verse. I scribble it down on a little piece of paper, along with their names and the date. I pray the verse for a while for him but I am not sure exactly what God is saying through it. Day after day I place the paper in different spots, once in my bible, once in my notebook. Soon, the paper is missing. But it is not a problem because God is going to heal him anyway. He is going to be better soon.

June 2008
He is looking good and feeling even better. As a matter of fact he says that he has never felt so good in his life. From all the research they’ve done this method has a very high cure rate. Some medical doctors even agree that it is the treatment of choice. I keep praying for healing. It looks like it is working. God is so very good.

October 2008
He had a cat-scan appointment. We are all expecting a miracle, for the doctors to say that it is gone, hallelujah, he is healed. But that is not the news that is received. It has grown, they are told. But this is to be expected with this kind of treatment at first. It’s going to work. We believe.

June 2009
My friend tells me that they had to go to the hospital the other day. Her husband, she said had some pain. It is here where they are informed that they need to see a specialist. Something looks suspicious. Within days they have an appointment.

The next time I see her she tells me that the news is not good, not good at all. It has grown. I weep when I hear the news with my dear friend. How can it be? She says. We prayed, we believed. Why? The same question is running through my head. Why? Why is it you can pray so hard, believe so much and still not see the answer? Why? I don’t know, I tell her. I don’t know why. I have no answer for you. I wish I did. I don’t know why sometimes life throws you the nastiest curve ball ever.

She tells me that they will have to start chemo almost immediately. Everyone is devastated by the news. We receive an update after the first week of treatments. It has been exhausting, terrifying, and unfathomable. Their children have never seen their father like this, she has never seen her husband like this; weak, frail, vulnerable.

I remember the paper, the tiny piece of scrap that I wrote on over a year ago. Only problem is I can’t remember what it said. So I begin the hunt. I look through my bible, my notebook, I search my nite table but I cannot find it. I ask God to remind me, after all he’s the one who has given it to me and I’m sure his memory is better than mine, still nothing.

Then one day in a very unspiritual act, I decide to clean my bedroom. The stacks of books and papers on my desk defy gravity. I begin to sort, and lift and clean. And, just as I am lifting a pile of paper, a small scrap floats to the ground, I bend down to pick it up and throw it out when I see their names scratched on to this paper. Beside their name is the date April 2008 and the bible passage. I can’t believe it. I stop cleaning (haven’t finished even as I write this). There it is the paper with the bible passage God gave me for them, 1 year and 3 months later. I am so excited; I grab my laptop and send an email with the verses attached. I read the verses as I type them out, they are of the great power of God, they talk of his strength. When I read it again I see that the entire passage is about God doing spiritual warfare on behalf of his children. I begin to weep because now I see what he is saying, God himself is fighting this battle.

I send the email to my friend and she is as moved as I am by God’s great love, how over a year ago he had thought of her and her husband, how he has gone to war for her family.

God has not forgotten. God has loved them first.

Galatians 2:20(NLT)
My old self has been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. So I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

Super....

2009-07-20T08:40:00.000-07:00

Yester day after noon I went to a party. It was great fun, seeing people I haven’t seen in a long time, some of them I haven’t seen in years.

It is at this party were I met “Super Woman”. You may be thinking “She’s mad!” But I can tell you honestly it was her. She was dressed all in sophisticated black. Someone else I knew was talking with her first so I glided up to the table in my thrift store skirt (I do believe it is now slightly dated) and took a seat beside SW. We talked of all kinds of things; how to save the world; those rotten people at that organization they really think of no one but themselves; how we should start our own organization, it would be so much better.

My friend had to leave so it was just SW and myself.

So what have you been up to, I ask.

Well besides being a mother and wife, she tells me, I’m working full time in a very challenging line of work while I study. I’m working on my Masters at the university you know.

No I did not know. I thought to myself, Wow, how does she keep it together?

Oh yes, I’ve also lost over 60lbs. What do you do? She asked me politely.

I really struggled with the idea of making something up here, like “I have 5 children (couldn’t lie about that one she knows!), I travel the world working with the poor, feeding the hungry, healing the sick. Nothing much. On my days off I study International development. My doctorate, you know. Oh hadn’t you noticed I’ve lost 70lbs.”

I am so very immature.

I write. I tell her in my mouse voice.

Pardon me? She asks straining to hear what I am saying.

Write. I write. I tell her a little louder

Write what? She looks at me through her narrow eyes, suspicious.

Um, I’ve written a few articles for a magazine. I have a blog. I tell her. Oh yes, I’m writing a book.

I catch her staring off into the crowd.

I’m sorry what was that? She says.

I write. I tell her slightly embarrassed to have to repeat the whole boring out line of my life.

Oh, a book? She asks

Yes, a book. I say. Maybe this will impress her more than all the other things, I think to myself.

This conversation was not going well. I was not living up to the standard. For a few moments I found myself wishing my life looked a little more exciting, that God had given me a more impressive mandate. But he hasn’t. He told me to write.
So now I’m feeling a bit sorry for myself, my self esteem has dropped a few notches and I remember the border guard on the way to Grand Forks who laughed at me when I told him I was a stay at home mom. I didn’t think that was funny, he obviously thought it was a joke.

And then I remember Jesus. A man born in Galilee to a teenage mother, out of wed lock. A simple carpenter by trade, no formal education, Pharisees laugh at him as well, his siblings wouldn’t believe at first either. His father – God of the Universe- thought that was the life his son should lead here on earth. Nothing that would give him any earthly credit; no degree, no outstand job, not a great community to come from, hung out with folks most of us would be embarrassed to be seen with, the crooks, thieves, cheats, liars, prostitutes, addicts of his time; parents who suffered the humiliation of pregnancy before marriage, that was the life Jesus lived.
The spectacular thing is that Jesus knew who he was. His job, friends, education, community, background did not define him. He was the Son of God; that is all he needed. He knew what his mandate was here on earth, he knew that God had equipped him for it, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his Father would never fail him. He was content in the mission he had before him.

That is what I want – contentment – my soul to rest because I know that my Father will never fail me and those he calls, he equips. I don’t need to be Super Woman, I need to be me and do whatever God has set before me to do, with joy, no complaints, in contentment.

Home

2009-07-17T06:56:00.000-07:00

What’s that? Shadaye asks me with her beautiful smile dancing across her face.

What? I say.

With my picture? Why do you have those papers with my picture? She wants to know. She is always so very curious. You cannot hide a thing from her.
I knew the question would come up. I had been wondering how the conversation would go.

I’m getting some papers ready. So you can be Canadian. I tell her.
What does that mean? She tilts her head to the side and has a happy, puzzled look on her face.

I try to explain, really I do. But how do you explain to a 7 year old who has only learned English and all it’s connotations in 2 years? Before that she had never even seen paper, never mind a picture of herself. I don’t think she gets what I am trying to say. About citizenship, Canada now being her home.

As I am talking the silly, sweet smile fads from her face, I wonder to myself if I have confused her even more. This does not take much since some days I swear she has blonde roots under all that beautiful black curly hair.

She looks at me. She wants to say something, I can tell. She is very serious.
I ask her what she is thinking.

When I grow up mom, she talks with a very intent look on her face, I’ll still be from Africa, right?

The word “home” comes to mind. You can take the girl out of Africa but you cannot, not ever take Africa out of the girl. And my heart is so sad for her because I have never ever been asked to give up my identity, my citizenship and I cannot imagine how hard it is to let the thing that defines you go.

I tell her that no matter what a piece of paper says, no matter how many forms I fill out, she will always be African. It is who God has made her.
Then I think about my own citizenship, not this earthly one but the Citizenship of the Kingdom of God. If someone would ask me to give that up I could not. It is the one thing that defines me, it makes me who I am, it is in my very essence. And just like Shadaye I find myself longing for home, the kingdom of God, His very presence. I even feel a little edgy sometimes, I just need Him, I need Him so very badly.

Unlike Shadaye, I do not have to cross continents and oceans to get home. The presence of God is around me all the time. But sometimes I think that physical landscape is easier to overcome then the internal landscape that I face. The busyness of life, the distractions, worries, even pleasures can take up space in my heart. Space that is designated for God alone, nothing else can satisfy.
Today I think about going “home”. Not leaving earth, not “flying away” but asking the Holy Spirit to awaken me to his presence as I walk thru out the day.

I just need Him, I need Him so very badly.

Another Place

2009-07-13T09:36:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I went to a birthday party for my dad. 60 years he’s been alive. Shadaye was amazed that anyone could be that old cause 60 is close to 100. We made a special gift for him; 60 mini chocolate bars each tied with a special note glued to a heart. There were silly things like: I like your cows, You don’t smell to bad for a farmer; to more heartfelt things like: I love you, You’re the most best, I love our coffee times together.

While we were eating birthday food (cake is not a really big thing in our family) I asked my sister about some friends of theirs whose son was recently diagnosed with a brain tumour. He’s 17. The doctors have given him 12-18months to live. The tumour is inoperable. It doesn’t look good, she told me. He’s losing his sight, hasn’t been in school since January.

When I got home I sat down beside my sick little boy (Riley has the flu) and began rubbing his head. And I thought about this other mother, what she must be feeling, how many tears she must of shed already, wondering if there is any hope that her child will outlive her. Will he get married and live to 60? Will he have children and grandchildren who will write love notes to him on his birthday? I wept, thinking how impossible it would be to go on with life if my child died before me.

I held Riley really close to me because I could.

And I was so grateful that life doesn’t end here, that I was made for another place. Heaven is my home. If my child would die tomorrow, the blow would be crushing, the weight of it unbearable. My only hope would be this: that I have taught my children about God, his great love and the cross of Christ. We are foreigners in this land, and there is a place that we will one day be together forever without fear of death or pain, sorrow or sickness, celebrating the goodness of God Almighty.

Today I pray for this mother. I pray that God would be her strength, would give her courage, be her peace. I pray that God would whisper his truth to her heart, his unending, undeniable goodness would be made real to her, His Holy Spirit would overshadow her and she would experience the salvation of our Great God. How Great Is Our God. So be it.

God's Rock Concert

2009-07-10T13:45:00.000-07:00

I went to see Hannah Montana: the Movie yesterday. Made me want to be a rock star again. Wasn’t the great shopping; private jet; or limo driver; it was all those adoring fans swooning over every little thing she did. Miley did a fantastic version of a Hoe down, dance and all. The whole place was sliding and gliding, countryfying I could hardly hold still in my seat. My toe got tapping a little too wildly. I only noticed as the guy in front of me looked over his shoulder wondering whose foot was keeping beat on the back of his chair. OOPPs!

As Miley belted out song after song I couldn’t help but walk back in time to when I was around her age wishing that I was a rock star. Singing my lungs out that’s all I ever wanted. Then I turned 20. No one had discovered me yet. At 30 I had the chance to record a song I wrote. Great experience. Still no agents knocking down my door. In 3 months I turn 40, and, you guessed it, my name does not appear on any billboards, magazine covers, record labels. I still love to sing. It’s one of those things that when I do it I know that I was made for it. It feels good, feels like home.

I had the opportunity to work with a woman who was tormented mentally. She suffered from pretty big mental illnesses and sometimes these things would over take her. She would lie in her bed terrified, hiding under her blankets, ranting, screaming. It broke my heart to see her like this. So, one day, I decided that I would go into her room and sing. I was really nervous. (the story of Saul throwing sharp objects at David came to mind.) I just knew I had to. I walked in to the middle of her freaking out and I began to sing. And slowly she began to calm down. I kept singing for quite some time while she settled down and began to sleep. Finally her soul was at peace. It was sometime after that that her and I went for a walk when she said to me that she always felt close to Jesus when I was around and she wasn’t sure why. God whispered in my soul “If she was the only reason I gave you the gift of singing, it would be reason enough.”

And so I sing for an audience of One. It’s all for him, every note, every word. When I open my mouth I’m joining with all creation, the birds, trees, wind, people and worshiping God Almighty for what He’s done. I’m the crazy God-fan, worshipping every little thing he does, cause he does it so much more complete than anyone else can possibly. I want to wear what he wears – love, kindness, patience, justice – I want to do what he does. I’m belting it out, telling the world what He’s done for me, I’ve been rescued, saved, given a new way of life. Who could possibly keep quiet when God shows up? Forget Miley Cyrus, forget the pressure of being a rock star, I’ve only got One to impress, and he’s impressed already, I’ve only got One to promote myself to and he’s promoted me already.

This is what God’s Rock Concert looks like: joining in a great circle(something like a mosh pit?), dancing around God’s alter, singing God songs at the top of our lungs, whistling, laughing, jumping for joy, celebrating forever, raising the roof!

I’ll be there. I’ll be the one holding the sign the reads “God Rocks!” singing at the top of my lungs!

Psalm 26:6 The Message (MSG)
I scrub my hands with purest soap, then join hands with the others in the great circle, dancing around your altar, God, Singing God-songs at the top of my lungs, telling God-stories.

Psalm 9:1The Message (MSG)
[ A David Psalm ] I'm thanking you, God, from a full heart, I'm writing the book on your wonders. I'm whistling, laughing, and jumping for joy; I'm singing your song, High God.

Psalm 13:4-6 The Message (MSG)
I've thrown myself headlong into your arms— I'm celebrating your rescue. I'm singing at the top of my lungs, I'm so full of answered prayers.

Psalm 21:12-13 New Living Translation (NLT)
Rise up, O Lord, in all your power.With music and singing we celebrate your mighty acts.

Psalm 30:12 New Living Translation (NLT)
that I might sing praises to you and not be silent.O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever!

Psalm 32:11 The Message (MSG)
Celebrate God. Sing together—everyone! All you honest hearts, raise the roof!

His Grace Is Enough

2009-07-09T08:48:00.000-07:00

As I was thinking about what to write today, I heard from a friend who is in Israel doing worship and intercession. There are many Muslims and Jews who are coming to Christ and in the last two weeks there have been so many that the churches can't keep up. Muslims are having visions of Jesus as they go into their places of worship.

I have been thinking about the meaning of grace lately. As I've looked at this word more closely I've found that this Amazing grace has the power to transform our lives, to bring salvation to every situation.

According to the dictionary this is what the word Grace means: favour for those who least expect it; forgiven for every last thing; freedom for every one

The bible takes it one step further it tells us that grace is a teacher that teaches us to say No. It empowers us to live a godly life.

Titus 2:11-15 NIV
11For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men. 12It teaches us to say "No" to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, 13while we wait for the blessed hope—the glorious appearing of our great God and Saviour, Jesus Christ, 14who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good.
15These, then, are the things you should teach. Encourage and rebuke with all authority. Do not let anyone despise you.

When I think about the people that are coming to know Christ in Israel, I think about the Amazing Grace of God that is being poured out to those who are looking for it. A grace that not only offers favour with the most High but also empowers them to live Godly lives. A grace that seems over-the-top when it comes to forgiveness and freedom. Grace so great that it's hard for me to get my head around. That's the kind of grace God is offering to every person on this earth; to me, to you, to the drug addict on the street, the prostitute turning her 1000 trick, the thief, liar, cheat, the gossip,alcoholic, abuser. There isn't one of us who doesn't need to know that we are forgiven, that we have found favour with the God himself, that he now views us through the blood of his son Jesus. His grace is enough.

NOW

2009-07-06T08:26:00.000-07:00

Ever wonder what Jesus’ thoughts are on living for him? Check out this passage.

Luke 9:57-62 The Message
On the road someone asked if he could go along. "I'll go with you, wherever," he said.
58Jesus was curt: "Are you ready to rough it? We're not staying in the best inns, you know."
Jesus said to another, "Follow me."
59He said, "Certainly, but first excuse me for a couple of days, please. I have to make arrangements for my father's funeral."
60Jesus refused. "First things first. Your business is life, not death. And life is urgent: Announce God's kingdom!"
61Then another said, "I'm ready to follow you, Master, but first excuse me while I get things straightened out at home."
62Jesus said, "No procrastination. No backward looks. You can't put God's kingdom off till tomorrow. Seize the day."

Puts a whole new perspective on following Jesus doesn’t it. Jesus doesn’t mix words here. He’s curt to one fellow, refuses another’s request and commands another to “Seize the day” for the kingdom of God. No more Mr. Nice Guy, No more “when you’re ready”. The time is NOW.

I’m feeling a little uncomfortable.

Hey Canada, I'll Stand On Guard For You

2009-07-01T10:21:00.000-07:00

As I sit here on Canada’s birthday surrounded by pine trees, prairies that stretch for miles, endless skies I wonder to myself what Canada will look like when my children are my age. Will they still enjoy the freedoms we have? Will they enjoy multiculturalism the way we do now? I wonder what I can do to keep Canada moving into the purpose that God has created for her. What can I do to see this country achieve the plans it was created for? I am reminded about Isaiah 58, where God talks about the kind of fast that is expectable to him and what happens to those who step out and do the things that are on God’s heart. I ask myself “Have are done this lately, have I spoken up for those who are imprisoned for something they never did? Have I worked at getting rid of exploitation in the workplace, freed the oppressed, cancel debts when I have the ability too? Have I shared what I have with the hungry and the homeless, those who have nothing; have I been available to my own family? Have I taken the plunge and put others first really stepping out into this new life of Love God has called me too? Or am I to concerned with myself, my needs, my wants?

Isaiah 58 tells us that if we look out for those around us, those in need, oppressed, trapped, if we do what is close to God’s heart he will show up. The lights will turn on and my life will turn around at once. As a matter of fact if I begin to take care of what’s on God’s heart, God begins to change my life, the lives of those around me. God begins to change my community. If we step out and do these things; feed the hungry, cloth the naked, take care of the poor, set free those who are trapped in a down ward spiral God says our lives will glow, and the world will say “Look at those followers of Christ, they have answers, they can fix anything, even communities are changing, becoming a place of life.”

So Canada that is my pledge to you today, I will become a rebuilder of ruins, a restorer of homes. I will walk where God walks and offer hope and healing, freedom and sustenance to those around me. I will spend more time with my family leaving this legacy of God’s Love with them so that they too will become known as those who can fix anything because of God’s great love.

Will you join me?

(If you’re wondering how you can get started take a look at the Compassion web site on the sidebar. Compassion is an amazing ministry to the poor children of the world. It’s a great step in seeing God move in our nation.)

Isaiah 58:6-12 (NLT)
“No, this is the kind of fasting I want:
Free those who are wrongly imprisoned;
lighten the burden of those who work for you.
Let the oppressed go free,
and remove the chains that bind people.
7 Share your food with the hungry,
and give shelter to the homeless.
Give clothes to those who need them,
and do not hide from relatives who need your help.
8 “Then your salvation will come like the dawn,
and your wounds will quickly heal.
Your godliness will lead you forward,
and the glory of the LORD will protect you from behind.
9 Then when you call, the LORD will answer.
‘Yes, I am here,’ he will quickly reply.
“Remove the heavy yoke of oppression.
Stop pointing your finger and spreading vicious rumors!
10 Feed the hungry,
and help those in trouble.
Then your light will shine out from the darkness,
and the darkness around you will be as bright as noon.
11 The LORD will guide you continually,
giving you water when you are dry
and restoring your strength.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
like an ever-flowing spring.
12 Some of you will rebuild the deserted ruins of your cities.
Then you will be known as a rebuilder of walls
and a restorer of homes.

The Good Life

2009-06-29T09:40:00.000-07:00

January 2006 we bought a little, dumpy house in the country, smaller than the one we had been living in until then which was not big enough. Not big enough at all. The house was 54 years old at the time. Rotting rafters, carpets that predated dinosaurs and walls that were filled with asbestos. The man who built it bragged about never using a level or measuring tape. No joke, we thought. No joke we found out. We spent an entire summer gutting, moving, rearranging, ripping apart, reconstructing, levelling, straightening, measuring until we moved in. We were so excited to finally be living here and a little apprehensive too. The first while it felt strange, we were town folk. This country life was very solitude, lonely. The only creatures we saw walk by were our dogs so we would hang our heads out the windows and shout Hi, how are you? Desperate for some familiarity, someone to talk to. Slowly we became accustom to this new way of life. It had felt a bit daunting at first, even though it was something we had really wanted. Our life styles changed – we did more driving, less walking, more alone time, less talking. So very slowly it began to permeate us, this country life, this simpler life, this life where we were more dependent on each other for friendship, for communication, for laughs. Sure we would talk sometimes, about moving into town but every one of us knew that the grass just looked greener over there and really it was very, very green over here. It’s peaceful, relaxing, beautiful, lovely, wouldn’t trade it for anything. The smell of lilacs warmed in the sun waft over my back deck that faces pine trees so tall you have to look straight up to see the tops of them, willows whispering in the wind, apple blossoms exploding over every square inch of the branches they grow on, wild flower bouquets, bush bunnies running around wild, beautiful birds in every shade and color singing beautiful songs, occasionally we think that perhaps there are a few monkeys swinging in our trees as well. We're living the good life.

It makes me think of this new life of love that I’ve been chosen for, by God. Sometimes it’s not easy to adjust, sometimes I still see glimpses of the “world” girl in me but slowly as I keep surrounding myself with him, his presence, I see His love permeate me. He’s filling my house with his love, tossing fear right out – it’s not welcome back where perfect love lives, where God lives. No fear of judgement, no fear of death, God’s perfect love overrides it all. I’m beginning to catch a glimpse of what God means when he says “Most of all love each other as if your life depended on it.”(1 Peter 4:7-11 the Message) My life DOES depend on it. If I want to fully be filled with all his goodness, all his life giving presence then I must love. If I want to see the beauty in life around me, if I want to see people from God's perspective then love is my only option. Love is the Good Life.

1 John 4:17-19
God is love. When we take up permanent residence in a life of love, we live in God and God lives in us. This way, love has the run of the house, becomes at home and mature in us, so that we're free of worry on Judgment Day—our standing in the world is identical with Christ's. There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love.

We, though, are going to love—love and be loved. First we were loved, now we love. He loved us first.

You Know You're a Mother......

2009-06-26T10:11:00.000-07:00

No matter how much your kid has hurt you by words or actions, you still want to see life give it's best to them.

You tell them you will never buy them another thing in their entire lives and next time you go out to buy yourself something you come home with the shirt they’ve been eyeing forever.

You try to help your kid understand that you are, in fact, not their personal driver, slave or laundry lady then you find yourself picking up their dirty dishes, doing their dirty laundry, driving their smelly body home from football.

You tell them that you are raising upstanding citizens, people who contribute to society and make it a better place in response to their less than responsible actions like forgetting or losing or nasty attituding

You cry when you hear about your best friend from grade four’s children who were in a car accident then hug your own kids and pray for every child that’s out there that day

You hope like crazy your kids won’t make the mistakes you’ve made and when they do you tell them that you know how they feel and thank God there is forgiveness

You worry, even against good reason, for your kid when she tells you she’ll be home at 11:00 and she shows up half an hour late

The world comes to a screeching halt when your kid does the amazing, incredible, marvellous and then realize you’re the only one who noticed

After fighting about homework being finished, how much T.V. is too much T.V., which video game is appropriate or not, why are boys calling you you’re only 12; you look in on them while they sleep and think what a wonderful life I live

You’re always there, no matter what, no matter when, you will drop everything even your dream for a time to make sure they go further than you ever could

Even though my kids rant, rave, tell me they’re embarrassed to be seen with me, treat me like I know nothing; stare me down a mother is something I will forever and always be. Some days downright suck. Some days are so amazing I wonder why I don’t have more kids (like five isn’t enough!) But mostly each day plods along, uneventful, predictable, marvellously content with itself and I get to watch it unfold amazed at all the tiny, inconsequential stuff that make each of us who we are today.

Beautiful Feet

2009-06-22T13:59:00.000-07:00

Once as a young teen I was told that I have beautiful feet. What a strange compliment I thought at the time. Who tells someone they have beautiful feet? Nice eyes, maybe. Beautiful face, okay. But feet? Since then it has happen to me several more times. I don’t think my feet are anything special, they’re no different than anyone elses’. But God has a very different view of feet. Especially feet that bring good news, breaking news “All is Well!” “God’s Saving Power is Here!” I want feet like that.

So many times we as women can be our own worst enemies. We judge, criticize and berate each other. A number of years ago God showed me a picture of women. In the vision there were many beautiful women each dressed in white, each with a sword, each with much skill. They battled each other with this sword, leaving their sisters to die on the battle field. Many women were merely wounded, others on the brink of death gasping for air. “Someone, please, come and help” were on the lips of many. One lone woman began to care for the wounded, going to each to offer comfort, healing, help; willing to stain the white dress with the blood of her sisters. But she was only one and there were many she would never get to.

I have been guilty many times of fighting my own sisters. Through jealousy, competition, anger, resentment, it has all stemmed from my own insecurities, my own inadequacies, my feelings of never amounting to much. But when I think of this woman offering healing, hope, comfort, help I think that maybe, just maybe, that should be me. She seemed so intent on those around her. The look that filled her eyes, her face was purity beyond anything that I had ever seen. So pure in fact, that it was intoxicating. Women called out to her, reached their hands to her. And all the while I had the sense that she was simply doing what God was showing her; healing the broken hearted, setting the captives free, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked. She was being the hands and feet of Jesus to those around her.

I am part of a group of women called “Dream Group”. This group is specifically set up to see each of us accomplish the dreams we feel God has called us to. We pray with each other, for each other. We listen to each other, confess to each other. We say that we will not be satisfied with anything but the presence of God in our lives and his power to see those dreams accomplished. Each of us has realized that our lives will not be complete until we see others becoming all that God has called them to be. We especially want to see people move beyond their pain and hurt and become living vessels for the kingdom of God.

My prayer is this: that as women of the most high God we would become that “one’. Willing to see ourselves bloodied by the pain and wounds of those around us, on our knees for our sisters, encouraging every women we meet to be all that they can be, all that God has called them to be. The next time you’re feeling a little jealous about someone’s talents or good looks, the next time you feel like you could of done it better, I challenge you to go and encourage. Don’t think about yourself, think about offering the other courage to continue on in what they are doing. Be the one simply doing what God has asked you to do. Be the one with beautiful feet.

Isaiah 52:7-10 (Message)
How beautiful on the mountains
are the feet of the messenger bringing good news,
Breaking the news that all's well,
proclaiming good times, announcing salvation,
telling Zion, "Your God reigns!"
Voices! Listen! Your scouts are shouting, thunderclap shouts,
shouting in joyful unison.
They see with their own eyes
God coming back to Zion.
Break into song! Boom it out, ruins of Jerusalem:
"God has comforted his people!
He's redeemed Jerusalem!"
God has rolled up his sleeves.
All the nations can see his holy, muscled arm.
Everyone, from one end of the earth to the other,
sees him at work, doing his salvation work.

Dragons

2009-06-17T10:20:00.000-07:00

Taylor crawled into my van. He tells me about his friend and how he's throwing his life away. Police charges - stealing a vehicle, driving as a minor, driving under the influence, destruction of public property. He has a lot of things going for him, Taylor says, Why is he throwing it all away? Taylor's friend doesn't see the problem, his addiction has consumed his life and clouded his vision. My son shakes his head in shock. I fight the tears.

As I've been thinking about this young man I think maybe he's not so different from me or you. Alcohol addictions, drug addictions, sex addictions, food addictions, approval addictions. They all have a common denominator don't they? Something deep inside hurts real bad. It hurts so bad that we try to numb it with something. Anything that will help us forget.

I'd like to think I'm above it all, walking completely whole, not a single issue unresolved. Then something happens. The dragon raises it's head and breathes, I realize that there's something deep inside, at the bottom that I've been ignoring, hoping would be gone if I just didn't pay it any attention. It hurts so bad sometimes I want to numb it, make myself forget. So I turn to food or away from food, or to excersise or to approval from people around me. It's my desperate attempt to stuff the dragon back into the cave. When I finally have it under control, the cave tightly sealed, I wonder to myself what will ever become of me if this thing actually gets out. What if I can't fight it anymore?

God shows up. He asks if he can take care of the problem. You know, once and for all. And we look at him as if He's nuts. We've got it under control, can't he see? The cave is sealed, the dragon's contained. God asks if we'd like to be rid of the fire breathing beast. We tell him that first we'd like to tame the thing a bit; teach him some manners so he's not so unruly when he's out. God says when we're tireed of being a dragon trainer we should let him know, he's willing to step in. But just so you know, he says, I'm not a dragon trainer, I'm a dragon slayer. He tells us that he's willing to fight that thing to it's death, clean out the cave and actually move right in. We tell him we'll get back to him, let him know how it goes. He says You've got a lot of things going for you. Why are you throwing it all away?

Sure we might let him fight some of the dragons, but there are those dragons that have become our pets. We can't imagine who we'd be without them. They define us. It seems sick and twisted but we even feed the very things that are destroying us. It's to those places that God wants into. He's waiting for us to step away from the cave. He's itching with anticipation, ready and waiting to slay a dragon.

The wisdom of Kids

2009-06-15T12:36:00.000-07:00

My day started off like this: My 10 year old son Riley is sitting at the table, knees curled up into his chest, looking scared. So I asked him what was wrong. He’s stressed, he tells me, about his French project. Have you finished it? I ask. Yes, he replies. Big brother Taylor steps in and offers his insights. He was once told something that really helped him when he would stress out about school assignments. Riley is curious, what could it be? If it’s finished you can’t change it. Make sure you do your best when you have the opportunity. Riley breathes a sigh of relief. Schools not looking quite so scary now.

This afternoon I read Tassie a story. Not really a story, a book of prayers for kids based on 1 Corinthians 13. I don’t think she listens to a single word I say. She points at a picture and comments on the pig in the picture. She has one just like it. How cool. I close the book. I really like it. It reminds me that love is most important in life. Tassie asks if we can pray. Sure, why not, I say. What is it that she wants to pray about? The kids in Kembata, the kids in Ethiopia. Well, what should we pray for them? I ask. They need clean water and good food so they can grow healthy and strong, she tells me.

Rewind two nights ago. I tuck my Tassie into bed. Let’s pray, I say to her. She wants to pray for the fair, it was so much fun. She wants to pray about Jesus too.
Interesting, I think to myself. What does she want to pray about Jesus, I ask?
That she could fly away with him. She really, really wants too. And see where he lives too.

Rewind a few months ago. Shadaye prays. She wants to pray for Jesus too. Why, I ask. Because it must have really hurt, she says. All those holes in his hands and feet. And blood too. Your right, I say to her. It must of really, really hurt.

Michaela gets ready for bed. We talk about why praying is important. She tells me she knows, she prays all the time.

Tassie is eating dinner. Jesus is coming soon, she says to me with a sparkle in her eye. Really I say? I want to fly with him, she tells me, in the sky, way, way up. Like a butterfly.

Riley prays for our Compassion kids. All five by name. He asks God to help them in school because he knows how tough school can be with all the projects and stuff. And help their families have enough to eat today, he adds. And that their moms and dads can find work so they can have money to live.

Michaela tells me of a girl at school who cuts herself. Last time she did it, Michaela tells me, she was in the hospital for a few weeks. I say that maybe the girl needs Jesus. Michaela says the girl knows Jesus, she goes to church. I tell her that maybe the girl needs to know that Jesus loves her and wants to be her friend. Maybe she should pass the message on.

You have taught children and infants to tell of your strength, silencing your enemies and all who oppose you. (Psalm 8:2)

I can just feel the enemy tremble.

This New Life of Love

2009-06-11T08:09:00.000-07:00

So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It's your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it (Colossians 3:13 MSG)

I had this moment, (actually it lasted a little longer than that!) yesterday. A conversation started. I knew it wasn’t going anywhere good. The longer the three of us talked the more uneasy I felt. 45 minutes later I left feeling defeated, deflated, useless and quite upset. I wept. I prayed. All I could hear God say was “Forgive”.

Forgive, easier said than done sometimes. When someone hurts me it’s the last thing I want to do. When someone hurts me repeatedly I want to run and hide, cover my wound, try to make it better myself. But the truth is, only God is able to stop the bleeding. It is only through the power of the Holy Spirit that I am able to actually extend true forgiveness, forgiveness that sets me free from bitterness, anger and resentment to live a life full of love, peace and joy.

I’m reminded of Corrie Ten Boom. Years after her experience in a death camp she was speaking at a church about how God had been her strength all those years, had taught her about forgiveness. When she was finished speaking a man came up to her and told her that he was so moved by her testimony of forgiveness. She recognized this man to be one of the guards at the camp she and her sister had been placed in. He had been very cruel and had played a part in her sister’s untimely death. This former guard stretched out his hand and asked for her forgiveness of what he had participated in. Corrie fought the urge to run, cried out to God and told God she could not forgive this man. God knew, of course, that humanly Corrie would never be able to forgive this man but through the power of His Holy Spirit all things are possible. God filled her with His Spirit as she reached out her hand to this former guard and she was able to truly forgive him for all that he had done.

I think about this new life of love that God has called me to and what that all entails; forgiveness when I feel someone has wronged me, not always winning, kindness when I feel I’ve been hurt, not getting angry so quickly. That’s what this life of love is all about.

I think about what God has forgiven me, all my sins, my unthankfulness, my bad habits, anything that keeps me from his presence. He loves me despite them all. At the very least I should be offering what I have received to those around me.
And I am reminded that no matter what else I put on Love covers it all. When faced with situations where I may feel attacked or misunderstood viewing the situation through the eyes of Christ’s love gives me a very different perspective. I should never leave home without it.

This is the life of love God's talking about: “Everything in the world is about to be wrapped up, so take nothing for granted. Stay wide-awake in prayer. Most of all, love each other as if your life depended on it. Love makes up for practically anything. Be quick to give a meal to the hungry, a bed to the homeless—cheerfully. Be generous with the different things God gave you, passing them around so all get in on it: if words, let it be God's words; if help, let it be God's hearty help. That way, God's bright presence will be evident in everything through Jesus, and he'll get all the credit as the One mighty in everything—encores to the end of time. Oh, yes!” (1Peter 4:7-11 MSG)

10 Things I learned On the Worst Day Of My Life...

2009-06-08T12:48:00.000-07:00

1. Not everyone appreciates sarcasm as a communication style.

2. I can say a lot of nasty things in a very short span of time.

3. Always feed growing 13 year olds before they turn on you.

4. Eating 3 bags of Oreo Thinsations 100 calorie snacks does not equate a healthy diet - I should have eaten the actual cookie instead

5. I love coaching volleyball. I love my daughter. I DO NOT love to coach my daughter in volleyball.

6. An Attitude of Gratitude goes a long way.

7. Children forgive much easier than adults.

8. When given a leadership role, make sure you lead and not follow.

9. No matter how much encouragement I get one bad comment and it's all wiped out. (I need to change that!)

10. No matter how many times I screw up in one day God still loves me, accepts me and wants me to be all I can be. (This is my favorite one!)

Bonus - A gift can make a lot of things better. (This is my other favorite one!)

My Brain Made Me Do It

2009-06-04T08:36:00.001-07:00

The other day Shadaye built a beautiful sandcastle. Little divets and peaks edged the cake shaped castle. When she was finished she called me over. Come see my castle, she beckoned to me. I told her how beautiful it was and what a great job she had done. “I didn’t do it, mom. My brain did.” Of course I looked a little surprised and bemused by the statement. I tried to correct her, tell her that she was the one who actually thought up the idea. She was adamant; all the credit went to her brain. She had no responsibility in it other than her hands obeying what her brain had told her. This idea of her brain being a separate entity, of course, has frustrated me many times. I want to yell “Take responsibility child. Take responsibility for what you’ve done.”

As of late I’ve had my own rat race running in my head. And this morning when I woke up and all sorts of thoughts bombarded my mind and I did nothing to stop it, I felt like Shadaye. “My brain did it.” The rat seemed out-of-control huge as he nibbled at any attempts at shaking myself out of the worry, doubt, and shame I was floundering in. I felt a bit as though “my brain” was taking over. Finally I began to pray. I told God what I thought (like he didn’t already know), how sick I was of thinking it and how badly I never wanted to fight this thing again.

And God, in all his beauty, showed me a picture of my heart. He showed me how much of the shattered pieces He had already put together. Like a Master Puzzler He was strategically piecing the outside edges together first so that it could contain what He was about to do on the inside. I watched as joy filled His face. He was so pleased with His work already. He was, in fact, enjoying the puzzle process. So much of my heart had been rebuilt but there was more to go.

Perhaps it is those things that I need to fix my mind on when the rat tries it’s onslaught on the cheese of my heart. That God is diligently working, piecing, placing together something no one else has the power to put back together. He alone with His infinite wisdom is working all things together for good. He asks of me to think on the beautiful not the ugly; the praise worthy not the cursed.

Freedom not the cage.

Philippians 4:8,9Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.

Be the Difference

2009-06-02T11:25:00.000-07:00

Last week my youngest daughter, Tassani, graduated from preschool. It was a very exciting event, she could hardly wait to get to the ceremony. It had been a long time since I had been to one of these so when we arrived I was shocked at the number of people that were there; grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, parents. The gym was packed. Shadaye and I found a little spot against the wall were we could watch the grandeur unfold. The door at the back of the gym swung open and what seemed to be 100 little people began the march. Down the aisle, up the stairs, waiting to be told where to stand, don’t take off your hat, quick pushing the little girl in front of you. Fifteen minutes later we were set. Shadaye watched as her baby sister stood on the stage with envy. Why could she never be on stage, she asked, It just wasn’t fair. As Shadaye watched in jealousy but with a great big smile on her face she made an observation. “Tassani is the brownest one there.” And for the next hour Shadaye kept mentioning it. It was true, in a sea of little white faces and blonde, brown and red hair, Tassani was the brownest one there. Her beautiful, curly afro was hard to miss. As a matter of fact, there was no one as brown as she was! I asked Shadaye how she thought Tassani might be feeling. She told me that she thought Tassani might feel a teeny, tiny bit sad because sometimes when she knows that she’s the brownest kid that’s how she feels. As she was talking I had this overwhelming feeling of being a foreigner among all these white people. I wanted to grab my little girls and run. Somewhere where we fit in, didn’t stick out so much. Everything about us was so different than any other family there. I could see the questions on people’s faces when I was walking hand in hand with them, when they called me Mommy.

I’ve been praying lately that God would show me what He’s looking for in his church. You know the group of people that represent the Kingdom of Heaven and it’s King. I wanted to know what he sees ‘cause sometimes I’m not sure what I’m looking for. As I was praying this past week God reminded me of preschool graduation. He reminded me of the brownest face there, my little Tassani. As I looked at her in my mind’s eye I felt as though God said to me “This is my church.” The ramifications of that one statement are huge, and I could probably write about it for a very long time. What I believe God was showing me at that moment was this: all the white faces represented secular culture, everything we live, rules and morals of our current culture, our World. The brownest face represented his church, an “other worldness”. She is different not because she tries to be but because God has simply made her different. If we belong to His church we have that “other worldness” to us. Sometimes I feel as though because I am a follower of Christ I am different. And I don’t always like that feeling. I want to run to somewhere where I fit in, where I don’t look so different. I believe that God is asking me “Won’t you stay and be the difference?” “Won’t you look around at all those who don’t know Me and simply be what I have created you to be?”

That is what I believe God is looking for when he looks at his church. He’s looking for the “brownest face” to simply be what he has created them to be. He’s looking for the church to be the difference. He is not looking for a church that blends in with its surroundings leaving the world to wonder what they are looking for but a church that embraces their “other worldness” and is willing to let others ask us about our difference, wonder why we are what we are. It’s not always easy and like Shadaye put it “sometimes I feel a teeny tiny bit sad” that I don’t fit in. But I take comfort in this: Hebrews 11:12-14 12 And so a whole nation came from this one man who was as good as dead—a nation with so many people that, like the stars in the sky and the sand on the seashore, there is no way to count them.
13 All these people died still believing what God had promised them. They did not receive what was promised, but they saw it all from a distance and welcomed it. They agreed that they were foreigners and nomads here on earth. 14 Obviously people who say such things are looking forward to a country they can call their own.

Ultimate GPS

2009-05-29T11:27:00.000-07:00

I have this gadget in my van. Big suction cup sucked to the windshield like fish lips holding a palm-sized square. One giant eye stares back at me. Her name? Maggie. Maggie came to us approximately 4 months ago. While surfing on the internet Earl saw her, for a steal of a deal I might add, and scooped her up. Driving will never be the same, he told me with deep conviction. Never ever will we get lost again, (I’ve wondered many times who the “we” was!) he assured me, Maggie is infallible, she is our great leader on the highways and byways.

Then came the day we opened her box, lovingly cradled her and sucked her to the windshield. The disappointment came when she got lost on the driveway. She just needs to get her bearings, I was told. So I drove the half mile down the road to a major highway. Surely she would spot us now, wide open prairie fields, clear skies. I reprogrammed her for the same address, maybe I was the one making mistakes after all computers are never wrong. Slowly I pulled up to the stop sign. Knowing my next turn would be a right-hand turn, I awaited her instruction. “Left Turn” ding ding. I tapped her on the side, Must be confused. I made my right-hand turn. In response Maggie said “Make a U-turn at the next possible intersection.” I hit the power button. She’ll get a retry once I’m in the city.

And so is the story of Maggie. She’s fine for some things, but gets lost easily in parking lots and rural communities. She neglects to let me know that the “fastest route” often has traffic backed up for 4 miles because of construction. I must say though, she is always polite, never gets frustrated, and speaks in French, Spanish and English if I’m craving some international flair.
The problem is whenever I go somewhere unfamiliar instead of looking on a map I resort to Maggie. You’d think I would learn my lesson, trusting something that is wrong just as many times as she is right. But I do it anyway, it’s so easy just to punch in an address and let something else do the thinking for you.

How often do I do that in life? Default. Keep trusting unreliable sources to guide me. They haven’t proved themselves. Sure they might be right 50% of the time but what of the other 50%? I’m left misguided and wandering through parking lots and dangerous, time consuming construction zones. This is not to say that I can’t or shouldn't’t take the advice from others but it is a reminder that asking the Holy Spirit for guidance is our best bet. No one else but God promises that our best interests are His best interests. Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the plans I have for you,” says the LORD. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope. If I put God on the windshield of life I know that no matter what the road ahead may hold for me, God’s got it covered. He’s reliable, trustworthy and there for me. He’s the one I’m putting all my trust in. God’s Positioning System never, ever disappoints.

Living with Hands Wide Open

2009-05-26T07:57:00.000-07:00

My devotions this morning really hit me hard, Jesus talking to his disciples – If you want to truly really live, give it all up, everything. Hold on to nothing. Live with your hands wide open. When we do this we will truly begin to experience the benefits of following Christ.

So often I get caught up in the rat race of our culture. I find myself wishing for a newer vehicle, so I look a little more current. Driving by a big house I think that all that space might be nice (then I think about who has to clean that space – ME! No thank you!) I walk through malls and see all the great clothes and accessories, shoes and I think “Oh wouldn’t it be wonderful to shop, accumulate, horde.” Oh and vacations? I need another one. The last one wasn’t long enough, good enough, big enough. Not that having new vehicles or big homes is wrong. Or having new clothing, shoes or accessories is a problem. Going on vacation is a wonderful experience and a great family builder. But, it’s the discontent I have inside. The wishing for more because the last didn’t satisfy me.

I can’t remember if I’ve told my “Grey Pants” story, but it bares repeating. For a long time I had this quest for grey pants. I thought that if I owned these grey pants somehow my life would be a little brighter. I’d be a little more stylish. I wanted GREY PANTS. So my quest began. The hunt was long and laborious. I tried on many, many pairs of grey pants. Until that final day, I picked them up held them just so, ran to the dressing room to find that these were THE grey pants. I bought them. My life now complete, I went home to await that first wearing of the grey pants. The day finally came, I wore them. And you know what? There was no fairy dust sparkles in the air. No one flocked to me because of them. I don’t think a soul even commented on my grey pants. No matter, I felt fabulous in them. Or did I? This slow realization came over me. My grey pants were not magical. They were, in all their glory, simply grey pants. Nothing more.

My point is this, no matter what you own or think you need to own or want to own it will never, ever satisfy the deep inside of each of us. Life with Jesus satisfies.
Jesus tells us that if we give up our lives we will keep them. If we give, we will receive. He tells us that the greatest among us is the least, that he uses the foolish things of this world to confound the wise. He shows through his life that giving ridiculously and serving completely are part of the kingdom of God. If we want to enjoy life the best way possible, if we want joy, peace, freedom and love then begin to give extravagantly, hold nothing back, go all out. Live with your hands wide open.

“Give as freely as you have received.” (Matt 10:8) God has poured himself out for me. Given his only son, who died on the cross so that I might live free, with Jesus, forever. He's loved me when I've not deserved it, shown mercy and forgiveness when I've screwed up, been kind when I've been mean, healed me when I was hurt. He's done it all for me, everything. He's spared nothing. God has lived with his hands wide open offering whatever he has to me so that I might be more complete, resemble his image a bit more.

Can't I, at the very least, offer my hands wide open?

Finish

2009-05-20T08:35:00.000-07:00

"Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we'd better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we're in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he's there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!
Hebrews 12:1-3(The Message)

Sometimes, okay most times, in my past I've had difficulty finishing. When I was younger I didn't finish my homework on time, which left me stressed at school. When I was a young mom I didn't finish projects I had started around the house, painting, sewing, cleaning. I always had an excuse as to why I couldn't finish it. I went to college, finished my first year, just enough to get the job I wanted teaching English as an Additional Language, no more, no less. Several years later, I thought maybe I'd grown up enough to take the responsibility of finishing my entire degree. I went back to school, completed another year. But I just couldn't bring myself to go back and finish (there were a variety of reasons (there's my excuse!!)). I have beat myself up over this, scolded myself, ranted and raved and still I did not finish. (Quite obviously I have a problem!)

Lately, I've felt like there are many demands on my time. Toting 5 children around to their various activities accounts for 6 of the 7 evenings we have. Earl working long hours now that spring (hopefully) has arrived. Doing all the mom things moms do during the day -laundry for half the country (or so it seems with this many children); meal preparations for small armies(they sure fight like it!); cleaning up after 7 people, 2 dogs and a cat who leaves a lot of dead bird carcasses on my deck; yard work (funny how the family with the landscaping business never seems to have a well maintained yard.) Oh yes, and I'm writing a book. Two actually. I'm very excited about seeing them........finished.

This weekend I was at a conference for Compassion Canada. As I was checking in I received a name tag and like all those who had checked in before me I had a sticky note on mine. Every person had a different word stuck to their name tag. You'd never guess what mine said..............

FINISH

I had to chuckle. God knew exactly what I had been thinking lately; "Maybe it won't matter if I'm not involved with Compassion so much right now." To which God answered "Finish", "Maybe I could not be involved in...." the list went on for a while and God in all his patience said "Finish". The answer never changed. Then I began to think of all those who so tirelessly work to see poverty addressed and children's lives changed, I think about all the authors I've read about who have children, family, crazy lives - they finish. They put their head down and do it. They don't quit simply because they don't feel like continuing. They do it because they determined to make a difference, to finish what they have started.

The verse in Hebrews says "We'd better get on with it" There is work to be done. Children whose stories need to be told. Poverty that needs to be address, people that need to be awakened.

The verse also gives me a good clue as to what to do when I'm feeling a little tired, overwhelmed, overworked. Never lose sight of where you are headed, Jesus didn't. He remembered finishing meant sitting along side God and because of that He could endure anything: rejection, pain, suffering, shame, even death. He plowed through it all. Victoriously, I might add.

So if you find yourself in that moment between quiting or finishing. Pick the latter. Finish. All of heaven is cheering you on as you finish the work that God has laid before you. Remember what Jesus himself went through. If he hadn't finished his work here on earth, I don't know where I'd be (actually I think I do know and I'm not liking the idea at all.)Let's keep our eyes on the prize, the goal set before us. Because Christ started and finished this race we can too. He's given us all we need through his death and resurrection to finish.

The Family of Compassion

2009-05-18T12:01:00.000-07:00

Seven years ago, on a frosty winter evening, just around Christmas time Earl came home and told me about a campaign that had been running on a local radio station. The campaign was for a child sponsor organization called "Compassion". We had been think for sometime that it would be a great experience for our own three children at the time to learn more about how most of the kids in the world live. So that evening all five of us made our way to the computer and checked out Compassion's website. My only daughter at the time wanted a "little sister" very badly. There were so many potential little sisters it was very hard for her to pick. But, when Litzy Suzeth Perdomo Garcia's picture popped up Michaela squealed. "That's it, That's her! she pointed to the picture, jumping up and down. "She's my little sister!" Michaela was right. She was a perfect 3 year old sister. Her wispy dark hair, and her tiny features were beautiful but it was the sadness in her eyes that caught my attention. I knew she was the little girl for our family.

Over the years we've received letters from Litzy telling us about her family life, school, her country. Those letters have been so inspiring. I remember one letter specifically that I received at a very difficult time in my life. As I read the verse that Litzy had written I began to cry. God was speaking directly to the situation I was in through this little girl in a poor neighborhood thousands of miles away. God had placed her in my life with as much intention as I was placed in hers.

Three years ago I read several books that challenged me to do more. Those books were "Be a Hero" and "Too small to ignore" by Wes Stafford the president of Compassion International. After reading these books, I called Compassion and asked if there was more than just sponsoring. They told me that they were "glad I had asked" and "yes there most definitely was, would I like to be an advocate?" I told them yes, it was the very least I could do for the children of the world, advocating on their behalf. So I became an advocate. This is were I met the Family of Compassion.

This family that I have come to be apart has been incredible. I have met people from around the world all with a common vision of seeing children released from poverty in Jesus' name. Passionate people who really believe the Bible's mandate of going into all the world and preaching the gospel. I've seen how hard the people on the field work to see these children become all that they can be. I've heard their stories of how God gives hope to the hopeless, is a father to the fatherless. I've seen communities changed because of Compassion's unbelievable passion and dedication to Christ and to the poor of the world. And I am blessed to be a part of it.

If you have been wondering "What can I do?", well, I have a family to tell you about and we'd love it if you'd join us. I will not tell you it's always easy, because it's not or that you will have to make no sacrifices because you will. What I will tell you though is that you would be part of the 150,000 children who came to know Christ this past year. I will tell you that you would be part of the 5000 projects world wide that are changing their communities. And I will tell you that God would be please, thrilled, tickled to know that you care about the children of the world as much as He does.

Earl and I have 5 sponsor children from different countries around the globe, one for each of our children at home. Our goal (right now) is 10 sponsor children. We know that their lives will be changed forever, we know that our lives are changed forever.
Won't you join us?

The Art of Words.....

2009-05-12T10:16:00.000-07:00

For me writing is a very personal experience. Sharing thoughts that I haven't processed all the way seems a bit risky. But this past week that is exactly what I did. And,I let strangers critique me. What kind of crazy person does that!?! I have to say though, it has been one of the most rewarding experiences I've ever had. I've grown in ways I could never have without the observations of my new friends (which they became rather quickly as I poured my heart out through my pen.)

The week started off a little shaky. I wasn't sure that it was going to deliver on all the preconceived ideas I had. In fact, it was far better then I could have ever imagined. Mostly because I let people view the real me, the me in my writing. And, because I listened to what they observed as they read my writing. Part of growing as a writer is letting others offer their ideas on how you can write better, convey your ideas better through the written word. It was challenging to hear some of the suggestions, sometimes I felt completely misunderstood. In times gone by I would have thought they've made quick judgments and don't really understand me. This week I realized that perhaps it is me that is not conveying my message properly. Sure observers observe through their life experiences, something which I have no control over but when time and again someone is misunderstanding it is my problem not theirs.

When I think of the life story I am in the midst of creating through my family, hobbies, passions I realize that I need others to offer their ideas, tell me what they see in me. Sometimes their observations may hurt but that doesn't mean that they are not true. I'm not saying that we need to run around and tell everyone what we believe to be their problem. But, we have all had moments when someone has made an observation that we don't think is accurate in our lives, or maybe we know it to be very accurate and didn't think anyone else would see it. Those are the moments we can either not take offense and grow from it or let it wound us and watch it stunt us from becoming the person God has intended us to be.

Wisdom literature (called that for a reason) states that "Iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17 And again in Proverbs 27:6 "wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses." As stated earlier I am not condoning malicious, heartless slander. What I am saying is in order for each of us to grow we need those who truly want to see us at our best tell us the truth. And sometimes the truth is hard to take. If we have true friends, we can be confident that their intentions can be trusted, that they are concerned with sharpening us instead of leaving us dull and useless. I have to ask myself, "Do I really want a friend who does not care enough to tell me the truth?, Do I want to be a friend who cares enough to tell the truth?" Through prayer and guidance God can show us how to process what is being said and also how to be gracious in what He is telling us to say. It is a craft that is well worth learning; knowing when to hold your tongue and when to speak.

After a week of writing and sharing and listening to people critique my work I realize that I cannot do this thing called life without the input of others. I want to be all I can be. If that's what we want we've got to be willing to have others speak into our lives. We've got to be brave enough to be sharpened by those around us.

Things I learned at writing school...

2009-05-11T06:18:00.000-07:00

1) You are never to old to start living your dream

2) Hard work and presistance is better than talent

3) I am not square in all circles

4) I need other people if I want to be my best

5) Constructive Critisizm is vitally important to my life

6) Baring my soul to people I don't know quickly becomes baring my soul to friends

7) Never judge something until you've given it a good effort

8) Always stay teachable. You never know everything about everything

9) There are a lot of great writers in this world

10) Never quit at what you feel you've been created for

The Cat Came Back

2009-04-30T06:41:00.000-07:00

All winter long our cat, Patches, sleeps. She sleeps on anything that is soft, living room cushions, on my clothes in my closet, clean laundry. I’ve taken to shaking a fist at her every time I see her around my clothing. White fur stuck to everything. While I read she gently bounces up onto my lap, settles down for a tummy rub and a nap. She loves to be cradled like a baby and she even “talks” to me, meowing at my feet when she needs to be fed, held or needs her litter box changed.

Just as spring begins to make its appearance something changes in Patches. She becomes more frisky, more awake, more animalistic. She begins to scratch on the door to get out. The warmer the days become the longer she spends outside. Soon she begins showing up at the door with gifts. They usually start off fairly small, a mangled bird beak, the back end of a mouse (tail included)(I’m not sure what she was trying to say with that gift!), at times entrails are smeared along the floor of the deck. This past week I received two birds, one fairly small one and the other was the size of a small rabbit! (OOhh I can feel the love. My kids don’t even appreciate me this much!) Every spring Patches rediscovers who she is: a cat, part of the feline family, same family as lions, tigers, leopards and other big cats.

The other night at the dinner table we were discussing Patches and this personality change we noticed. How much more fierce she seems to be, more intentional, focused when she’s outdoors. We thought we could encourage her to go after larger game, rabbits, prairie chickens, maybe a cow, it would cut down on our grocery budget, until one of my children shared her anxiety, “I don’t like the way she looks at me.” Chick-a-dee salad sandwiches will be just fine.

Sometimes seasons in life lull me into a deep sleep. I’m relaxed, lazy even. Life’s fine. I get what I want when I want it. My needs are met, I’m comfortable. But deep inside of me there is something that needs waking up. Perhaps a situation in life changes or I begin to realize that there is more to life. Something deep inside begins to stir. I begin to rediscover just who I am, who God has created me to be. I’m not talking just about the unique you (although that is very important as well) I’m talking about the you the bible talks about. Just like Patches rediscovered that she was part of the feline family we need to discover what it means to be part of God’s family.

The bible says that I am accepted, I am secure and I am significant (check out this website for bible refs www.ficm.org/whoiam.htm) when I belong to the family of God. My gene pool is now the kingdom of God. The very breath that gave Adam life is in me. The God who raises the dead lives in me! The God who created every living thing, the solar systems and the universe resides in me! That’s who we are. That’s us. Children of the most High, friends with Jesus, citizens of heaven, ministers of reconciliation. That’s what God says about us!
So let’s live out what God sees in us already. Believe it, God does.

About a Life

2009-04-27T08:13:00.000-07:00

On my trip to the Dominican in October, I had the privilege of see several of Compassion's projects. One of these projects had a program for expectant mothers and mothers of children under the age of 3. It was here where I met this young mother and her 18 day old baby. It was here where God reminded me once again of what he has done for me.

As I watched this young teen mom hold her baby I thought back to my own life. I also was born to a young teen. My mother was 14 years old. Before my birth she was given the options to abort me. She declined. She said she would keep me. Although growing up for me was difficult I knew that God was always right beside me, He was my friend. I struggled all through my childhood and teen years with excepting myself, after all, I was a mistake, I was told.

A mistake. How does a person process that? How do you become okay with yourself when you know that you should never have been? No one wanted you. It was a lifetime of believing that my life was useless, it would never amount to anything. I felt like I had nothing to give. As a young child I was often suicidal. If I weren't around than all the problems I saw in my family would never have to be. My family was together because they had to be, because of me. I often thought that if I died everyone would be better off. And God would be right there talking to me. He was the only friend that I felt I had. He was the only one who would listen to me, the only one who wanted me.

As I grew into my teens I could feel God keep me. It was as though I was encased in bubble wrap. So many times I could have made bad choices that would have potentially destroyed my life but God was there holding out his hand letting me know that I indeed mattered to him. On the outside I looked as though I had it all together but on the inside my heart was splintered in a million pieces.

Through the years God slowly worked, loved and held me. When I would cry myself to sleep he was there. When I would feel like I had no reason to live He would be my reason to live. He would speak to me in dreams, I would talk to him sitting on the front porch. He was my life line, all I had.

The moment that changed my life forever, that convinced my once and for all that I was loved, accepted and wanted was a vision that God gave me during a prayer time.

It was the day of my birth and God showed me the view from earth and heaven. The hospital room was cold and dimly lit. There were a few people in the room. All of them were weeping. The doctor, nurse, my grandparents. I thought someone had died. Then I saw my mother, just a girl herself, holding me, a tiny newborn baby. She was weeping uncontrollably. It seemed as if death and sadness filled the air. The pain I felt in my heart at that moment was overwhelming.

Then God showed me the view from heaven. I looked and I saw God standing there, in long flowing robes, strong and powerful. He held something in his arms. When I looked closer I saw that the tiny baby was me. God looked adoringly into my little face. And then he began to shout. He shouted so loud the ground that I was standing on shook. "She's here!" He shouted and joy filled his voice. "She's here! I've been waiting for this moment!" And then God held me close to his chest and danced. He spun in circles, his robes flying. He danced and laughed and danced some more. I was so loved, so wanted, so accepted.

Proverbs 139:13-18 "You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous - and how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. How precious are your thoughts about me, oh God! They are innumerable! I can't even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up in the morning you are still with me!

God has saved me and I am forever grateful. He has saved me from certain death and destruction. My God is great and his mercy and love lives on forever.

If any of you have ever wondered what heaven was like the day you were born, I believe that God held you in his arms, shouted at the top of his lungs "You're here!" and danced. He danced and he danced because you had arrived. You mean that much to him.

Who's in Your Centre?

2009-04-23T06:41:00.000-07:00

“Read this”, my husband Earl passed his book to me. It was a chapter from Stephen Covey’s book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. In the chapter he discusses among other things, a person’s centre. (Now don’t bail on me yet. I’m not promoting some weird religious cult.) When he is referring to one’s centre he is talking about the basic paradigms that are at the very core of you.
“I think I’m self-centred.” Earl piped up. “Took a book to tell you that?” I thought to myself as I read the paragraph. “Really?” I said out loud.
“Which one are you?” he inquired. I looked over the page at the options listed there thinking to myself all the while “I don’t have a problem with that, or that or that.” I turned back a few pages. It struck me like a fist in the gut - the very first option, Option A, if you will. I closed my eyes tightly. Just the title alone made me seize. I didn’t have to read any further to realize that Option A was completely me!!! AAAHHHHH! I peeked through the corner of my eye, willing what I had seen earlier to vanish. I squeezed my eyes shut. “It can’t be true.” I thought to myself. Slowly I opened one eye and then the other. But there it was in black and white – Spouse-Centredness. I read the paragraph, to confirm to myself that this was most definitely not me. With each word in I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was exactly where I was at.
Earl and I have been happily married for 16+years. It’s not that we haven’t had our disagreements or fights and I can even think of a particularly difficult year that I never want to experience again. But all in all, we love each other, respect each other and want God’s best for each other. I have to admit though, I have these strange tendencies - tendencies that place unreasonable requests on our marriage. Spouse-centeredness is exactly that; strong emotional dependence, worth that comes primarily from our marriage relationship. That doesn’t sound so bad, does it? Not compared to say, self-centeredness, money centeredness or possession centeredness? I mean those are obvious evils. We could all probably quote a few verses to support the evils of those centres.
The problem with Spouse-centeredness comes when one spouse is dependent on the other for emotional worth. If the spouse can’t deliver what is expected even though it might be outrageous conflict arises and is compounded because the perceived need is going unfulfilled. What it comes right down to is that I’m looking for my husband to take the place of God in my life. To fill me up with things only God has offered to fill me up with. Now that doesn’t sound so good. No matter how great of a guy he is he cannot do for me what God can do. I become preoccupied with getting my needs met and preoccupied with the lie that it is my husband’s duty and responsibility to meet those needs.

Matthew 6:30-33 reads like this in The Message
30-33"If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

"Don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you?" I always thought my husband would do that for me. This verse tells me that if I "steep my life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions" I don't have to worry about missing out on anything. If I become God-centered all of those deep needs and longings will be met in Him because God himself is attending to me. As trust-worthy as my husband is I have never been able to depend on him to fill me completely. Why? Because God never intended it to work that way. God wants to be my centre and if I choose anyone other then Him I'll be missing out.

"Free at Last Free at Last Thank God Almighty I'm free at last I can hear the song, can't you? Free to completely, continually rely on God, to let him fill the God-shaped centre in my life. Jesus be my centre.

no longer FRUSTRATED

2009-04-20T08:35:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago my youngest son had a birthday party. Boys running, jumping, shooting. It was quite a hair-raising experience for a mother! For his birthday, Riley received a number of great gifts. The one that caught my attention was the Lego "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom." It was quite cool. His buddy, the one who gave it to him, was just as excited as Riley about the gift. So when all the other guests left Nicholas stayed behind and the two of them began working on it. Riley was slightly apprehensive. Although he really enjoys Lego he does not consider himself to be a very good builder of Lego. He took one look at the directions and threw his hands in the air. "I can't do this!" he lamented. Nicholas rubbed his hands together and grabbed the instructions. "I can!" he shouted. Riley was all too happy for the help. The two of them sat on the floor and worked. Nicholas would call out what piece he needed and Riley would scour through the pile of pieces and come up with the match. Nicholas frantically built while Riley frantically obeyed the commands. Within an hour Indiana Jones was standing in the Temple of Doom. The boys proceeded to show me every booby-trap there was in the tiny replica.

Sometimes I look at the lives that require me to build or add or teach them. I think of my children in particular. As parents we invest a lot of time and energy in helping our kids become all they can be. And sometimes like Riley I take one look at the situation and throw my hands in the air and exclaim "I can't do this!" At least Lego comes with instructions. There seems to be no booklet or instructional DVD that was attached to any of my 5 kids. And then I imagine God rubbing his hands together and shouting "I can!" And at that moment I need to declare my dependency on God. I'm not weak for not understanding everything that goes through these people entrusted to me. They are complex, creative creatures and I'm so glad God knows exactly what piece needs to go where. I will gladly pass the right pieces but I need to be listening to the instructions he is giving me.

Just yesterday I had one of those frustrating moments. After calmly explaining to my child that humans do not eat their young under any circumstances and I would not be pushed to test that fact, I walked to my room, slammed the door so hard I thought the hinges would fall off and cried. Then I heard that still small voice whispering to me. The instructions, why hadn't I listen a little earlier. I could have saved myself the overwhelming emotions I was feeling right now. God quietly calmed my soul, I realized how I needed to handle these situations differently, not let myself be pushed to far. Then I colored my hair. Spent then next 25 minutes processing both my hair and my attitude and walked out of the room a little brighter, a little more in control and a lot more concious of God.

God is, after all, the Master Builder. He has intricitly designed each and everyone of us. He knows what we need and when we need it. He knows how we tick, function, work. He knows each one of us better then we know ourselves. God is the one with the individualized instructional DVD for each person. All I need to do is ask and then be willing to obey when he speaks. Before long God and I will be sitting on the floor looking at the finished model (although I'm sure there are always add-ons)amazed at what the two of us could do together and the fun we have doing it. And before we know it we'll be checking out the booby-traps and laughing.

Taking a Chance

2009-04-14T06:56:00.000-07:00

Take Chances! Make Mistakes! -Ms. Frizzle (Magic School Bus)

As I read my little girls a story last night - The Magic School Bus In the Haunted Museum - Ms Frizzle kept encouraging her students to Take Chances! Make Mistakes! Wait a minute that's not how I was taught to learn. I had to get it right the first time. Making a mistake meant I was a failure. But Ms. Frizzle has other ideas. Take a chance. Be bold. Be Brave. Mistakes are not something to be feared but learned from.

This past weekend I had something happen to me. I had the realization that I have let other people dictate to me how my life will turn out. I have let other people's words rob me of living my life, my gifts to the fullest. I've been afraid to take chances because I'm afraid to disappoint others. What will they say? How will they react? I realized that I must ask God to forgive me for valuing other people's opinons more then I value God's. I realized that if I really cared only about what God is saying then I would take the chances! I think I'd even make mistakes but I wouldn't let them get me down, wouldn't let them define me. I'd let God to that, define me.

I think about how much I am missing because I'm scared to take chances. To really believe that I've got something to offer someone, that my life can make a difference in this world. I've missed a lot because of my fear and I'm tired of huddling in a corner hiding because I don't think I have anything to offer. The truth of the matter is that God has created each one of us with something to offer. There isn't one of us with the excuse that we have nothing of importance to give. God has created each one of us to fulfill his purposes and plans. And he's big enough to teach us through our mistakes, leading us into deeper friendship with him.

We've got something, let's not let anyone take it away. Let's fix our eyes on Jesus, lift up our chins, and take chances! Move forward! Be a part of God's kingdom coming to this earth.

Deep Caverns

2009-04-09T11:54:00.000-07:00

Niverville. Not a particularly exciting place to live. Life happens slowly for the most part around here. Everyone knows who you are by asking who you were born to. The same teachers that taught me are teaching my children in the local school. The ladies at the post ask about each of my 5 children by name. Life is pretty predictable around here.

So you can imagine how surprised the drillers that were working in the new development were when, drilling for water 103 feet below the surface they hit a hole. I'm no expert in geology but apparently a hole 103 ft below the surface means that some thing's there. The University of Manitoba was called in to take a look. They brought with them their sophisticated cameras and geology-type stuff to see exactly what it is that they could see. The cameras were lowered down the shaft. Everyone wondered what this hole might be. When the cameras were deep enough they began to send up the information. Deep caverns, water gushing in from all sides. They were looking at a coral reef! A coral reef right below our feet. The University said that they had never seen anything like that in Manitoba before. That takes the excitement in Niverville up a notch or two!

I began to think about the significance of that. These caverns were encased in hard pan (don't really know what that is except that it is hard.) Deep places no one had any idea about. Places were life once was but is now covered, encased in a matter so hard they needed a special drill to dig through. Perhaps there are places in my heart like that to. Deep down, places I've covered up to protect myself. But something is alive down there, water is rushing in. Something inside is yearning to go to those deep places and meet God, see what he's doing down there, see what's been hidden, what I've never known about before. Watch him work, explain, whisper about the wonders before me and then be completely amazed as one cavern leads to another. Hidden treasures in deep caverns.

I've got some exploring to do.

Finding Faith

2009-04-06T07:33:00.000-07:00

Not to long ago I was talking with someone about a situation in a relationship I was facing. I was told that I "might just have to be okay with it. It may never change." That statement got me thinking about faith. What is it? Do I have faith to believe for something?

So I went to search for my trusty dictionary which I received for a Christmas gift after much begging when I was 12 years old. (Strange I know but I have always loved words. I won't tell you how often I read it. The word "NERD" may come to mind.) I had misplaced it. I searched through stacks of books, my office, even my daughter's room. My trusty dictionary was missing. This book had helped me through many a paper in school, had provided hours of learning and fun, and reading it has made me really good at scrabble. My dictionary was sort of like an extension of me at times and other times I totally forgot it existed. Sort of like my faith. There have been many times when I have prayed believing that God would do something, and I've seen him do amazing things. But there are those seasons in life where I've gotten to comfortable and forgotten what I've needed faith for. It sort of got lost or misplaced. I couldn't remember where I had put it. When was the last time I used it anyway?

There is more then one way to find a definition so I checked the concordance of my bible and it was there I found faith. The definition read something like this: Faith - Reliance, Loyalty, complete trust in God. Complete trust in God got my attention. Did I trust him completely? In my head I do, but with my heart? Do I trust in God so completely that I believe the lame will walk? blind eyes will be open? the deaf will hear? We like to take these statements figuratively but for Jesus they were literal. Acts 3:16 says that faith in Jesus name healed the lame man. Matt 8:5-13 tells the story of the Roman officer whose faith was so great Jesus himself had never seen anything like it in all of Israel. The officer's servant was completely healed. Is Jesus astounded by my faith? The woman with the issue of blood simply touched Jesus' cloak. Her faith had made her well. Time and again we see Jesus say that faith had changed the circumstances in some one's life. I mean really change it, they were no longer the same. Do I have faith like that? Do I have complete trust in God to change my circumstances? And if I don't have the faith to believe that God can actually heal, set free and transform my life here on earth, how in the world can I believe what he said about eternity? I must find out more about faith.

Interestingly enough my name -Josephine- actually means "increasing in faith" so quite obviously I can get more of it if that's what I want. I've decided that I do want, actually I must have more faith if I want to keep living out the plans and purposes of God. I want to know more about this faith that casts mountains into the sea, and commands trees that bear no fruit to wither up and die. I want to know more about people's lives being totally changed and transformed because of their complete trust in God.

Romans 4:16 says that Faith is the key. Abraham became a father of many nations because he believed in the God who brings the dead back to life and who brings into existence what didn't exist before. Faith is the key. In order to see more of God in my life, I must have more faith. Bring it on.

James 1:3 reminds us that when your faith is tested your endurance has a chance to grow. And James 2:20 says that faith that DOES NOT result in good deeds is, well, useless. So in order to have more faith I 1)must be tested in it (not sure if I'm looking forward to that, I've never been very good with tests!) nonetheless, if I want to see more of God I must take the test. 2) my faith MUST result in good deeds. Then I know it is working, it's real.

I want to leave you with this story. I met a little girl named Faith once. She sparkled in the sunlight. Her long brown curly hair bounced on her back as she skipped and ran chasing the ball in front of her. She was beautiful and like all good mothers, her mother adored her. Faith was treasured.

I began to think what if Faith got lost. What if her mother was shopping and Faith just sort of got forgotten somewhere. Her mother is busy looking at a new pair of shoes someone in the family needed, the price difference between the two spring jackets she is holding or the varieties of motor oil her husband had asked her to pick up (who knew you needed a degree in motor oil to figure that out!). She needs to pick up a birthday present for her son's birthday party. Suddenly mother looks around and finds that Faith is gone. She calls softly, Faith is probably hiding she tells herself. She calls a little louder this time. No answer. Any of us mothers know that as the realization of your child gone missing sinks in it almost sends you into cardiac arrest. Faith's mother begins to feel panic fill her heart.

Gone. My Faith is gone. she whispers to herself. She can't believe that she was so consumed with her activities that she lost track of Faith.

Mother begins a frantic search. She looks in all the obvious places. She goes down every isle of the toy section, calling Faith's name. The book isle is next, Faith loves books. No Faith. Fellow shoppers notices her racing up and down isles hunting and searching. Someone asks what the problem is.

I've lost my Faith, she begins to weep, I'm lost without her.

Another shopper pipes up, I lost my dog once, didn't come home for almost a week.

Others begin to tell their stories of loss. Faith's mother is beginning to panic. Someone at the back of the crowd that's gathered shouts,

She doesn't want to hear about how long your cat was missing. She needs our help. To find her Faith.

A few folks nod, some leave. It's not their problem. Besides, they don't even know what the kid looks like.

Someone suggests retracing her steps, another goes to find a manager to see if Faith had been spotted.

Faith's mom can't stand still. She must look, search, she must find her Faith. She turns down one isle then the next. She hears the few that have volunteered to help calling Faith's name.

Motor Oil, she says to herself. But Faith wouldn't be there. She turns down one isle then the next. She sees brake fluid, car batteries, and....motor oil. She stops suddenly. Faith is sitting there on the bench beside the maintenance counter. Faith had been found. Faith's mother runs with arms open wide.

I've found my Faith, she shouts, I've found her.

The rest of the search party is elated. Smiles and laughters erupt. The maintenance guy smiles warmly,

She kept saying how her mother was lost and needed to be found. he said, So glad we found you.

Sometimes life is like that. We misplace our faith and we need those around us to help us find what we once had in our life, what we can't live without. I'd love it if you would share your stories about how your faith in God has gotten you through difficult situations, health crisis, relationship problems. You can post them on my blog, send them to me via facebook or email. My email address is earlfast@mts.net
I'm excited to here about how you are completely trusting God in your lives.

OOPPPS!

2009-04-01T07:29:00.000-07:00

My latest post is under "Judge Josephina". The title is "Never be the Same".

Judge Josephina

2009-03-24T18:54:00.000-07:00

I was being relieved of my job, I was told. Didn't need me anymore. He said he was going down to one judge. Supreme Judge. I wondered about retraining. I had been doing this for a long time, you know. Watching people, talking about what I had seen, heard. Offering my 'input' and 'advice'. When I saw that woman in the mall with her screaming kid, totally out of control, I just knew it must be bad parenting. Or when I saw this young punk with tattoos and earrings everywhere and that really rebellious look he had on his face, well, I could see trouble a mile away. Or my friend who married a jerk. I couldn't believe she did that! What was she thinking?

At the beginning of the year I became aware of the pink slip, although in truth,it's probably been sitting there waiting for me for some time. I asked him if he was sure he couldn't use the help. God's assurance was over-whelming. He'd even arrange for retraining. That was a relief. But when the training started I realized how unprepared I was for it. Give up EVERY preconceived idea about people I meet? Wow that was harder than I thought. Value each and every person? Even the really difficult ones? His answer was a resounding Yes! Yes! So I began to ask around. Maybe there was a different program I could hook up with. One that didn't require me to change so much. I found out quickly that there may well be other programs but the costs where to high. Things I didn't want to pay like giving up joy for anger and bitterness, love for tolerance and loathing. No, I wanted freedom and it looked like God's course might be really difficult,a lot of extra work and assignments, even accountability,but it brought the best returns, who can argue with that? So I jumped in, both feet. Every time I caught myself judging (which seemed to be every other minute!) I told myself I would NOT go there. I will not tell a lie. It was not easy but after several months I actually can tell you I don't judge nearly as often. It's getting better! The greatest part is that I'm loving people more. Even the "difficult" ones. I'm looking for the value in each person. There's always something worth praising, worth encouraging.

I recently read about the 101 percent principle. It goes something like this: You look for 1 thing you admire in a person and give them 100 percent encouragement for it. There may be those I need to dig a little deeper to find the 1 thing, but once I find that diamond in the rough who knew it was so valuable, beautiful?

I also remind myself that I too, could be some one's "difficult" person and hopefully as I'm extending this new found love and grace other's will try it out on me as well. I invite them to find the 1 thing that doesn't drive them crazy, and encourage that in my life. I need it!

I think of the woman of ill repute who extravagantly poured out her flask of expensive, precious perfume on the feet of Jesus. I can imagine that as she wept and wiped Jesus' feet he took her face in his hands than looked in her eyes, deep, to her very soul where he saw the finger print he had left there when he created her. "This woman will be remember for what she's done." he said. Not all the mistakes, screw ups and bad choices, but the 1 think, the act of love and worship. He spoke to that, encouraged that in her life.

That's what I want. That's how I want to treat others, value the God-print in their lives, because God values them.

So, I've officially been relieved of my duties. I never imagined that loosing that job could feel quite this good. I have to admit that some days I wake up with a gavel in my hand but I'm quickly reminded that it's not part of the new job description which is to love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind and soul and love your neighbor as your self.

Never be the Same

2009-03-24T08:11:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Riley got a phone call. As he sat there and listened I could see a small frown appear on his usually happy face.
"What's wrong?" I whispered. He shook his head and held up a finger. More listening. "Okay" He said "We might." Then he hung up the phone.

"What happened?" I asked. I had already figured out that it was the organization that we sponsor 5 children through.

He looked over at me with a kind of sad look. "We can't sponsor Noe anymore. His parents took him out of the program." Then he said, "I wish Michaela had got that phone call. That made me sad."

A few minutes later Michaela came into the room. "Who was that?" she asked.

Riley proceeded to tell her the information that he had received. She was upset too. She brought up the picture of Noe she had posted on her wall. Little "I Love You's" where written around the edge of the photograph. "What will happen to him now?" they both wondered.

Both Michaela and Riley do not have a steady income. Michaela is 12 and Riley is 10. Michaela saves her money from the babysitting she does. Riley carries wood to the house for five dollars a week. They sponsored Noe together.

I looked at them. I was amazed at how deeply this was touching them. I wondered if I should suggest sponsoring a different child. Both my kids had very limited cash flow. "The lady who called wanted to know if you wanted to sponsor another child?" I blurted. "Yes!" they both agreed. Little Arlin from Honduras has now joined our family.

As I watched yesterday morning unfold I learned a few things.

1) I need a lesson in giving from my kids. Regardless of how little money they make, helping someone have a better life is of utmost importance.

2)They see that not everyone in this world has the same opportunities as they do. They see the pain and poverty don't allow people be all they can be. They also see the way out. It troubled them that Noe was not allowed to be part of this Christian program because they know that God is really the only answer anyone of us has.

3) For all the years I've taught them that every person they meet is valuable, every person out there God created with a purpose in mind, they were actually getting it. I leaned I should never give up teaching my kids about the character of God even when it looks like they didn't hear me the first one thousand times.

And then I started thinking about the little girl in the picture above. I met her in October of 2008. She is from the Dominican Republic. Who was teaching her that she was valuable, that she had a "God-print" in her? Who was teaching her about the character of a God who loves her so very much? As I stood in the small two room metal clad hut her parents said that they were hoping that they could enroll her in Compassion's program very soon. Two of their other children were in the program, their lives were different, never be the same. They were in school, had medical attention, were learning about God.

Never be the same. I think about that. Someone took the time to see the "God-print" in those kids lives. Those sponsors believed that these kids lives were going to be different. I heard it first hand, their lives are differnt, never be the same.

I don't want to go through life looking out only for myself anymore. I don't want to think about the new car, my friend got, that I would love to have. I don't want to drive through the new development and wish my house was bigger. I don't want to walk through the mall and have to have that new outfit. God's given money (no matter how little or much we think it is) to me for a reason and it's not to promote my selfish wants. I have this verse posted in my house, in my kitchen so that I am reminded what to do with money. "Tell those rich in this world's wealth (that means all of us in North America even if you don't feel like your rich!) to quit being so full of themselves and so obsessed with money, which is here today and gone tomorrow. Tell them to go after God, who piles on all the riches we could ever manage - to do good, to be rich in helping others, to be extravagantly generous. If they do that, they'll build a treasury that will last, gaining life that is truly life. 1 Timothy 6:17-19 (MSG) So I'm telling you, I'm telling me be extravagantly generous the rewards are worth it! There are lives that need changing and people who need to know you care. Step out of yourself and change the world for the people around you. Maybe that means offering your time to a single mom who never gets out. Maybe helping a friend build their house that's months behind schedule. Perhaps it's sponsoring a child (check out Compassion.ca for more info). Maybe for some fostering a child in need is where your heart is, I know in Manitoba there is a huge need for good foster families. Whatever it is that you have in you to do, DO IT! There are lives that will never be the same, a world that will never be the same because of the choice you make!

The Greatest Love

2009-03-20T07:32:00.000-07:00

Many years ago I saw this picture in a store. The first time I saw it I could not stop the flood of tears that came racing down my cheeks. Something deep inside had been stirred by it. I quickly walked out of the store. Who cries over pictures? A while later, I went back to the same store. I was looking for a particular book. When I walked by the inspirational pictures, there it was again. This same picture. I was drawn to it and I found myself standing there weeping yet again. Two more times this happened. I told my mother-in-law about this picture and the effect it had on me. She went out and bought it, had it mounted and gave it to me for my birthday that year. When I opened the package, once again I burst into tears. I wondered how I would be able to have the picture in my house. The first few weeks I cried every time I looked at it. I still don't know what it was that stirred me so deep. But as time progressed I got used to the picture. And that was my greatest fear, that it would become common place in my life. That's exactly what happened.

Lately I've been thinking about the love of God. I've been studying the life of Christ for a number of months and I find myself wondering if he really loves ME. I know he loves the world collectively, John 3:16 is clear about that. We see God create the heavens and the earth, he saves nations, Jesus even died and rose again for the world. But what about me? Does he love me individually? Has the picture of his great love become common place in my life? Do I take it for granted that he does what he does because he does it for everyone?

So I decided I would ask God about it; I prayed. At first I was a bit befuddled (not sure if that's a word), he didn't really say much. But I persisted. I was a little nervous, I felt a bit like Job, but I had to know. I had to know that he loved me, individually not one of millions. And over the last week God has been reminding me of all the things he's done to show his great love to me. He reminded me of when Riley was born and how I held this tiny baby in my arms and I heard God whisper to me that every time a person is born another piece of God is revealed through that individual, each and everyone of us is created in his image. He reminded me that when Michaela had her hand slammed in the door, we thought for sure it was broken. Her tiny little hand black and unable to move. We prayed right then and there, by the morning the bruise was gone and she could move it. No pain. He reminded me that when we had little money and even less groceries someone showed up at the door with a box full of food. Somehow they had thought of us. He reminded me of what my life could have been like without him, painful, unforgiven, bitter and what it was like with him; hope filled, beautiful, full of promise. He reminded me of all the times I prayed and he answered. At the time I may not have liked the answer but looking back now I'm so glad that he said what he said. I'm reminded of Taylor's health crisis after we came back from Africa and how slowly, ever so surely his health returned. I'm reminded of the accident Earl and Taylor had two weeks ago. Rolled the truck at 90km/h. Both of them walked away without a scratch. The list goes on and on. I see that God's love is not depended on how he is feeling at the moment but God's love simply IS because that's who God is.

I needed more. I needed God to show me in scripture how he loved the individual, each person just the way they were. He showed me that his love was so great he couldn't possibly leave them the way he found them. He reminded me of the woman at the well, offering life-giving water and how she became a missionary to her village. He reminded me of Mary pouring out the expensive flask of perfume, anointing Jesus. How Jesus looked deep into her and saw what was so very precious inside of her. God brought me to the woman with the issue of blood and how she was instantly healed when she touched Jesus' cloak. He spoke to her and called her daughter. The children that sat with him and he blessed each one. The twelve disciples that really had nothing going for them except that Jesus picked them.
This list goes on as well.

There is no end to the love and goodness of God in my life. He has been faithful even when I have not. He has been trustworthy when I have been finicky. He has always been my biggest cheering squad even when I'm losing the game. He is for me, with me, standing right beside me BECAUSE HE LOVES ME.

I am convinced.

The Golden Rule

2009-03-16T08:11:00.000-07:00

We all know what the Golden Rule is. Do unto others as you would have them do to you. This past weekend I had the opportunity to live it like never before. I coach my daughter's volleyball team. Two weekends ago we played a game in Winnipeg. The girls were really struggling and tension was high. The score was embarrassing but we were slowly redeeming ourselves. One of the girls hit the ball over the net and it landed on the line right in front of the opposing team - IN. Point for us. From where the ref stood he could not see it clearly, he looked to the coach of the opposing team who simply shrugged her shoulders. He ruled it out. I couldn't believe what was happening, winning was more important than being honest. Right then and there I decided that if I found myself in the same situation I would do what I would have wanted done to me.

This last weekend I got my opportunity. More than one to be exact.

The team that we were playing was good. Real good. Our girls were not quite prepared for all the tips and hits that were coming their way. We were behind and there was a hit. We couldn't return it and it hit the line right in front of our bench. I saw the whole thing. It was in. The ref, from where he was standing could not see, so he looked at me. What was I to do? I thought of the four girls who were sitting on the bench looking at me. I thought of the six girls on the court looking at me. If it was called out we would get the point. We sure could use the point. I thought of my daughter who was playing and all the conversations we'd had recently about character. Good character and what that looks like. I gave the signal for IN. The ref looked at me twice, than gave the signal for IN. Lost point for us. The girls just stared. No one said anything. The game continued, we lost.

Next game. Our girls are on a role. This time we are winning. One of our girls is serving spectaculurly. Three serves over, then four. No one can return it. The fifth serve goes over and finds the hole. Five points from her serves. Trouble is that after a player has served five times the team must rotate and someone else serves. The next girl wasn't such a good server. What would I do? Tell the ref? He wasn't keeping track. It's really his problem that he can't remember how many serves our girl has had. Then I think about all these girls that I have come to love. I want the best for them. The best right now would be a good example. I hold up my hand, to motion 5 serves. The ref calls to rotate. This time I hear it from the bench. "What are you doing?" one of the girls asks me. I tell them that I'm treating the other team the way I would want to be treated. Fairly, honestly. Our next girl goes up for the serve. It doesn't make it over. Point for them.

Up until now I'm feeling pretty ok for being honest. If we are to win I want to win because we are the better team not because of dishonesty.

Game 3. We are now playing the team that refused to say our ball was in from the weekend before. The same coach is sitting there. Last weekend we got blown away by this team, not because they are so good but because we were so rattled. The same ref is standing in the reffing box. The same play happens, but this time it happens on our side of the court. They hit a ball. It lands on the line right in front of me. A flash back happens. I remember what happened to us last week. What would I do? Twice now I've been honest. Both times it cost us points. Now everyone is watching me, not just the girls on our team but their parents, the opposing team and their parents. And the ref. Then I thought of my daughter again. Character. I motioned the IN signal. Point for them. One parent told me I was to honest. The girls moaned. The ref laughed. A strange sensation came over me. I felt weird. I felt like everyone was watching me thinking, "What will she do next?" I began to question myself, Was I doing the right thing?, Did I really need to be that honest? It simply tore at me. I was doing what was right and everybody thought I had fallen off my rocker. Some parents asked me what I was thinking. I told them I was treating the opposing team the way I wanted to be treated. They patted me on the back like I was a disillusioned child still learning the ropes of life - Someday I would see that honesty was not all it was cracked up to be.

This is not simply about honesty but about character. Character that will hopefully make this world a better place to live in. I had 10 girls watching me that day, not to mention their parents and all the opposing teams and refs. My simple action of treating someone else with value and respect caused quite a stir. What if I made a point every day to value those around me? To let them know that they are important, their life has meaning. I think the world might change if we began to treat each other like that. John Maxwell says it wonderfully in his book There's no such things as "Business" Ethics, "The desire to be loved and valued is perhaps the deepest need of every person." I can do something about that. I can value those around me.

Our volleyball team had the opportuntiy to play for third place. We are one of the newest teams in this league so I was quite surprised that we made it as far as we did. I was proud of our girls for working so hard. The game was thrilling. The scores were close. In the end we did not win. And the girls were very disappointed. I told them to be proud of themselves, they had come so far in such a short season. The skills they had learned and the friendships they made make them winners already. As I was getting ready to leave a parent came up to me to thank me for coaching her daughter and to let me know her daughter had so much fun playing volleyball on our team. And as she finished talking one of the refs said, "You did a GREAT job!"

More than anything, I hope my "Great Job" was living my convictions on my sleeve. I hope it gave people pause to think about doing the right thing in their lives. I want it to have left a seed in every heart there, the next time they are faced with a question of integrity I hope they remember what they saw. I hope that others will catch the vision of living lives of integrity because it is a powerful light in a world so dark. I never would have believed it until it actually happened to me. I feel priviledged to be able to live the example so my daughter can see that choosing the right thing may be difficult but it is the right thing no matter what.

2009-03-10T10:46:00.000-07:00

The other night I awoke with a start. I had a dream that seemed to have deep significance. I was standing in a concrete room. The walls were huge and thick. I noticed that there were windows so I made my way over to the window and looked out. I saw water, a river maybe. Suddenly I realized that the room I was in was in a wall. It seemed that I was in a hydro dam. As I looked out at the water again I realized that the water levels were very low and I began to think about drought, how nothing would grow if the water levels were not brought back up to where they needed to be. I became quite taken with the fact that there was not enough water. What would the people do? I thought to myself. How will they survive without the necessary water? I was getting quite worried. All of the sudden I heard a noise and looked behind me. The thick walls of the concrete room I was in began to leak. Water started to seep into the room. Suddenly i realized that I was standing in the part of the wall that was holding back all the water. I was terrified that the wall would begin to crumble but yet as I looked through the window I knew that if life was to be sustained the wall would have to be removed and the water would have to flow freely into the area where drought was threatening. I felt caught in the middle. If the wall were to stay in tack the lack of water would kill all life but I would be safe. If the wall were to break and the water would crash through I wasn't sure what was going to happen to me. It was then that I woke up.

As I've been thinking about this the last couple of days I believe that God was showing me something very important. He was showing me that if I continue to stay where I think it is safe for me, there will be no life in it. Things that seem good will dry up and wither away. The landscape of my life will be left parched, cracked and dry. But if I choose the refreshing, life giving, even powerful water that sits behind the wall; the wall must come down. And if the wall comes down, I'm not sure what will happen to me. But I know it is the only way that life can continue.

Today the rest of this post will be a prayer and if you feel that you have a wall in your life that is prohibiting the power of God to move, to wash over you and bring you life I'd love it if you'd join with me.

Heavenly Father, I thank you that you are so good to me. That you long for me to have a full, meaningful, awesome life. A life that exemplifies your kingdom. A life that reflects the life of Jesus Christ. I pray that you would begin to disassemble, brake down, smash through the wall that has stopped me from experienceing your goodness. Help me to forgive those I need to forgive; help me to humble myself. Help me to treat others with value and acceptance; the way that you treat them. Most importantly help me to fix my eyes on you, O God. Remind me that the beauty of life comes from you alone. I cannot make beautiful happen without you. I want to be washed over, changed by your power. All my anxiety and fear I place at your feet. Fill me with all I need to see you move in my life. I thank you God that you are trustworthy, full of love and patience, kind and generous. I place my full hope in you alone. Amen

I suppose now we watch and see what God does.

I think I feel something crumbling.

The Great Adventure

2009-03-04T15:24:00.000-08:00

I just have one questions for you, he said. Do you know how to have an adventure?

I thought about that questions for the rest of the day. What does it mean to have an adventure? Do I know how to have one? I think of Columbus whose house I visited on my recent trip to Santo Domingo. He was an adventurer. He risked his life to see what was on the other side of the world. It was a quest that would not leave him and he risked it all to follow it. I'm sure he spent months thinking, pondering, planning what to bring, who had the expertise he needed, what would life be like on the other side, how could he prepare for it. It took time and energy to get ready for the voyage. The preparation was just as vital as the actual adventure. The day came for him to board his ship and start out. What a feeling that must have been. Excitement must of coursed through his veins along with a terrifying feeling that he had no idea what he had just gotten himself into. He was as prepared as he could be and ready for whatever came his way. He could not possibly know all the difficulties he would encounter, but it did not stop him. He must do what he was created for.

Sometimes I forget what I'm created for. I forget that there's an adventure out there with my name on it. I get stuck in my cave, only concerned for me, myself and occasionally Irene but only if she is willing to help me. I get sad, even lonely because I forgot that life was meant to be an adventure. I hunker down and try not to disturb anything. And then I think to myself, "Is this all there is to life? It seems so meaningless."

I hear a small voice in the midst of my misery "Ah dearest Josephina, princess of the most high, perhaps you have forgotten about the adventure?" (I think it is said with a french accent) The adventure? I think to myself. Of course. I must prepare. Slowly I lift my head up and begin to see the daylight. I remind myself of the greatest Adventurer of All; how he came to earth in human form, stepped way out of his comfort zone, hung out with people. He changed lives, healed the sick, cast out oppressive demons, fed the hungry,clothed the naked, gave everlasting water to the thirsty; taught those who wanted to know more; taught those even if they didn't want to know more. And when his time had come, he turned to those following; to me and said Now the adventure is yours. I've showed you, prepared you. Now it's your turn. (Mark 16:15-20)

Today my question for you is this: Do you know how to have an adventure?

btw - The question came from my 9 year old son, Riley. He was asking his friend if he knew where his penguin had gone on an adventure in the online game he plays. He never found out. His penguin has been listed as M.I.A..

Bananas and Berries

2009-03-03T06:23:00.000-08:00

For years my most favorite thing to eat for breakfast was toast. Toast with honey. Toast with jam. Plain toast. Cinnamon and Sugar toast. I loved toast. I could hardly imagine breakfast without toast. Two weeks ago something changed. I tried a protein shake. With bananas and berries. It was AMAZING! Delicious! Wonderful! So smooth and creamy. My tummy gurgled in delight! As a matter of fact I'm drinking one as I write! Some days we run out of bananas and berries at our house. On those days I haul out the toaster, slide in two pieces of rye bread and wait for them to turn golden brown, smother them with butter and jam and take a big bite. And you know what? I find myself wishing for bananas and berries. I've tasted something better then this dried out piece of bread and I don't really care for it anymore.

So often I find myself like that in life. I get used to doing the same thing, thinking the same way, even experiencing God in the same way. It's comfortable, I know what to expect, I even like it that way. I don't bother to try something different. But what if I would? What if instead of simply sing a song in worship to God, I began to spin, shout, and dance (it's completely biblical!)? What if simply reading my bible, I would contemplate it, study it, obey it? What if prayer looked more like an activity, stretched out on my face, lifting my hands, speaking out loud instead of a nap? Psalm 34:8 says "Taste and see that the Lord is good. Oh the joys of those who trust in him." I want to taste something better then what I'm used to. It might mean that I have to change what I "eat". It might mean that I need to be open to more of God the way God wants it. Even now I find that every once and a while I go back to some of the same things. They were good for a while, they brought me the nourishment I needed at the time but God is moving me forward. I am being asked to come closer to the mouth of God so that I can hear his whispers. These old ways have become like dried bread to me. I need my vision renewed and my heart refreshed.

I need God's "bananas and berries" and when I've gotten what I need from that I will need to move forward again..perhaps mangoes and peaches! All I know is that I can't stay stuck in one place doing the same thing over and over again. I must make the effort to find God. "Taste and see" are action words, they required something of me. I can't simply wait for someone to change my diet I have to be the one to initiate it, to search after it.

I'm hungry for something different, something deep, something incredibly Godly. I want to keep being a part of that smorgasbord of God's goodness. I want to keep tasting and seeing what God is doing, how he pours out his goodness in every situation. I want more of whatever it takes to taste and see God in every area of my life.

Coffee and Community

2009-02-25T20:07:00.000-08:00

Every Monday morning I wait for it. I chase my kids out the door at 8:14 a.m., encourage them to have fun and make good choices and then I wait. If it hasn't happened by 8:30 I know it's my turn. But just as I reach for the phone it rings. Ahhh, she hasn't forgotten. I'm relieved. I answer quickly. Your house today? I'll be right over!

Weekly, mostly on Mondays this plays out in my life. My sister calls, one of us goes to the other's house and we pound back the coffee. And conversation. It's wonderful. We talk about how big our kids are getting or what crazy thing they did this past week that almost got them killed and how thankful we are that they're still around to yell at. We talk about how wonderful our husbands are but if they'd only pick up their dirty laundry or the kids it would make life that much easier. We talk about peeing in the shower, in the pool vowing,while we laugh, never to go swimming with the other! We talk about painful relationships and what we should do through the tears that trickle down our cheeks. We talk about God and what he wants from us and what we want from him. We talk about our favorite friends, favorite colors, favorite foods. We laugh when we confess that we were the dragon lady that morning and tell the other we want to be different. Next week the story repeats itself. Over coffee we answer all the worlds difficult questions like why children die, why most of the world lives in poverty, why we want to go back to work and we we don't. We kiss each other's kids and say we are thankful for ours and what will we do so that someone else can feel warm and safe today. We ponder questions like "How much is to much coffee?", "Why are teenage girls so mean?", "Will President Obama be good for the world?" We talk about teaching our kids how to pray and how we've learned because they don't want to. After two and a half hours one of us will get up and leave. We have a family that needs us. A world who is waiting for us but just doesn't know it. We see each other to the door, telling the other "we should do this more often, maybe a bible study or prayer group. The more the merrier. The more laughter, the more tears, the more confession, the more we heal. With others in our lives, the better moms, wives, sisters, friends we become. It's amazing what a cup of coffee can spark!

Desperate for Summer...and other things

2009-02-22T06:46:00.000-08:00

"It's not that I MIND living the majority of my life in frozen tundra fighting polar bears for the occasional seal, it's just that it's kind of hard to get enough water when you have to lick the shards of ice that fall from the kitchen faucet."
-one tough Manitoban

The other day I told Earl that I wanted, no, needed tanning minutes. He looked up serenely from the dishes he was doing, "How many would you get?" he asked. "Just enough to keep me out of the looney bin," I told him. It's been a loooong winter! And I am getting desperate. Something must change! I catch myself daydreaming about sand in all the wrong places, mosquito bites, oppressive heat and I can't wait for it! All of the sudden emergency orange vests are looking stylish and goggles look better then sunglasses. I'm tempted to walk around in my bathing suit; I'm sure no one will notice as long as I keep my boots on as I trudge across the water. This winter has been long, although I did get a break from it when I went to Phoenix. That trip made me even more desperate. Desperate for a Change.

What if I became that desperate for God? Giving up my reputation, what people think of me (maybe people aren't thinking about me!) What if I were willing to look like a fool just to feel him near? Would I do it? Would I worship him uninhibited because life without him is really no life at all? Would I lay it all out there, the tough, rough and even beautiful stuff, just so I could be close to him, so I could know him? I think about King David, when he danced so hard his clothes fell off. His wife was disgusted, she didn't think much of him after that. But, he didn't care, he'd risk it all over again for God. I think of the Psalms that have been written, songs from deep places, most people are scared to go, scared to tell God about. Someone decided that he just had to tell God how he was feeling, all of it, the good the bad, the ugly. Leave nothing out, totally open. And God decided to show him just how great the great I AM is. So great, that when you become desperate for him, willing to bare it all, God defends you. He fights for you. He washes you. He forgives you.

In my desperation I find myself longing for strange things of the spirit, like disciple and obedience. Things that I normally shy away from. At the beginning of this year 2009 I had this one crazy thought. What if I would obey God everytime I felt him talking to me or telling me to act in some way? What would life look like? Could I do it? Could I be more concerned about pleasing God than others around me or myself? King David decided to make God the centre of his life. Life wasn't always easy, David didn't always make good choices. But God never, ever left him. What would David's life been like if he wouln't have placed God there, in the centre? Maybe Saul, David's predessor was a good example of that. Although God annointed Saul to be king, Saul never placed God in the centre. Saul never sold out to God and His ways, he was more concerned about others and himself. His life was sad and pathetic, jealousy had made him a raging lunitic.

The risks are to great without the great I AM. Living my life desperate for God is really the only logical option I have. Scary? No kidding. But worth it? "Life-changing" worth it, "Never-be-the-same" worth it. "Change-the-world" worth it. The way I see it is if I really want to live life to the maximum, if I want to get all there is out of it I've got to live desperate, crazy, breathlessly desperate for the one who created me.

Desert Life

2009-02-13T13:22:00.000-08:00

On my recent trip to Phoenix, I fell in love with the desert. It's dry, barren landscape is full of life and beauty. Prickly-pear cactus so sweet you can make jelly. Mesquite trees commonly referred to as the "tree of life" for it's ability to be used for medicine, food, building, firewood and just about anything else you can think of. Two thousand different types of vegetation live in the desert. Blossoms that can be eaten, cactus that can loose 2/3's of their water and still live. Saguaro that live to be 200 years; getting their first blossom after 50 years and their first arm after 60. The desert is filled with life. For many generations people have lived in the desert. It has been their home. It's about the last place I would have expected someone to make a home but the desert is welcoming to those who know it, who have an intimate knowledge of their surroundings, of the life that exists there.

Dry, thirsty and wandering doesn't sound like a place I want to visit but in life we all make the trek there occasionally. After my recent visit I wonder to myself if perhaps I've placed to much focus on my own discomfort, the heat, the isolation I'm feeling while wondering in the desert. Perhaps I've missed what can truly bring life in those desolate moments. If I take my focus off myself in that place will I become aware of the resources flourishing around me? Will I notice the rugged beauty that unfolds about me? Will I notice that there are others in the desert as well? Perhaps the desert isn't so awful after all? Instead of simply expecting the things of life to simply be on hand, to be right there when I want them, I have to go looking for them. I have to work hard to learn how to live here, to find patience in the midst of frustration, to find peace in the midst of chaos, to find joy in the midst of sorrow. I believe the desert has a powerful effect on my life, my character will be molded as I become tuned into what God is whispering to me through the resources he has left in the desert; a tree of life that can heal wounds, offer sustenance, build a strong sturdy home.

A sign I read regarding life in this dry, arid place said that for generations knowledge has been past down about life in the desert, what to eat, how to find water, which plant will stop a fever or cure a snake bite. Someone made sure to pass along information so that desert life could continue, could be enjoyed, could be marvelled at for all its ruggedness and beauty. Perhaps that's my responsibility too. To pass this information along; God lives in the desert places as well. He offers us hope and life in a place we thought had little of either. He is more concerned about my heart then my comfort. He wants me to know that no matter what life throws my way HE IS MORE THEN ENOUGH;my tree of life.

We're Back!

2009-02-12T08:48:00.000-08:00

February is the month of LOVE

Holidays are wonderful! Seeing new things, relaxing, doing what I want to do when I want to do it! (Depending on who you are traveling with this may not be the case!) Earl and I spent 10 days hanging out. No interruptions from children! No one to entertain or feed or change or parent. It felt a bit surreal! We've never done this before for such a long period of time and I have to say that I am now addicted! We walked for miles, laughed ourselves silly, enjoyed each other's company, talked about nothing, talked about everything, smiled, looked into each other's eyes, kissed, hugged, and .....! So when he suggested going for a hike up Squaw Peak (a mountain in Phoenix) I adoringly followed. You have to understand that for 16 years I have been hiking with Earl. I have never enjoyed hiking, I don't like bugs, and I don't like getting lost! Nonetheless, I hiked up that mountain, a few times threatening to throw myself from the top. And then I told him that I hate hiking. I'd rather ride my bike 100kms than walk up a mountain for 2kms. He looked surprised. I didn't think I had hid my feels about hiking that well. He offered to turn around several times after my confession. But I declined, I was determined. After all there where grandmothers and children on the trail, if they could do it so could I! So we hiked on. We talked, told stories, took pictures. The trail was rough and rocky; my legs burned, my knees hurt. Earl scampered up the mountain like a mountain goat, not even breathing hard. (That part made me upset! I've been cycling for months and found myself panting hard, he doesn't work out at all and is fine.) Our way back down was tougher then the way up if that's possible. And when we got back to the car I collapsed in the front seat and demanded a frappaccino from Starbucks! We were exhausted! After the frappaccino we sat by the pool at our hotel, we soaked our weary muscles in the hot tub. We enjoyed the feeling of being spent and accomplishing something difficult.

The funny thing is that even though I hate hiking, I enjoyed watching Earl do something he loves to do. I got to be right there to see that big smile as we saw the view of the city from different points on the mountain. Hiking may not be my favorite activity but I got to do it with my favorite person in the whole world and that in itself made it all worth it! I love you, honey!

The Reason I Live

2009-01-30T07:10:00.000-08:00

In just 2 days I'm leaving. On holidays that is. Earl and I, for the first time in 16 years, will be gone from our children for longer than 5 days. I forgot how much work getting ready for a holiday is. This whole week I've been running. Chasing my life around, making sure all the lose ends are tied up before I leave. It's exhausting. I've had no time for anything but running after the next thing that needs to be done. And then this morning I popped in a CD my friend gave me. I began to remember the reason I live. It's not to chase my life around, to be so exhausted I flop into bed and nite and dread the morning when it all starts again. The reason I live is to worship him, to be with God. To have him wash over me, to calm the waves, to fill me with joy. That's what I was created for, to walk hand in hand, to be surrounded by him, to be guided by him and not my crazy life. I never want to forget life is all about him.

2009-01-26T10:12:00.000-08:00

Every morning I wake up, drag my body out of bed (I'm not a morning person) and walk by the grey beast with dread (no, not my husband!) It just seems to sit there, at the foot of my bed, taunting me. "You made a committment, five days a week." Ugh, I sigh to myself as I stumble out of my room and into the morning rush. I'm to tired today, I tell myself, My muscles hurt. An hour later the kids leave for school. I walk back into my room and the grey beast has not moved. It simply sits there and stares. "It's time", the thing reminds me. Fine, I grudgingly go and change. I jump on it's back and begin to peddle. Pure agony. My muscles are not awake, my legs burn the first 3kms and I tell myself that I'm not a quitter, I can do it. Then I envision myself falling off and hitting the floor. 5kms pass and I tell myself that I've gone a third of the way, quite possibly I CAN do it. My husband sticks his head in the room. You can do it, he says to me. Reaffirming what I just thought, pushing me on. As I slowly pick up the pace I marvel at how, just a few kms back, I would have done anything to get off. But now, I'm feeling good. As a matter of fact, I'm feeling great! What's 10kms?! Nothing! I go for 15. By 12, I think about the floor again but I'm almost there. I can't quit now! I peddle a little harder. I'm thinking, Breaking yesterday's time won't be that hard. I hold on with all my might, my legs pumping faster and faster. I scan through the read outs; pulse, level, calories, time, kms. I push myself the last 2kms. I can see the finish line. I imagine the finish line in my minds eye. My legs burn worse then in the beginning but this time I KNOW I will finish. I will finish strong, better then yesterday. I can see how my other goals are going to be realized because I work at this one. Four seperate 5k runs this summer. From there who knows? A half marathon on day? That's what I remind myself of every morning I don't want to ride. There is a greater purpose then simply riding 15kms every day.

How many things in my life are like that? I don't always take notice of why I do something. Sometimes I go through the motions and don't realize the greater purpose of it. I look at the race of life and think about falling to the floor. No one will notice. It's not that important. I want it to be easy, comfortable, no pain. President Theodore Roosevelt said "There has not yet been a person in our history who led a life of ease whose name is worth remembering." Ouch! In other words, "No pain, No gain!" But, just like my bike riding expeirence, I may not like the initial moments. I find that the longer I'm on my bike the better it gets. Easy?! Not really. But I get this euphoric feeling. My body is working together like a well oiled machine. It feels GOOD! I see the benefits; my health is getting better, my endurance is increasing, I see possibilites opening up before me, all because I get on my bike. Stepping up to the challenge of life isn't always easy. Sometimes we walk by and think "Ugh, I'm to tired, to worn out, I'll quit before I get to far." This is were we need to dig deep. Hebrews 12:1b,2 says "And let us run with endurance the race that God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, on whom our faith depends from start to finish." Sometimes in running the race we get so caught up with the course that we forget where our eyes should be - on Jesus. He is our strength. He is more then enough for every situation we face. The benefits are out of this world; I'm feeling better, looking better, have better endurance for the next leg of the race. I feel GOOD!