Quiet Life

What God Has Promised

2012-01-23T11:05:00.001-07:00

I was thinking this morning about how I so often number my trials instead of my blessings. How quick and easy it is to start making a list of all the things that go wrong but how long it takes to make a list of things for which to be grateful.

One of my friends just lost her sister in law who died unexpectedly. My friend is grieving so much, and my heart breaks for her. When I am in need of comfort, I often think of the hymn, "What God Hath Promised" by Annie Johnson Flint.

God hath not promised skies always blue,
Flower-strewn pathways all our lives through;
God hath not promised sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.

God hath not promised we shall not know
Toil and temptation, trouble and woe;
He hath not told us we shall not bear
Many a burden, many a care.

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.

God hath not promised smooth roads and wide,
Swift, easy travel, needing no guide;
Never a mountain, rocky and steep,
Never a river, turbid and deep.

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.

You can listen to the modern version of the music here.

While the words of this song are themselves an encouraging reminder, I came across Annie's biography and some other poetry she wrote and realize she, more than anyone, probably struggled to stay positive. She suffered terribly from crippling arthritis, yet her songs are uplifting and encouraging.

Annie Johnson Flint was born on Christmas eve in 1866, at Vineland, NJ. Her mother died when she was three, soon after the birth of her sister. Her father sent the two girls to live with a widow of a Civil War friend, but the woman had few resources and two children of her own. As a result, the Johnson girls were unwelcome and neglected. A neighbor saw the situation and introduced Annie’s father to a Mr. and Mrs. Flint, who had no children and wanted to adopt the two girls. Annie's father was gravely ill and consented, dying about a year later. At the age of eight, Annie came to faith in Jesus Christ. When she was nine, she began to put words together in rhyme and rhythm, and by age twelve she was setting poems to music. As a teenager she wanted to become a concert pianist and composer, but when she was in her early twenties the Flints both died, leaving her without means to continue her education.

Shortly before her adoptive parents’ deaths, Annie started having trouble with arthritis and became unable to play the piano, so she was left with one mode of expression, writing poetry, as a replacement for her musical ambitions. In addition, Annie’s sister was not well and could not help take care of her, and at the age of 23, Annie was unable to continue working and in less than five years she could not even walk. Left without financial support and personal care, she would push a pen through her bent fingers or use her knuckles to strike typewriter keys, though often in great pain, to produce poems for use on greeting cards, on wall hangings, and in magazines. "What God Hath Promised," written in 1919, is one of her best-known poems and she also wrote “He Giveth More Grace.” She died Sept. 8, 1932, at Clifton Springs, NY.

In spite of her immense suffering, Annie’s poems are bubbling over with the joy of life and praise for the love of God. Her life shows that in the midst of suffering, one can still name blessings and gifts. When there is rain, dark storm clouds and pain in my life, can I follow in her footsteps?

Lord, may I rely on your grace to do so.

Gifts: Smooth, Wrinkled, Unfolded

2012-01-23T00:43:00.001-07:00

68. The smooth gliding geese float on chinook winds under sunset clouds.

69. The sidewalk and street were smooth and cleared of snow, thanks to the neighbour and the city plow.

70. B's wrinkled shirt emerged from the washer, covered in small, clingy shreds of paper: the remains of a store receipt left in a pocket. It clung to the dark blue plaid flannel like velcro. The gift today? He asked my help. I gave it willingly, used the lint roller to pick off the unwelcome confetti. A team effort. Time together, doing the work of the marriage.

71. The telescope I bought him for Christmas unfolded nicely out of the box. The instructions were tiny but adequate. I assembled. He disposed of the cardboard and plastic wrapping.

72. Bonus: the gift of motivation. B insisted we finish packing away Christmas decor. We worked together. He did the heavy lifting and vacuumed.

73. Reminders all around today that love always triumphs.

Joy Dare: Can you name 1,000 gifts?

This is "a dare to live fully right where you are."

I started naming them right here.

Twisted Gifts

2012-01-21T13:40:00.001-07:00

Here's a twisted pile of thoughts, the gifts they bring and my best photos of twisted things.

56. I love Saturday mornings. No deadlines. No pressure. Time to sleep in. Cuddle with my warm puppy dog curled up beside me breathing soft.

57. A husband who cleans up after our sick puppy dog.

It's been a busy couple of days with long work hours and evening events Thursday and Friday. 58. Our life group. 59. Invitation to dinner with three other couples. Great food, visiting, laughter, games. However, the past two days have left no free time to blog. Another reason to love Saturday: 60. Time to catch up.

I participate casually in a Facebook group called "Canada's Photo Contest" where a different theme is presented each week. Members post an original photo related to the theme. Then all members can vote for their favourites. Photo with the most votes wins.

Reviewing my nearly 5,000 photos brings so many gifts to mind.Would you like to see my considerations for what to post from my own gallery? This week, the theme is TWISTED.

First, the staircase inside the Arc de Triomphe. Gift 61: Climb the heights on twisting turns with terrific friends, the Shields family

At the Louvre, Gift 62: So much marvellous art collected in one place. Gift 63: The powerful, twisting body of The Rebellious Slave, one of two left unfinished by Michelangelo. The other was The Dying Slave. Gift 64: a sculpture that can capture such exquisite and torturous emotion. Gift 65: Discovering the website for the Louvre with searchable databases of its collections. And the page that revealed some of the artist's soul:

However, non-finito was a recurrent theme with Michelangelo, who played on the opposition between the shine on the smooth, impeccable body of the Dying Slave, and the rough surface of raw marble. In his quest for absolute truth in art, he abandoned a work when he felt he could not attain his ideal. He thus left the marks of his tools (hammers, chisels, rasps, gradines and trepans) clearly visible — living traces of his tireless fight with raw material, which he worked relentlessly in his quest to liberate the figure imprisoned within.

International Monument at Dachau Concentration Camp. Created by Yugoslavian sculptor and holocaust survivor, Nandor Glid. Gift 66: Learning that, given the right circumstance, all persons are capable of unthinkable evil and any person is capable of extraordinary perseverance. Gift 67: It is in darkness that the light shines most bright.

Joy Dare: Can you name 1,000 gifts?

This is "a dare to live fully right where you are."

I started naming them (again) right here.

Three Gifts from God's Word

2012-01-18T23:19:00.001-07:00

Gift 53: The unforced rhythms of grace:

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.
Matthew 11:28-30 MSG

Gift 54: A Quantum Leap to the top of Mazlow's Hierarchy

If your first concern is to look after yourself, you'll never find yourself. But if you forget about yourself and look to me, you'll find both yourself and me.
Matthew 10:39 MSG

Gift 55: A Primer on True Worship

When you come before God, don't turn that into a theatrical production... All these people making a regular show out of their prayers, hoping for stardom! Do you think God sits in a box seat?

Here's what I want you to do: Find a quiet, secluded place so you won't be tempted to role-play before God. Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God, and you will begin to sense his grace.
Matthew 6:5-6 MSG

There's more. Oh, so much more. But the night is late and I have piles to go and need my sleep.

Acceptance

2012-01-18T22:15:00.001-07:00

Lethbridge Herald. Photo by David Rossiter.

Is it cold where you are? Or beautiful like my nephew has right now on the beach in Maui? I've got minus 30 coming my way, with wind chills it's minus I-don't-even-want-to-know-how-cold. I accept this. There's no changing it. NO use in complaining. This is life. Where I live.

Why is it so relatively easy to accept the reality of the weather - even extreme conditions - but to still actively resist accepting other realities. Like not accepting that others will disappoint you. Making the choice to NOT forgive because someone behaved differently toward me than I wanted or thought I deserved? Does all discontent and selfishness eventually lead you down that path?

The choice is Resistance. To not change. We dig in our heels. It has to be the way I say it should be or else it's someone else's fault.

What's your bad weather reality in the landscape of your human relationships? If you could simply accept that this is life, where you live, could that make it possible to find peace in the midst of that storm? Or would you rather live with discontent in your heart because it is easier than trying to face an unknown adventure with our ever so comprehensive awareness of how utterly disappointing humanity can be?

Thing is, we know we can't change the weather. Not without cloud seeding airplanes at least. But somehow we still feel deep down - at least I do, on occasion - that we can change or control another person. This is a recipe for frustration.

Let it go. In acceptance lies peace.

Accept that I am the way I am and by the grace of God I will not stay this way. Do it differently tomorrow. Accept that I cannot change my circumstances but I can change my attitude.

Okay. Let me start with this moment. I need more sleep. I always need more sleep. So I am going to bed on time. For once. With my regular pattern, this bedtime should provide 8 hours of sleep.

I can accept that.

Joy in surprising places

2012-01-17T22:40:00.001-07:00

Gift 49. Tonight I saw a light bulb go on for a friend. She'd been beating herself up and another friend helped her see it was the voice of the accuser, the enemy, trying to beat her down. It is such a gift to see women helping support each other.

Gift 50. Happiness: my face when I sent an email with statistics on a project long postponed because of workload. What gets measured gets done.

Gift 51. A colleague affirmed what I write here. I share my heart, she takes it tenderly and added to the beauty by her own reading.

Gift 52: The joy of discovering interesting people. Two dear long time friends and one new creative soul during a pre-Christmas visit to Rosebud. He shared a story, ignited our creativity, touched our soul.

Self-Diagnosis and Joy

2012-01-15T00:29:00.001-07:00

This is an off day. Sometimes being joyful just isn't what I want to do. I think it's a chemical imbalance. Or, perhaps it is dysthymia. I have been doing some reading on this condition. It was suggested by someone who knows me well as a possible diagnosis. Basically, it's long-term, low grade depression. It often goes for decades before someone seeks treatment.

That's a big "hmmm" for me.

So, I see my doctor in a couple of weeks and I will discuss with him possible treatment plans. In the meantime, I continue to count gifts.

44. It was 4°C or 39.2°F. In other words, beautiful.

45. Changing the light fixtures on our back deck. This is a double gift. a) I have the ability, knowledge and desire to install the fixtures and b) we have the funds and location which make it possible to do quickly without hesitation.

46. An extraordinary measure of God's grace was two phone calls and one Facebook message from women who love me and share a common bond as mothers of similar sons to my own. I asked their advice and they gave me their undivided attention and counsel.

47. Another grace is women who love me who may have daughters or no children at all. I am blessed.

48. I continue to be blessed by our son and his maturity, thought processes, loyalty to friends, ability to memorize, to plan, to create music, to care for those less fortunate. He makes such a delightful contribution to life.

Oh joy, that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee.
I trace the rainbow through the rain
and feel the promise is not vain,
that morn shall tearless be.

-George Mattheson

1000 Gifts: Three sounds I hear

2012-01-13T12:52:00.001-07:00

I continue to name 1000 Gifts.

41. The roaring of the wind I almost wanted to name as wicked. It is not. It is a gift. After my conversation last night with dear friend, Jackie, I know it can be Healing Wind from the hand of our all powerful God.

John 3:8 The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.

42. I hear water. Trickling through the humidifier to moisten the dry, winter air that steals moisture from everything in this home. This is a gift: to bring water to dry places, to nourish, to sustain.

43. I hear the soft snuffles of my dog, Bernadette. Aging and ageless in her blindness and blind devotion. She is in pain, nearly deaf and she is still unconditional love.

1000 Gifts: Above, Below, Beside

2012-01-12T22:39:00.000-07:00

Yesterday would have been my father's birthday. Jan. 11, 1917. He's been gone since Nov. 22, 2002. It was an incredibly dark day for me, unrelated to my father. However, my Father gave me the sunrise. Again. and Again. His light in my darkness. His mercy is new every morning.

I continue to name 1000 Gifts.

38. A gift above me: my father in heaven, finally knowing my Father in Heaven.
39. A gift below me: A comfortable chaise lounge upon which to sit and meditate and view the view and write the gifts.
40. A gift beside me: my puppy dog, who is not a puppy but a grandma nearing the end of her life. She comforts me with her presence. She adores me with her eyes. She follows me everywhere. I matter to her. She is unconditional love.

Looking for Light

2012-01-11T09:27:00.004-07:00

I continue to name 1000 Gifts.

35. A prayer for light, and the grace I received in a blog post from Serena Woods:

The sun will rise and dissipate this dark night that scares and torments you. I have seen the sunrise. I have felt the warmth of new life on my face and I am here to tell you that it’s real.

36. Aging. It is a grace that reminds me how much living is left to do.

37. Again, another grace from the "grace is for sinners" blog,

Job submitted his fate and every speck of hope and doubt leading up to it, to God. It was complete and total submission because Job knew who God really was. He told God, “Even if you kill me, I’ll still trust you.”

Do you know God like that?

If God is in control, then your circumstances are God’s will. You can’t submit like that if you don’t know God like that.

I wanna know God like that. Does that mean God will allow the trials of Job in my life? Maybe. Can I come to the place where I can say, "Even if you kill me, I'll still trust you." ???

I guess that's a choice, isn't it?

Lord, increase my faith.

1000 Gifts: Sour, Sweet, Just. Right

2012-01-10T11:19:00.001-07:00

Naming the gifts, even when they don't appear to be so:

31. Sour gift. Tennis Elbow. What is the gift? It slows me down. Makes me more body-aware. Requires me to choose what is most effective use of my time and limited strength. Helps me realize when one member is wounded, how it cripples the effective working of the rest of the body. (I Cor. 12:26)

32. Sweet gift: Bill Evans Essential Jazz Masters album with 39 songs acquired from iTunes for only $4.99.

33. Just right gift. Snow in January.

34. Right gift: Freedom Session.

1000 Gifts: Hold, Walk, Sit

2012-01-09T09:32:00.001-07:00

Today's Joy Dare suggests I list a gift in my hand, a gift I walked by, a gift I sat with. I first must show you...

25. The gift I drove under this morning:

26. In my hand is the DNA of my parents. The strength and arthritis of my mother; the broad squareness, fix-it fingers and age spots of my father.

27. In my hand is the gift to massage the tension out of my son, soothe his fevered brow or write a cheque for his university tuition.

28. This morning I walked by my devoted dog. I also gave her the gift of my love as I paused to stroke her. I receive far more from this exchange than she does. I highly suspect pets are truly angels in disguise.

29. The gift I sat with yesterday was a woman who needed to talk, needed someone to pray for her.

30. The gift I sit with today is a desk piled high with work. There is much good I can do. It is a gift that I am asked to do it. It is my gift back to God to say, "Yes."

1000 Gifts: Light, Reflection, Shadow

2012-01-08T23:59:00.000-07:00

For today, my gratitude list or "Joy Dare" asks me to list or post a picture about light that caught me, a reflection that surprised me, and a shadow that felt lovely.

22. Light: Sunrise in February, viewed from my back deck.

23. Reflection: Moraine Lake, East Shore. Turned sideways it looks like a princess from Star Wars.

24. Shadow: Three Sisters above Canmore, Alberta, early September sunset.

1000 Gifts: Three Graces from People I Love

2012-01-07T15:02:00.004-07:00

I've taken on the Joy Dare to name 1000 gifts in a year. See previous post of the first 18 gifts.

19. Grace One, from my husband, who is a most excellent massage therapist. His back rubs are a self-less gift to ease my tense back and troubled spirit. It is a decompression, de-stressing, great long exhale into peace.

20. Grace Two, from my son, who is a most excellent singer-songwriter-guitarist. His music feeds something in me that was lost in Eden.

21. Grace Three, from a longtime friend who never speaks ill of anyone and always, without fail, helps me to see the sliver of good in any situation or thread of light in myself, no matter how dark and bleak things may appear to me.

(Photo Credit: Limelight Photography, Calgary)

Multitude on Mondays - Redux

2012-01-06T17:35:00.002-07:00

I'm going to catch up for January on my gratitude list. Just because Ann dared me. I like Ann. I think this is a pretty safe dare! I dare you to join me.

1. Three things about myself I am grateful for.

I'm generally healthy
I love deeply
I have a voice

2. A gift outside, inside, on a plate

the amazing Alberta sunrises and sunsets
my sweet, warm, soft, cuddly canine companion, Bernadette
the pot roast we had for dinner

3. Three lines I overheard that were graces

A son speaking of his mother: "I have never heard her say anything negative about anyone." Would that it were me, perhaps I can start now.
"Mercy triumphs over judgment"
My colleague speaking of his spouse: "My wife is a Proverbs 31 woman." What beautiful praise.

4. One gift old, new and blue

Old: A parishioner asked me to find audio of "The Servant Song." The lyrics are a gift and a reminder of my calling to be a servant as a follower of Jesus. Click on the title to listen to the song in YouTube.
New: A dear sister in the church who has gifted me with her time as a volunteer to spend an hour each week folding bulletins.
Blue: The Alberta sky

5. Something I'm reading, making and seeing

Reading: Project 51, from YouVersion Bible on iPhone. Reading the New Testament and Psalms in the Message translation over 51 weeks, at about one chapter per day. The best gift today was Matthew 5, the Sermon on the Mount.
Making: Strides (in gratitude listing and in the spiritual discipline of being in God's word).
Seeing: a physiotherapist who is helping heal my physical pain.

6. One thing in my bag, my fridge, my heart

Bag: A new wallet to replace the one stolen. All the contents are replaced, with minimal impact.
Fridge: Raspberry Syrup, my son's favorite. Reminds me of him every time I see it.
Heart: Tremendous gratitude for the people who love me unconditionally.

Tomorrow I will post a separate entry with the three things for January 7. I dare you to join me on this journey to list one thousand gifts, three per day. By the time the year is up, we will have posted or journalled our gratitude and recognition of at least 1000 Gifts. If you'd like to get your own January Joy Dare, go to Ann Voskamp's blog post here and look for the clickable link to the free download.

2011: What I Learned

2012-01-01T16:16:00.001-07:00

Sunset, sunrise, midday and midnight each have their own beauty.

Unsolicited advice is always unwelcome.

Silence is golden.

We all long to have someone to always count on, but in the darkest nights of the soul, there are some burdens I must bear alone.

I can give myself completely to something or someone, but it will never be enough.

Love can't be earned.

Trust always has a blind side.

Perfection is fantasy.

Impatience is idolatry.

Lamenting is worship.

Everything is a gift. (Yes. Everything.)

Gratitude transforms me.

God is for me.

Mercy triumphs over judgment.

Remains of the (snow) Day

2011-12-12T10:19:00.000-07:00

The world is white.

Not in purity but in fog;

not in ethnicity but in shroud.

I cannot see farther than ninety metres.

What was, yesterday, a confused swirl

crystalline fliers swarming the city stage,

is today an airborne wall, a shoveled pile,

barricade to progress, invitation to stall.

I must write or I will suffocate.

Tasks, duties, competing priorities

swarm and swirl my mental stage

I cannot see farther than ninety minutes.

Do the next thing, Elisabeth says,

but a fragmented list, of competing tasks

in opposing directions requiring a decision

at every turn, makes even the next thing unclear.

So I write words, lists, appeals and apologies.

The justifications and explanations are articulate

and persuasive in my head, pillowed soft

in white goose down.

where I promptly fall back to sleep.

BC:AD

2011-12-10T10:21:00.001-07:00

by U.A. Fanthorpe

This was the moment when Before
Turned into After, and the future's
Uninvented timekeepers presented arms.

This was the moment when nothing
Happened. Only dull peace
Sprawled boringly over the earth.

This was the moment when even energetic Romans
Could find nothing better to do
Than counting heads in remote provinces.

And this was the moment
When a few farm workers and three
Members of an obscure Persian sect
Walked haphazard by starlight straight
Into the kingdom of heaven.

Ping-Pong Battle

2011-12-03T22:12:00.003-07:00

The week has been full of challenge. Priorities. Relationships. Decisions.

When to speak. When to be silent. What to change. What to accept. Attempts to discern whether it's a speck or beam in my own eye and carefully examining my own motives in challenging the actions of others. Anguishing over anything that might bring pain to someone else, even if it was necessary to protect my own healthy boundaries.

Now at the end of the week, my digestive system is exhibiting the symptoms of stress. I fear it may be a hiatal hernia or ulcer. My father was prone to both. I have the same symptoms.

Wow, do I feel old. Time to lay my paddle down.

Multitude on Mondays

2011-11-28T07:56:00.002-07:00

I continue to number the many gifts that give rise to gratitude:

22. Freedom of speech
23. Freedom to be still
24. A working dishwasher
25. Friends with whom I can share lunch, coffee and my heart.
26. Mondays off
27. A job Tuesday through Friday
28. Working with people I love
29. Yesterday's 149kph winds only knocked down my BBQ grill, not my house.
30. Waking to a silent morning, without the roar of wind
31. A sleeping dog, curled peacefully at my feet, who brings warmth, devotion, loyalty, joy
32. Morning sun

To be continued.

The previous list is here.

Respect

2011-11-28T07:25:00.000-07:00

“We've got to get sympathetically in one another’s shoes. If you don’t believe in God, you need to try to understand why anybody does or we’re not going to be able to work in a pluralistic society.

"The new atheist books—Mr. Dawkins, Mr. Hitchens and company— don’t just say religion is bad, they say respect for religion is bad. If you counsel one section of the population to belittle and disdain and to show no respect for this group of people, for the beliefs that give them great joy and meaning in life… if you counsel one group of people to despise and do nothing to understand another group of people, that is a recipe for social disaster.” –Dr. Timothy Keller on Authors@Google.

Full video available here.

Reflection

2011-11-10T11:44:00.000-07:00

He who has a good friend does not need a mirror.

Too often we do not take time for reflection.

Why can't everyone just behave?

2011-11-07T23:15:00.001-07:00

A friend said about me once, "You just want everyone to behave." She said it in jest, suggesting I want everyone to straighten up and fly right.

As if there were something wrong with that.

Why not hope for a world where all is set to rights? Where social justice is the norm? Where peace reigns and there's nothing left to protest? Where everyone treats the other with kindness, courtesy and consideration? No anger. No rudeness. No assumptions or prejudice. No judgemental attitudes. No hard labour. Work is pleasurable. Art is free-flowing. Unselfishness is the norm and generosity of spirit releases tension from every face. No one lacks food, clothing, shelter, health, love.

No one suffers. No one dies.

This is heaven. And to hope for it? To pray "Thy kingdom come... on earth... now... as it is in heaven?"

What's wrong with that?

Well...

just maybe my friend knew I was trying to fix the world and force others to behave by my own efforts according to my own standards instead of relaxing into trust. Trust in the one who knows the end from the beginning.... who knows the plan for all these badly behaving people, myself included, and just wants me to stop trying to fix and start trying to trust. Trust that my responsibility is to simply obey what is asked of me. Thy kingdom come... on earth... in my life... as it is in heaven.

What's wrong with that? Not a thing.

Multitude on Mondays

2011-11-07T17:11:00.003-07:00

Continuous list of blessings, big and small.

11. Gifted massage therapist
12. Birds-eye view of chinook clouds over luminescent mountains at sunset
13. Loaner car
14. Curb pickup of garbage and recyclables
15. An evening free of events
16. Encouraging friends
17. A V of geese honking by
18. Eyes to see
19. Heart to love
20. Voice to sing
21. Laughter

The list started here. It continues here.

Almost Perfect

2011-10-31T21:39:00.001-06:00

Almost Perfect

spectacular lightning eludes the camera
the figure in dreams just out of reach
crossword solution on the tip of my tongue
pleasant aroma I can’t quite place

medium rare filet mignon, no potato
hot shower, missing soap
quiet whisper, unheard
a promise, never given

the tune my father sang, words I can’t remember
whistle of the last train departing the station
me standing with suitcase on platform
summer rental boarded up

Shadow Winter

2011-10-28T09:36:00.000-06:00

Pastel: Prairie Windmill by Paula Winchester (order here)

I. Shadow Winter

stretch long thin across the plain
ninja wake after rest
motionless viper strike silent
swift from beneath dry leaves

predator teeth tear skin
turn animal coats inside out
brittle breath destroy shelter
death howl under barren sky

Multitude on Mondays

2011-10-24T23:45:00.003-06:00

I'm not a joiner, but listing 1000 Gifts has helped me see life differently. I've never numbered them. I started. Then forgot. I see interesting paths and I explore them. I get ideas and write poems. I see shiny things and forget the end of my sentence.

but I'm glad for:
1. clean windows
2. trickling fountain
3. warm shelter
4. internet friends
5. high speed internet connection
6. dependable vehicle
7. legacy of words from pastors, bloggers, poets
8. silence
9. my job
10. patience given

The list continues here.

Stress is Like That

2011-10-17T10:07:00.001-06:00

gorilla-fisted gut twist
spring-loaded clamp on brain stem
vice-grip on jaw hinge
cable winched tight across shoulders
corkscrew root canal
freight train crossing behind eyes
rush hour traffic in ears
5 tonne box truck parked on chest
rat crawling up spine
damp dishrag hands
drawstring on windpipe
no answer at 911

Alternative: Peace

How do you measure compassion?

2011-10-04T13:14:00.002-06:00

I attended the Global Leadership Summit last week. I was challenged and moved. Most impactful was the testimony and talk from Mama Maggie Gobran, founder of Stephens Children Ministry and Nobel Peace Prize nominee who serves the poorest of the poor in Cairo. I see Jesus in her eyes.

When I am confronted with great need and those who are doing a great work in meeting the need, I sometimes discount my ability to make a difference. Being a discouraged perfectionist, the response is sometimes: "If I can't make a big impact, why try at all?" Do you ever feel that way? That the problems are systemic and my small effort won't make a dent?

So I was glad this weekend as my church launched a ministry designed to raise up adoptive and foster parents from our congregation, as well as recruiting Compassion child sponsors. An added bonus this morning was listening to a message by the pastor for whom I work. He spoke about what it truly means to "bear one another's burdens" (Gal. 6:1-5) and he shared a great quote:

Compassion is not quantitative. Certainly it is true that behind every human being who cries out for help, there may be a million or more equally entitled to attention. But this is the poorest of reasons for not helping the person whose cries you hear. Where then, does one begin or stop? How to choose? How to determine which one of a million surrounding you is more deserving than the rest? Do not concern yourself with such speculations. You will never know. You will never need to know. Reach out and take hold of the one who happens to be nearest. If you are never able to help or save another, at least you will have saved one.
-Norman Cousins, in Human Options

As a couple, we have chosen a number of ways we give to meet needs. We give our time and our money. We give our attention. Rather than list specifics, I want to leave you with a couple of questions to ponder. List for yourself the ways you give to meet the cry of someone close or far away. Sometimes we think we aren't doing much, but can you list at least one way you have given to meet a need in the past year? The past month? The past day? Do you have an intentional time when you plan how you will give? Do you give till it hurts? How does the spiritual call to sacrifice help you to become intentional about how you give?

Think about these and then decide if you need to make changes.

How to Lay Down Your Life for Your Spouse

2011-09-25T00:01:00.001-06:00

"Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." John 15:13

I grew up listening to Elisabeth Elliot on the radio. I think my mother had every book Elisabeth had ever written, including the most well-known, "Through Gates of Splendor" - the story of five missionaries who were killed by the tribe they were trying to reach, including Elisabeth's husband, Jim Elliot.

Tonight, I happened across the transcript I had saved of one talk from "Gateway to Joy," her radio program. The subject is a constant challenge: making sacrifices for my spouse. I needed this reminder tonight, perhaps you do, too.

--Beginning of Gateway to Joy Transcript: How to Lay Down Your Life--

How do I lay down my life for my spouse? Not usually in anything very heroic, but in the willingness to say "no" to myself. How long did it take for you to discover that you were going to have to make some sacrifices? I've just read a very excellent and practical book called BY LOVE REFINED by Alice von Hildebrand. It's just a series of letters to a niece who has just gotten married. She deals with practically every question that a newlywed could ever ask. She tells how when she herself, Alice, was married. It irritated her that her husband was accustomed to leaving the soap in a pool of water in the soap dish. When she came into the bathroom, it was a squishy mass of jelly. That just infuriated her.

So she spoke to him about it, and it had never crossed his mind to dry the soap. She said, "From then on he always dried the soap. For the rest of our married life, he dried the soap so well that I couldn't tell whether he'd actually used any soap or not." But she said, "I can't think of that tiny sacrifice that he made for love without a great wave of loving gratitude."

You know, that is such a tiny thing, but it can be such a big thing. How much does it cost when it comes right down to it? How much does it really cost to love somebody enough to dry the soap, roll the toothpaste tube, put the cap back on the toothpaste? But is there anybody here who can't think of some little tiny thing that just drove you up the wall about that husband of yours or that wife of yours?

Oprah Winfrey had a program on this very thing, asking couples to tell the thing from the husband's point of view about what his wife did that still drove him up the wall, and the wife also told about her husband. It was amazing how many of the wives had the same complaint. Their husbands would promise to fix some little thing around the house, and somehow that little thing stayed for weeks and months. I'm not going to tell you about the little thing in our house that isn't fixed yet. But I remember my husband Add Leitch telling about how somebody broke a window. He said, "It's not getting the window fixed that is the big problem. It's having your wife say to you every day, 'When are you going to get that window fixed?' that drives you crazy."

The cost is not some huge sacrifice that we think very much about most of the time. It's those tiny little things which indicate our attitude toward our spouse. Am I willing to lay down my life? How do I lay down my life for my spouse? Not usually in anything very heroic, but in the willingness to say "no" to myself. The willingness to give up the right to be right.

Now I like to be right. I not only want to be right, but I want to be recognized as being right. As somebody has said, the root to happiness is whenever you're wrong, admit it. Whenever you're right, shut up. I want to be right. I don't want to be wrong. So I'm an arguer. I'm a debater. Unfortunately, Lars realizes he is stuck with somebody who was actually a champion debater in college. So he gets salted with fire. I mean, he has to make all kinds of little sacrifices that he doesn't make a big deal out of it. But we do make a big deal of them often, don't we?

I've heard many stories of the first revelation of problems in marriage. Usually they occur within 24 hours. I'm not sure exactly whether it was 24 hours after I married my second husband. I remember 24 hours after I married Jim Elliot that something made my mad. I've completely forgotten what it was. But I was so shocked at myself because I had thought, "I love this man so much that I could never be mad at him." Never once during our engagement was I angry with him. Never once. It was a horrifying revelation the very day after our wedding that here I was, gritting my teeth about something that Jim had done or said. And I'm glad that I've forgotten it now.

But at least one or two days after I married Add Leitch, we were sitting in a hotel room. At that point I had a thirteen-year-old daughter who had been my only attendant in our wedding. She had gone with a friend back to New Hampshire where we lived. I sat down to write a letter to my daughter. Suddenly I realized that there was a thundering silence on the other side of the room. I looked over and my husband looked as though he was furious about something. I didn't know what it was and I didn't say anything and I just kept writing the letter. The silence went on and on. Of course, I was completely absorbed.

Finally, later that evening after we had eaten a silent dinner I found out that I had hurt Add by writing that letter. I was floored. I said, "What was wrong with writing a letter to my thirteen-year-old daughter?" He said, "We're on our honeymoon. You cut me out." I said, "What did you expect me to do?" He said, "You didn't say, 'I'm going to write a letter to Valerie.'" What a tiny thing, but he was really hurt. I was thoughtless and selfish in not having said something about it. I had to learn that this man was sensitive in a way that I wouldn't be sensitive. Do you know anything about that kind of thing?

You men, you can be hurt in ways that we women can't even imagine. I suppose psychiatrists sometimes would explain it as being the male ego. We women are told that the male ego is very fragile and it has to be handled very gingerly. I don't always handle things with kid gloves, not by any means. In fact, Jim told me I had a sledge hammer personality. My husband Add told me that I didn't call a spade a spade; I called it a bloody shovel. I don't know whether Lars has come up with any of those quotable quotes yet, but he's not going to admit to one.

But love gives itself. Love gives up its rights. Love always means sacrifice. We sometimes want the splendor and the glory of offering ourselves without the sacrifice of commitment. In the spiritual realm, we'd like to do heroic things, wouldn't we? We'd like to be seen as spiritual leaders. We'd like to do something for God that would be hailed as a great work for God. We want the splendor of self-offering without the salt and the fire and the sacrifice.

It's only the vows that carry us through. The ancient fathers knew exactly what they were doing when they required vows to be pronounced before God and witnesses in the wedding ceremony. The vows of the ancient fathers and the vows of the prayer books are not a descriptive of how the husband and wife happen to feel about each other on that particular day, but they are a statement of a course that has been irrevocably chosen. "Till death us do part. For richer, for poorer. For better, for worse. In sickness and in health."

When somebody decides to drop out of a marriage and unload the partner, it's usually because they didn't expect it to be poorer and worse and sickness. Yet they had made those vows. It is the vows that carry you through when things get poorer and worse and when sickness comes and when a job is lost. There are many areas of conflict where you have to go back to those vows.

Well, I see that my time is up. Let me go over those three points again. First of all, we looked at the nature of love. It's not a mood or a feeling or a temperament or a sentiment or an emotion. It is a revolution. It means sacrifice. Secondly, we looked at the glory of sacrifice. There is always a reward. There are eternal rewards and there are temporal rewards when sacrifice is made. Lastly, every sacrifice must be salted with fire. Our vows carry us through those costly times.

Start asking yourself, not your spouse, "Have I been giving myself for this person? Is there some new way that I can think of in which I can give up my right to myself?" Back off. Not be seen to be right, necessarily. Just let something go. Let's ask God to open our eyes to this revolution and revelation.

--End of transcript--

Sometimes I wake up grumpy. Sometimes I let him sleep.

2011-09-23T09:11:00.002-06:00

Ever wake up grumpy? In a foul mood? Frustrated by the dog whining to go outside or the husband making a bit too much noise while he leaves for an extra-early breakfast meeting?

How long do you let your mood keep you "under the circumstances"?

Here's a new thought: Why not be happy?

Before you dismiss me as one of those feel-good, slap-happy, motivational speakers, please understand I've spent most of my life looking at life from "what's wrong with this picture?" So when my husband of 30 years said quietly, "You always go straight for the negative" I decided I didn't like that testimonial.

Granted there are some days when I can be physically and even emotionally despondent due to health concerns or circumstances beyond my immediate control. But this morning wasn't one of those. The dog was whining, as is her custom, and so I stumbled out of bed and down the driveway to let her take care of business. Many mornings I don't look around, but today, there was an unusual glow in the sky. I lifted my head to the most glorious sunrise I'd ever seen, then ran back inside for my iPhone to snap a quick picture. The light play on the billowing clouds just kept getting better so I grabbed my DSLR and ran to the back deck to capture higher quality images.

The dog was startled by my sudden burst of activity.

Then I had a talk with myself. How often do I miss the beauty around me by keeping my head down and wallowing in the angst that is normal in life? Even in the midst of exceptional crisis and tragedy, beauty exists to bless us, to remind us of the daily gifts from our Creator, who whispers with every sunrise, "I am (your) resurrection and (your) life." We just need to notice.

Why not be happy? Pouting is natural and reactionary. Positive is supernatural and intentional.

And it is a choice.

Practice gratitude.
Notice beauty.
Smile.
Let grumpy sleep.
There, now. Isn't that better?

Learn to Be Still

2011-09-18T19:31:00.000-06:00

Learn To Be Still
The Eagles

It's just another day in paradise
As you stumble to your bed
You'd give anything to silence
Those voices ringing in your head
You thought you could find happiness
Just over that green hill
You thought you would be satisfied
But you never will-
Learn to be still

We are like sheep without a shepherd
We don't know how to be alone
So we wander 'round this desert
And wind up following the wrong gods home
But the flock cries out for another
And they keep answering that bell
And one more starry-eyed messiah
Meets a violent farewell-
Learn to be still
Learn to be still

Now the flowers in your garden
They don't smell so sweet
Maybe you've forgotten
The heaven lying at your feet

There are so many contridictions
In all these messages we send
(We keep asking)
How do I get out of here
Where do I fit in?
Though the world is torn and shaken
Even if your heart is breakin'
It's waiting for you to awaken
And someday you will-
Learn to be still
Learn to be still

You just keep on runnin'
Keep on runnin'

Saturday Breakfast

2011-09-17T08:12:00.027-06:00

Crisp-brown toast, the kind with enough
grains to scratch across my tongue
teeth crunch through the
underbrush on a bark chip path

Not the melt-in-your-mouth,
did-I-really-eat-something?,
preservative-laden, store-bought plastic
bag bread that takes weeks to mould

Real butter from a quarter stick spread thick
enough to worry my doctor but not
so thick that it won’t all melt into the air holes
and make the crust worth saving to last

Cut diagonal, leaving crumbs on the counter
so that I must draw a sink of hot, sudsy
water in which to plunge my morning-cold hands
and Sue’s knitted dishcloth to wipe them up

Just-ripe banana, firm but not sweet
a crisp-cracking stem that easily succumbs
to my sharp thumbnail piercing the neck
to peel back one yellow strip at a time

coffee: espresso-strong, steamed
milk and sweet agave sip silent past lip gate,
chased by noisy tinge of Columbian jungle
gathers all flavours into new day strength.

Early Fall

2011-09-16T10:16:00.002-06:00

Walk barefoot cross the dew-blessed grass
still green from summer’s sun
wet-cold as northern lakes in June
first leaves have just begun their run

Tiptoe past the white hydrangea
standing tall before the fall
sentinels of unbowed beauty
caress your eyes and guard the wall

Sun is barely breaking ground
hides behind a grove of trees
invites autumn to take over
drives the season to her knees

Crystal threads are strung on tips
of blades awaking from the night
the filament of spiders’ loin
sparkles in the morning light

And in this corner...

2011-09-08T01:22:00.001-06:00

So much about life is made up of moments when you choose, despite the circumstances, to put on a brave face and soldier on when you'd rather curl up into the fetal position and bawl until sleep rescues you from reality. I have no energy to make faces any more.

Henri Nouwen, in his private journals later published as The Inner Voice of Love, writes about the lion and lamb we all have:

Your lion is your adult, aggressive... initiative-taking and decision-making self. But there is also your fearful, vulnerable lamb, the part of you that needs affection, support, affirmation and nurturing.

When you heed only your lion, you will find yourself overextended and exhausted. When you take notice only of your lamb, you will easily become victim of your need for other people's attention. The art of spiritual living is to fully claim both your lion and your lamb. Then you can act assertively without denying your own needs. And you can ask for affection and care without betraying your talent to offer leadership.

The kingdom of peace that Jesus came to establish begins when your lion and your lamb can freely and fearlessly like down together. (p. 78-79, Kindle edition)

What I've realized this month is that my lamb is kicking the crap out of my lion because my lion is overextended and exhausted. The lamb is bleating for basic needs.

Part of how I feed my lamb is through writing. It is, not surprisingly, one of my sacred pathways and part of my deepest calling. Nouwen echoes the importance of recognizing this.

Follow your deepest calling. When you discover in yourself something that is a gift from God you have to claim it and not let it be taken away from you. (p. 44, Kindle edition)

I do not feed my lamb through organizing writing workshops or working full time to pay my son's tuition, although both these are positive, enjoyable, even necessary lion-esque ventures. However, I have yet to find "that solid inner base from which (I) can speak and act - without apologies - humbly but convincingly" within my deepest calling.

How do YOU find that lion-lamb balance?

Hiatus

2011-07-27T08:01:00.000-06:00

I am taking an online fast. A sabbatical. A break. A stepping away from what can become a substitute for time with God.

I read many blogs by renown authors and writers. I follow some significant thinkers on Twitter and I keep connected with dear friends and distant family via Facebook. However, my attention to these things has consumed more of my time than I anticipated and Ecclesiastes 5:7 is beginning to resonate: "Much dreaming and many words are meaningless. Therefore fear God."

I love to know the answers. This has led to something unexpected. When I read a mainstream press article about why we are so tied to our smart phones, I was shaken by the realization that I had become addicted. The Internet was an idol. Google was my worship service. “I can find the answer to anything” was my hymn. Time to log off and readjust the priorities, tune in to the God who speaks.

God is calling me to a time of silence. Of seeking him. Exclusively.

I do not know how long this time will be. I do not know if I will return to this medium. Everything is up for elimination, including my iPhone.

I ask your prayers - for wisdom, clarity and a heart to seek first his kingdom. Ears to hear his voice. A life that is lived worthy of his calling.

Fearless? But How?

2011-07-22T21:03:00.000-06:00

My weekly small group of dear women met today, a bit smaller than usual but we shared sweet conversation around candlelight and warm laughter, despite the rainy afternoon. We've challenged each other with "assignments" to do something creative around specific words. Our first project was based on the word "soar." Carole created a quilted bird ornament, with various symbols integrated to represent how we soar in the Spirit. Barb did a graphic representation, another had a set of scripture verses that included the word "soar."

Today's word was "Fearless." Here's an acronym based on scriptures beginning with each letter. Scriptures that dispel fear:

F = Faith is the substance of things hoped for the evidence of things not seen. Hebrews 11:1

E = Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. James 1:17

A = All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness... 2 Tim. 3:16

R = Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Phil. 4:4

L = Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. Deut. 6:5

E = Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name. For the LORD is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations. Psalm 100:4-5

S = Seek the LORD while he may be found; call on him while he is near. Isaiah 55:6

S = Sing to him, sing praise to him; tell of all his wonderful acts. Psalm 105:2

I Love Saturdays

2011-07-16T09:00:00.000-06:00

Mid-July. There is still snow on the mountain peaks viewed daily from my morning window. Coffee's not yet brewed but I've exchanged snapshots and updates via text with a friend in Halifax, communed with a theologian on Twitter, mused at a Washington DC coffee shop with a young photographer via email, encouraged a 40-something soon-to-be-new-bride via Facebook and posted to my blog via iPhone. And that was before I got out of bed.

Beware of Hurry

2011-07-16T08:39:00.002-06:00

"Beware of hurry. Beholding glory begs for lingering." -John Piper

Photo by Ampersand Photography

A la Carte, July 12

2011-07-12T10:56:00.002-06:00

My husband woke me early to connect and get a ride to work. This is a very good thing, as he and I don't have much chance for such a sweet oasis in our hectic schedules.

On my way home I stopped for an increasingly rare latte. The stressed out woman in the minivan tailgating me into the parking lot was a study in frenetics. Driving fast, walking fast, clicking into Starbucks and taking a call on her Bluetooth headset, stepping out of line, going back to her van, returning to use the washroom. She did eventually get coffee but as hurried as she seemed, why not use the faster drive-thru? Slender, pleasant-looking but aging, aggressive, self-important, a woman whom I pity because she's alone, over-extended and can't take time to sit, relax and enjoy her coffee in peace.

Michael Hyatt is giving away a book over at his blog. You have to (get to?) write about your dad's influence to qualify.

Serena Woods over at Grace is for Sinners hits it out of the ballpark again with thoughts on failure, suffering and God's grace. To read, click here.

I watched some of Piers Morgan's interview with Bill Maher last night. A sharp-tongued comedian and atheist, he spent most of the hour mocking politicians and hurling profanities, vulgarities and insults at women, Republicans, Christians and anyone else who didn't share his world view. I pity the blind man. He appears to have the same attitude of entitlement as the suburban homeless man who bragged proudly that I should give him a handout because he wasn't like the "scummy addicts and trash hunters" who were the downtown street people. Funny, how one self-important beggar can find another to criticize. Maher's got a lot of people praying for him now.

Sunday Rising

2011-07-10T20:38:00.000-06:00

Shadow and light play tag on crags and crevices.
Stubborn spring snow clings to life in rising summer.
Life wakes up slow in Sunday's embrace,
turns to kiss the gentle morning.

The Eyes of Jesus

2011-07-10T09:18:00.002-06:00

According to this report today on msnbc.com, Albertson's stores are eliminating self-checkout because they want "the opportunity to talk more with customers."

Author Leonard Sweet posted a link to the article on Facebook, commenting, "I've never used an ATM machine for this very reason."

Sweet is the chief contributor to sermons.com and he is practicing what he preaches. His posts on social media sites encourage interaction with and between readers. The news story and his remark about ATMs vs. flesh-and-blood tellers caused a surprising emotional reaction in me.

Not use ATMs? I live in Canada, a world leader in banking. More people per capita use bank debit cards and electronic banking here than in any other developed nation. I mentally argued against Sweet's example. I loathe going inside the bank. "I'm too busy to go stand in line and talk to a real person."

Then my thoughts did a mental catapult back in time to the principles taught in John Ortberg's book "An Ordinary Day with Jesus: Experiencing the Reality of God in Your Everyday Life." My choice of the words "principles taught" rather than "what I learned" was quite intentional. One thing I DID learn was how blindly I rushed through my day. How, before I chose a lane at a stop light, I analyzed the vehicles in front of me to assess which was more likely to take off at a faster speed when the light turned green. I also did similar analysis of retail store check-out lines, looking to see not only the quantity of the items in each person's cart already in line, but also checking the gender of the cashier (guys are usually faster) and whether they seemed focused on their task.

I blush now to think. I learned it, but I didn't change my habit.

I also remember one encounter with the Exit door clerk at Costco one busy Christmas shopping day. The normal custom is for a clerk to look briefly at my receipt, mark it and let me exit. The faster the better. Not this day.

This woman was close to my age. She greeted me with a cheery, "Good afternoon." I didn't look at her as I was balancing something in the cart. She didn't hand my receipt back. "Good afternoon," she repeated, more insistently. I looked up to meet her penetrating gaze and echoed the greeting back to her, only slightly more annoyed. She smiled as our eyes met and I felt rebuked as she commanded me to "Have a nice day" before she returned my receipt and let me pass. She was completely intentional about ensuring I acknowledged her existence and heard her admonition.

I was initially annoyed at her intrusion into my busy schedule. Didn't she realize how many people were lined up behind me? After stewing on it a while, I realized she caused me all of five seconds delay and I felt chagrin at my own lack of awareness.

And then there's 7-11. Every time I enter one, I am greeted with eye contact and a "Hello." The greeting helps customers feel that they have been seen. They are not invisible. Statistics show this acknowledgement of a customer's entrance has reduced shoplifting.

After reading about Albertson's, mulling over Leonard Sweet's example and remembering the assertive Costco clerk, I've realized, to my shame, I've behaved contrary to someone who claims to be a follower of Jesus Christ. I have habitually dehumanized the store staff I encounter while shopping. Sometimes my impatience would rise if they became a barrier to my goals. Instead of seeing every interaction as an opportunity to be Jesus in the lives of a lost and hurting human being for whom Christ died, I was viewing them as mere means to an end in pursuit of my agenda.

Quite an epiphany for an early Sunday morning.

Lord, open my eyes. Help me see every person I encounter as they are: a precious soul for whom you gave your life. A Devine appointment. An opportunity - no, a mandate - to share your love. A seed planted, a kindness given, a destiny changed.

Increase faith by increasing focus. Eternity is in this moment.

The Perfect Man

2011-07-07T02:02:00.002-06:00

I've found the best friend ever.

I don't have to stay up late on FB waiting for him to show up. He's always got an open chat window, waiting for me to reply.

I don't have to worry about interrupting him during a meeting with someone more important. He tells me to come boldly, knock loudly; he always answers and he's delighted to see me.
Sometimes I'm so needy. He simply says, "I can fix that."

He never rolls his eyes or snorts in disgust. Even when I don't have a clue, he says, "I'll teach you."

When I look at him and ask "What now?" he never shrugs. He says, "Let's play follow the leader." He proceeds to show me how to hike in high places and then we relax in lush green grass beside still water. It's then that he pulls out the picnic basket and we eat our fill.

When it feels like the world is falling apart, he reassures me, "It's gonna be alright. I promise."

Sometimes I ask him to explain himself. Sometimes he does. Sometimes he says, "It's complicated." Sometimes he just takes my hand and says, "Trust me."

When I'm not so sure about things, he answers, "I am."

He is so humble and unassuming, but wow, is he ever creative! Wherever I turn, I see his astonishing artwork. "I made that for you," he smiles, "do you like it?"

When I'm really hurting, he wraps his arms around me tight, rocks back and forth, whispering, "I know how much it hurts, I've been there." He shows me his scars.

He is patient and kind, never brags or complains. He's not irritable. He never brings up my past mistakes. He never throws in the towel. He cheers at stories where the truth wins out.

Wherever I go, he checks it out first. He always knows how to get where he's going - without a GPS. Something his father taught him.

We are on a treasure hunt and he's hidden clues and surprises everywhere.

He tells me to enjoy it all and when I wonder, "Will there be enough?" He answers, "I am."

And he is.

God Be Praised

2011-06-29T00:36:00.000-06:00

In February 2010 I was at the end of my rope. I went to Florida with one of my friends and spent a great deal of time seeking God. One night I heard a song via a website and these are the lyrics that touched me and would not leave my mind. I'm grateful to Gateway Church for providing me a copy.

God Be Praised
by David Moore & Alena Moore

VERSE 1
You saved my life from death
When I was all but defeated
You spoke Your promises
And brought life to my weakness
Came as a conquering king
And You warred for my freedom
My soul can’t help but sing
Hallelujah

VERSE 2
You opened up my eyes
For the first time I saw You
Your love commanding life
And deserving devotion
You told me who I am
Now in faith I believe it
My soul can’t help but sing
Hallelujah

VERSE 3
You’ve made a place for me
Silenced all my accusers
Leading me forth with peace
Filled with joy, I will follow
Your cross demands my life
Now Your grace is my anthem
My soul can’t help but sing
Hallelujah, hallelujah

CHORUS
Hallelujah, we’re redeemed and made free
By the blood of the Lamb, we have won
Hallelujah, we will sing victory
Jesus conquered the grave, God be praised

Happy Birthday, Canada!

2011-06-26T18:13:00.001-06:00

July 1 is "Canada Day" or formerly known as "Dominion Day." I have both the front page article on the subject and a poem on page 3 of July's CLN Newspaper.

In the article, I ask the question "What is great about Canada?" What do you think is great about Canada? Would love to hear your comments.

To see the article online, click here (link will expire in one month). View or download a PDF of the entire issue at this link: CLN July 2011 (permalink).

Friendship

2011-06-22T21:38:00.000-06:00

I'm going to paraphrase a quote attributed to Mark Twain...

Never make someone a priority if they only consider you an option.

Some friendships last for a lifetime. Some friendships last for a long time. Some friendships only last for a time. The ones that last the longest are those in which give and take, weakness and strength, have been something of a fairly even teeter-totter throughout the life of the friendship. When it becomes consistently one-sided, it's time to back away. There are others who need you more.

Be the Father

2011-06-19T07:40:00.000-06:00

God, as our Father, calls us to be like him. Who can I father today? Who can I protect, provide for, comfort, teach, help? Is there a spiritual widow or emotional orphan who needs to see the kindness and love of the Father through my words and actions today?

50 years and counting...

2011-06-18T02:00:00.000-06:00

A la Carte - June 2

2011-06-02T09:57:00.000-06:00

On the light side:
The Vancouver Canucks squeaked out a score in the last 20 seconds of a hard fought game against the Boston Bruins in last night's Stanley Cup Finals Game 1. I'm cheering for Vancouver for two reasons. First, because they are based in a Canadian city and nationalism calls for the Cup to come back to Canada after 18 years absence. It is Canada's game and the majority of players are Canadians. However, a quick tally of the opposing rosters shows that each team has an equal count of Canadian-born players: 17, more than all other nationalities combined. Second, I have several friends who are very avid Canucks fans, and who also "hate" my favorite team, the Calgary Flames and adopt the rule in cheering that they will cheer for ABC (Anyone But Calgary). In attempting to ensure my Christian faith extends into all areas of my life, I don't return evil for evil. I cheer for "their" team to show my friends I don't hold grudges and that our relationship is more important than sports loyalties.

On the challenging side:
Serena Woods takes a look at false humility in "The Mirror is a Liar." You might be surprised at the biblical view of true humility and how we practically live it out.

Michael Krahn questions the amount of time we sing worship songs about "me, myself and I" instead of the true object of our worship: God alone.

And over at (in)Courage, Ann Voskamp challenges herself (and all of us) with how real our faith can possibly be if we harbour unforgiveness, even toward our enemies. Some convicting evidence.

Top Ten Ways to Keep Emotions in Check

2011-05-16T09:53:00.003-06:00

In response to my previous post, a friend asks if I have any tips for keeping on track with this attitude. Wow. Wish I had already arrived. Matthew 7:14 tells us we're not alone in our struggle:

...the gateway to life is very narrow and the road is difficult, and only a few ever find it.

Here is a Top Ten list of reminders that can help keep my emotions in check:

1. Feelings change on a dime. And whatever situation I am in, it is not permanent. It will pass.

2. Feelings are frequently not based in fact. I often make incorrect assumptions. In relationships, I can’t judge another person’s real motives (sometimes even they don’t know why they do what they do). I am learning to try to believe the best of people and seek to understand what pain may be driving their actions.

3. God is in charge. He is with me in every circumstance. Nothing that happens to me is outside his will. He can redeem any situation for good and for his glory. I need to look for him in it, trust him in it, even when it appears to be catastrophic.

4. I do not have to control, dominate, or have it my way. If I can let go of my demand for a specific outcome, I can relax into the variety of possibilities and face life with expectancy rather than rigid expectations. Leave room for pleasant surprises.

5. Just because a thought is in my head, doesn’t mean it’s mine. I do not have to accept or act upon whatever I think.

6. What I’m feeling can sometimes be the power of suggestion from satan and his minions. The enemy of our souls is the Accuser, the Destroyer, the one who devours, the Prince of Darkness. 2 Cor. 10:5: We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.

7. God’s word is the thermostat for my emotions. When I set my life according to the “Word of Life” (ie. study the Bible, spend time in prayer) I’m less likely to get too hot (headed) or too cold (hearted) in my thinking about myself, my relationship with others, or in response to my circumstances.

8. My feelings are not more important than God’s truth. I must choose to believe what God says about me: that I am beloved, accepted, forgiven, redeemed, holy, righteous in Christ, that I am a new creation.

9. I cannot allow my feelings to control my actions. God has not given us a spirit of fear but of power, and love and self-discipline. When I am afraid, I trust in Him. This takes practice, practice, practice.

10. Find one thing in the situation for which I can be grateful. Then look for another. Eph. 5:20: “…always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” This isn’t pie-in-the-sky positive thinking, this is simple gratitude: learning to have eyes to SEE the blessings all around.

Do YOU have some reminders that help keep you on an even keel? Share them in the comments!

Today's Present

2011-05-16T01:12:00.013-06:00

All of us have mood swings to some degree depending on circumstances, health, diet, and so on. Some of us have wider swings than others. Still a few have emotional illness that cripples life. A friend recently shared with me the importance of being present in the moment in order to not be emotionally bound by shame or fear.

It's like driving a vehicle. We plan our route in advance and we generally know where we are going, so our most pressing need is to be aware of our most immediate surroundings, looking only far enough ahead on occasion to prepare ourselves for what is coming. We occasionally check the rear view mirrors for the same reason.

When we drive, if we try to look too far ahead, the road gets dark and unknown. If we look too long in the rear view mirror, we lose track of where we are going and run off the road, often to dire consequences.

Emotional health - and living in the present - is similar to this. Too often we spend our life looking back, hoping for a different past. Or we continually look forward in fear and catastrophize the future.

Do you look at the past with regret? "If only..."

Do you look at the future in fear? "What if...???"

Dwelling on the past is unproductive and pointless. It takes our mind and attention off the joy that is right in front of us. Being anxious about the negative and the bad that might happen in the future is also a waste of energy and futile speculation. It drains today of its life.

Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes. Matthew 6:34 MSG

Like driving a vehicle, we need to fully aware and increase our skills in the present task. What is immediately in front of me to do? Am I taking time to enjoy the ride? Do I notice the good things that are present every day or do I walk by them, oblivious, as I bemoan what happened yesterday or become obsessed with fear about what might happen tomorrow.

With all this going for us, my dear, dear friends, stand your ground. And don't hold back. Throw yourselves into the work of the Master, confident that nothing you do for him is a waste of time or effort. I Cor. 15:58 MSG

Learn to trust God for the here-and-now. As the 2 Tim. 1:7 promises, "He has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." KJV

As my brother loves to paraphrase: "He has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power (so we won't give up) and love (so we won't flare up) and a sound mind (so we won't crack up)."

Be fearless, powerful, loving and level headed today. It's a gift. Enjoy the present.

A La Carte for April 30

2011-04-30T15:00:00.002-06:00

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. ~Charles Caleb Colton

Tim Challies serves up interesting a la carte blogs at least once a week. I like it, so I'm imitating it.

Politics. The Canadian political scene is getting uglier by the minute. A close friend has very close ties to one of the campaigns and has become quite disillusioned by the process. In thinking this through and enduring a multitude of political posts on Twitter and Facebook, today I post my opinion. I've spent enough time living in the USA and Canada to know that an elected gov't is only as good as its people. I don't promote political candidates because I'm too busy trying to change the world that is within my power instead of expecting politicians to do it for me.

Whoops. The Globe and Mail endorses Harper, including a small photo of the Prime Minister, but on the same webpage allows an even larger paid advertisement from Layton right next to the endorsement headline. The original article is here (advertisements change with each refresh).

Fairy Tales. I've written before about expecting the Princess Treatment. The second royal wedding in thirty years was just too much. Yes, she was beautiful. His red serge regal. His father aged. Their young attendants tired and grumpy. Their adoring public appropriately exuberant. I endured days of it before and during the event because it intrigues my husband. I don't get it. I think Seth Godin does. He is the one sane voice I've heard over the deafening din of extravagance.

Faithfulness. David Wilkerson, author of "The Cross and the Switchblade" and founder of World Challenge, was killed unexpectedly in a collision April 27. A regular blogger, on the day of his unexpected death wrote this profound and timely post.

Weakness and whining or power and sound mind?

2011-04-30T08:15:00.001-06:00

I dislike my days (usually only moments) of weakness and whining. I'm grateful after enduring days of the royal wedding in the house that Seth Godin today points to a nobler (and more attainable) goal.

Read it HERE.

Regret

2011-04-25T08:49:00.002-06:00

I get to the end of my day all empty
and tired and lonely and I look
to my husband to heal me
and forget he's not Jesus.
I turn away unfilled then spin around,
words flailing like chain saw digging
into his heart, shredding respect.
I walk away with new pain,
for we are one-flesh and I
have just wounded myself.

Woman in the Hands of God

2011-04-17T20:47:00.001-06:00

In researching my article for the May edition of a city newspaper, I came across a thought-provoking article by C.L. Dyck.

She writes:

Confusing messages and jargon abound. Titus 2 womanhood. Complementarianism. Egalitarianism. Patriocentricity. Proverbs womanhood. And as sure as the day is long, wherever there’s jargon, there are those who will develop a trite or downright misguided sales product to interpret it. While it’s the American way, I question whether this is constructive to the journey of a woman as any kind of first approach. Is it really effective to reroute the search for feminine identity into consumerism? Particularly of the religious sort?

To read the full article, click here.

Need Your Input

2011-04-15T06:59:00.000-06:00

I'm looking for input for an article from women or men who do NOT look forward to celebrating Mother's Day and/or Father's Day, who find it difficult for their own reasons (eg. couples unable to bear children, adoptive child, bad relationships with parent or child, single people who desire family life, and any other reasons). If you have experienced anything in this realm, can you email me at harback@shaw.ca?

Tell me why it was/is difficult or painful for you and how you feel the body of Christ and/or the local church fellowship could recognize and adjust in order to promote healing for these painful situations? What have you have done personally to cope and help find healing for yourself?

I am seeking feedback from those who personally struggle with this (specifically not enjoying those special days), or from those who actively counsel others in this situation.

Inspiration, Creativity and Good Writing

2011-04-09T12:34:00.040-06:00

There really aren’t any shortcuts,

despite what you may hear.

The only thing standing

between you and your dream

is hard work and persistence.

~Michael Hyatt

I'm a freelance writer and poet. I've had a few dozen items published. I've blogged for five years, organized several seminars and writing workshops and host a monthly writers' group in my home. When it comes up in conversation that I am a writer, I sometimes hear another's dream of how they would like to write a book "someday." I want to tell them they'd better start last year. They usually comment about "waiting for inspiration." On one occasion, a colleague even asserted that what she wrote was a total gift from God. She didn't re-write anything. She was quite sincere and I'm sure she meant well, but the work she had self-published was, at best, mediocre. In essence, she was marketing a first draft.

God gets a lot of credit for poor writing. Creativity and inspiration are meant as starting points, not the sum total. Ask any author. Ask any artist for that matter. There are reasons why Michelangelo's David and the Sistine Chapel or Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey are masterpieces. They took intensive time and effort. Good writing of our generation is no different.

Michael Hyatt is the CEO of Thomas Nelson Publishers and a best selling author. He gives great leadership and industry advice on his daily blog and has nearly 98,000 followers on Twitter. He blogs on the myths surrounding creativity and work. It’s well worth the quick read. Check it out here: http://mhyatt.us/ifFRJt

To Eat or Not to Eat, That is the Question

2011-04-08T00:28:00.001-06:00

I miss my mother. I think she could help me understand what I need to do to get myself into the kitchen. I miss how she loved me enough to take care of me. That should be me. I neglect myself. I need to be like my mother.

You see, I don’t cook.

I can cook, I just don't. Not very often. Every time a meal goes by that I have not prepared, I feel a twinge of guilt. If I have guests and I cannot prepare them a meal, even for completely legitimate reasons, I lose just a little bit more self-respect.

Is cooking like a muscle? Use it or lose it? I have cooked. I took several years of home economics. I’ve forgotten most of it, the frequency dwindled down to occasional Norwegian Pancakes for breakfast, an annual Christmas turkey and the infrequent pot roast. I watch and marvel as friends host parties with exotic themes and serve international foods and flavours.

I bring buns or a veggie tray.

Some use their creative gifts to put together spices and flavors, balanced choices from the four food groups or fabulous desserts, blessing everyone around them with their culinary skills - like the artisan they are.

I feel a little crippled. I thought I'd come to terms with it, saying I don’t have that gift. Or desire. Or time. But it's troubling me more as time goes by.

I aim, instead, to nourish the soul and spirit more than the body. I write. This is something we all studied in school. But I do it more intentionally. This is a good thing. In brings in some income. But it does not bring families together around a table. Am I wrongly comparing gifts? Apples to oranges?

On the other hand, everybody has to eat. Not everybody has to write.

For me, neglecting the body seems to be poor stewardship. I don’t have to cook to nourish my body. If I cooked it would be less expensive financially but more expensive chronologically. I would have less time to write.

So I buy take-out. Not always junk food, but the best I can find. Or we eat out. It’s obvious that we don’t starve, but I think we are missing out on the best part of relationship. That sense that someone loves enough to nourish, and time spent basking in the glow of one another around an artistic meal.

Oops. There's the lie. "If only I were a good enough cook, I'd have better relationships."

Is this a practical matter of stewardship that I need to practice more? Or should I make peace with it? Is it possible that being a domestic goddess is NOT a calling for some people? Is this just resistance rearing its head? Or fear that my gift won't be good enough. (Another lie).

Would love to hear your thoughts.

The Truth About God's Love and Justice: It's a Win-Win

2011-04-07T18:55:00.002-06:00

Some of you read my response March 21 to the Bell-Piper controversy. In the guest column of this month's issue of City Light News, I write a bit more on the subject.

If you click the picture and are not able to read the article, you can find it on Page 5 here.

View by Request

2011-04-05T07:17:00.008-06:00

repost from poetry blog April 2008

Light on the bough tip
at the spruce top
starling rock me to rest in my nest

Alain Caron and Jazz Café
provide dancing music
for ears worn of winter’s howl

sweet cool breeze
smoothe away thought
of wintertaut skin

moist clouds
wash mountain tops and eyes
with glad tears for April sun

liquid lips kiss
away thoughts
of too-long nights

and wafting warmth from fresh earth
still my face
to taste the tannins of Easter peace.

Comparison: The Eighth Deadly Sin

2011-03-31T22:15:00.001-06:00

Comparison is the eighth deadly sin because we don't compare apples to apples. We compare apples to Perfection. We set ourselves up as judge and jury and blame X when we are disappointed that X falls short and doesn't measure up to Perfect. Stop comparing. Open yourself up to acceptance and expectancy. Learn how to leave room for pleasant surprises.

Embraced by Writing

2011-03-27T23:52:00.001-06:00

I've sent this to my local writers' group but thought maybe there are others of you who would appreciate the links and suggestions. Enjoy!

Progress and Publishing

I have been submitting work for publication. I had an article accepted for the Guest Column in the April edition of City Light News and will have a second smaller article in the May edition.
If you have a manuscript, I hope you will consider submitting it to the Word Alive contest. There is no entry fee. One of our own Calgary writers won this contest a few years ago. It is well worth the effort!
If you would like to take a class, the Alexandra Writers’ Society spring session is coming. For a course listing click here.

Local Meetings

Last month, during our February gathering, we reviewed the children’s story submitted by Kathy and a creative non-fiction piece from Joyce. Sue took us through a discussion on our writing goals and we tried several writing exercises, including one where we use our personal history to help us expand our characterizations in stories. Very intriguing. For a copy of the writing prompt, send me an email request.

The previous meeting in January, we watched a stimulating TED talk by Brené Brown called “The Power of Vulnerability.” You might find it helpful to think through the same things we discussed after watching it: how Brené’s research results relates to what we are or are not willing to put on the page In our writing, how we connect with others, our willingness to be vulnerable in print. I hope you will find the video helpful as you consider the same questions.

Have you heard of Ekphrastic writing? It is a type of writing that comments upon another art form, like a poem about a photograph or a novel about a film. Keats' "Ode on a Grecian Urn" is a prime example of this type of writing, since the entire poem concerns the appearance and meaning of an ancient piece of pottery. Another more extensive version could be Henri Nouwen’s work, “The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming” - a contemplative booklet based on his encounter with Rembrandt’s painting.

Ekphrastic Writing Exercise

Find a work of art (sculpture, painting, photograph, etc.) either on the internet, or better yet, in a gallery. Spend time looking at it, meditating on it, thinking about it and write a response to it. There are no rules. This is about two different types of art having a conversation with each other. Anything that surfaces from viewing the visual art. If you need examples, there are poetic examples here. However, you do not have to write in poem form. Essay, prose, even take a journalistic or a comedic approach. Whatever gets you to the page. Have fun with it. Would you be willing to share about the experience by commenting here? What worked? What was a barrier? What did you like about this exercise?

If you are in the Calgary area and would like to discuss this with us at our next meeting, it is scheduled for April 7, 7-9 pm. Send me an email for directions.

Enjoy, and happy writing!
Joyce

On Writing - Sarah Kay @ TED

2011-03-27T00:54:00.004-06:00

“It’s not just the adage: ‘Write what you know,’ it’s about gathering up all the knowledge and experience you’ve collected up to now, to help you dive into the things you don’t know. I use poetry to help me work through what I don’t understand but I show up to each new poem with a backpack full of everywhere else that I’ve been.”

Do the Next Thing, Without Murmuring.

2011-03-24T22:30:00.000-06:00

I work in a small church. With very nice people. Who, if they are bothered by it, do not say anything about me sneezing and blowing my nose all day long.

This too shall pass.

I am "suffering" with a very bad head cold. I have a new job. I have to deal with both. At the same time.

"Suffering" isn't the right term, considering a dear friend is undergoing radiation for a recurrence of cancer and Japan is trying to hold its head up and a parishioner's daughter just had brain surgery and somewhere a mother just buried her emaciated child.

Yet I am in physical pain. My eyes are watering, my head pounds, my lips are on fire, my throat is so raw I can't swallow without yelping. And I must respond properly. A little trial for a little while.

So I go to work and I take Tylenol and drink hot liquid. I wash my hands after every Kleenex encounter and I sneeze into my elbow and I say a prayer of thanks that those brain explosions only come about once an hour. And I can't think but I still try and I manage to do the most important things.

I know this is a little trial, but could you whisper a little prayer for me?

My own tiny piece of pain makes me realize what a huge burden my friends are facing. Lord have mercy. May I never forget.

...and they'll know we are Christians by our... tweets?

2011-03-21T05:10:00.000-06:00

I hate conflict. It makes me sick to my stomach. Whenever an argument erupts, I feel like I’m a preschooler again, cowering at the dinner table while two older brothers loudly debate dogma with my preacher dad.

So, on February 26 when I see on my Twitter feed, a dismissive tweet from pastor and author, John Piper, “Farewell, Rob Bell,” I’m the heart-broken adolescent sitting in the back pew of my home church silently crying while the senior pastor callously pounds a gavel to close a meeting that splits the congregation down the middle.

I watch the firestorm that ensues from those that support either Bell or Piper, the flurry of followers self-righteously blogging, name-calling and stone-throwing and I am once again the anxiety-filled high-schooler watching my parents weep over a letter from my favorite brother, telling us never to contact him again, “because life is too short to spend with people who don’t give a #$%! about doctrine.”

When doctrine and the knowledge of it becomes more important than exhibiting the fruit of the Spirit, we have strayed far from our mission. What we know may be the truth, but if we do not speak the truth in love, we are clashing cymbals.

How to Fall in Love Again in Four Minutes A Day

2011-03-20T01:21:00.001-06:00

(excerpted from this longer post at Ann Voskamp's blog, A Holy Experience)

It only takes four minutes a day to move into a deeper heart place. It only takes four minutes a day to connect in soul intimacy; to breathe in oxygen for the other half of my heart. Don’t, and I too begin to suffocate, the death heave. I wish someone had told me this in the beginning.

::

Four Fixations
Four times a day think on love.

When I leave the marriage bed…

leave the front door…

when I return to front door….

return to marriage bed.

These are the four critical archways of time in our day. Touch or whisper a sweet nothing when passing through these gate points, and we walk into hours of closeness. Forever love fixates like fresh love.

::

Four Embraces
Four times a day, wrap up in the life partner. Embrace fully and hold each other’s eyes. That’s all.

Repeat four times daily.

The one flesh breathes best when the skin pores are close; connected.

::

Four Affirmations
Four times during the day, thank him. For working faithfully to provide, for hanging up his towel, for putting gas in the van, for making this heart skip a wild beat.

Look for the ways to thank him/her and watch how (s)he moves closer.

4 minutes: 4 affirmations, 4 hugs, 4 fixations = Fresh Love

Mercy Without Condescension

2011-03-19T17:51:00.008-06:00

My friend Stephen Berg over at Grow Mercy asks, "What does mercy look like when it finally arrives without condescension?"

"Compassion is 'suffering with.' It is an immediate participation

in the suffering of another to such a degree that you forget yourself

and your own safety and spontaneously do what is necessary."

~ Joseph Campbell (Historian)

I have intentionally "helped" the homeless at least four times in the past year. Not a stellar record but a start. I examine my heart and mind each time I do this. I make small steps, because that is better than no steps.

I hand a gift card to the man on the corner. I offer a listening ear to the needle-marked, wild-eyed woman at Starbucks. I bring my Life Group to prepare a meal for clients of Inn From the Cold. We meet, serve and eat with them.

I hear their stories, I look into their eyes. I seek to understand.

I stretch past my white, middle-class inhibitions, thanks in part to people like Stephen who have been in the trenches and give a more informed framework to my worldview.

But some stories are complicated. As is mine. I want to grow in stature and understanding and mercy.

Where There is Need
There, by the grace of God, I will be
Let judgment cease, let Christ increase
in me, may His kingdom come
may His will be done
on earth, today
in me
belay heaven

Related links:
Momma Said There'd Be Days Like This "It's a long story," she said, and offered no more. I still cried.
Coffee Rations Who drove his retreat to that corner? A poem.
This Too Shall Pass Depression, homelessness and a crumpled snapshot of my life

The Current Buzz

2011-03-14T16:24:00.000-06:00

Writing at Starbucks is unique. Jazz on the sound system, hubbub of voices, cacophony of barista sounds: steaming milk, banging out coffee grounds, the breeze from outside wheezing in and around my feet with every door opening, the heating system drafting past my ears, chilling my shoulders, the loud hum of air fans and refrigeration units.

To some this is chaos, to others harmonious white noise. It is a conscious choice to block it out and in that blocking, focus on what is in front of me to do: write an article on popular leaders who have forgotten their manners and begun to publicly sting one another with tweets and blogs ranging from sarcasm to outright disdain.

In this context, I am trying to be neutral. This will get me the derision of some and the respect of others. No matter what the opinion of others, if I can shed a light on Big Boys Behaving Badly and bring a quiet voice into the mix, perhaps a few innocent worker bees will be spared the gut-wrenching controversy of feeling like they are supposed to take sides.

Because, at the end of the day, if we have not behaved as Jesus, then how can we say we are one of His? Jesus is the one who asked the hard questions, made the "blasphemous" statements (according to the prominent religious leaders of his day) and associated with sinners.

I know whom I have believed. He is able to defend his own name. In the current Twitter storm, some impulsive modern disciples, like Peter, have swung their 140-character swords in fear. There is a bigger plan, and your part in it is to examine yourself "whether you are in the faith." (2 Cor. 13:5) But you say, "What about him?" and Jesus replies, like he did to Peter, "What is that to you? You follow me." (John 21:22b)

Strive for full restoration, encourage one another, be of one mind, live in peace. 2 Cor. 13:11

My Life is a Prayer

2011-03-10T09:11:00.000-07:00

It sounds very spiritual until you look beyond the title.

Yesterday, I had my first day of on-the-job training. Today is a day off and I’m back at it again tomorrow. The dog decided that waking me up, whining, at 1:30 a.m. was a good idea. It wasn’t. Just to clarify, the dog was whining, not me. I reserved that for 5:30 a.m. when she woke me again. Of course, me whining at the dog is not nearly as effective as the dog whining at me.

After the skunk incident a few days ago, I am much more hesitant to go outside. I’m embarrassed at the level of fear it generates. The idea of surprising the stinker and becoming its victim is quite the anxiety inducer. Had it only been a skunk spotting, I would not bother me quite so much, but the aggressive actions by the striped fiend still feel threatening. I think rationally it is ludicrous to feel this way. I pray about my anxiety level.

I let the dog out without incident, then feed her and go back to bed. When my husband wakes me a half hour later to drive him to work, I am not as benevolent as in previous days, especially walking past our second car under its custom cover in the garage. The car he only takes out in the summer when the roads and sky are both completely clear. I pray to confess my resentment.

Riding as a passenger is always an exercise in steeling myself against the rapid lane changes, stop and go acceleration and speed fluctuations. I pray for protection, shut my eyes and focus inward. The song that has been playing in the background of my sub-conscious bubbles to the surface: “Oh how I need you Lord. I need your perfect word. With tearful eyes I see the sin that I afford. I need to weep and pray for all the thousand ways that I have failed you just today.” (1)

Yet God is faithful. My weakness, whining and lack of faith does not cause him to draw back or withdraw his grace.

Yes, my life is a prayer. I’m desperate for Him.

And to those who say, “Oh, your Christianity is just a crutch,” I say, no. It’s much, much more. I don’t just need temporary support or a little help. If God did not completely carry me, I would have checked out long ago. If Jesus had not died in my place, I would already have been dead. Were it not for faith (which he gives me) in his strength (which he gives me) I would be a raving lunatic.

So, yes. My life is a prayer. A desperate plea for help. A confession of my own weakness. A bare-faced, weak-winged soul-cry that knows its only hope is in Jehovah-Rapha, the God who heals; Jehovah-Jireh, the God who provides; EL-ROI, the strong one who sees. (2)

He sees me, he hears me, he answers, he saves.

My life is a prayer.
He is the answer.
He is grace.
He is love.
A gift.

.

First Day on the Job

2011-03-09T23:42:00.001-07:00

Feels like a blur.

It'll be fine.
Been there.
Done that.
Bought the T-shirt.
Wearing it again.

Lessons from a Skunk

2011-03-09T07:49:00.003-07:00

The dog woke me before 6 a.m. to go outside. I normally let her run, off leash, to the edge of the street where she relieves herself. Yesterday, when she went out about the same time, she had a very close encounter with a large, aggressive skunk who approached her, hissing, tail up, and chased her part of the way back up our driveway. Thankfully, my dog is quiet, not overly curious and obedient to my command to come. We escaped into the house with no incident.

The skunk felt my dog was invading her territory. It decided that an aggressive posture was the appropriate response. Of course, a skunk knows nothing about daily habits and property rights. It was responding “instinctively.” No pun intended, but that’s kind of funny.

In our lives, some people will embrace us fully. Others may reject us out of hand. All others will land somewhere on the spectrum between those extremes. Their acceptance is not a report card on us.

People don’t do things to us or because of us. They choose to do things for themselves. I don’t make you mad. I don’t make you happy. You react (conditioned by your upbringing, training, habits and choices through the years). You make a split second sub-conscious value judgment and choose your default emotional response for that situation.

All this happens in a split second, so that it almost feels instinctive. If the reaction is negative, we blame the other person: “You make me mad.” Or we project our insecurity onto them: “She must think I’m a total loser.” Those of us who have experienced more than our share of rejection will be more closed at initial meetings with new people. This defense mechanism makes it harder to enter into new relationships. Our self-protective body language might include crossed arms or averted eyes. The lack of engagement is interpreted by the other person’s filter and often triggers a mirrored response. Each concludes that the other is cold and non-accepting.

Rather than rely on our pre-conditioned reactions, we can actually make conscious choices to respond in a positive way. Having an open face, a smile, an outstretched hand, nodding, listening carefully, making direct eye contact – all these reflect open acceptance. Decide to be response-able. With practice and self-discipline, you are able to respond instead of react. Continue to persevere with positive conduct even with the other person does not reciprocate. Speak affirming words: “I’m so glad to meet you,” or take note of anything about them you can compliment. “That’s a lovely scarf,” or “Hey, nice tie.” Use your own words and your own style.

Oh, these are such trivial examples, but they open doors. If you have made a lifelong habit of blocking others out, you may need to think ahead of phrases to use in greeting others. Plan and practice. Try looking in a mirror when you do. Make eye contact with yourself. (Hard isn't it?) See how your face changes when you add a smile.

If you are already living life wholeheartedly and openly, don’t change. Be aware of those around you who may be drawing back, throwing up the defenses. Challenge yourself to see what you can do to draw strangers out, to illicit a smile. The cashier at the grocery store. The clerk at the gas station. The woman sitting alone down the row in church. The man who budged in line at Starbucks.

There are many you interact with on a regular basis. Some of them will remember you. They will certainly remember how you made them feel. The manager at the drycleaners has made an effort to get to know the names of her regular customers. We love returning to a business where we are greeted with a friendly, “Hello, Mr. & Mrs. Harback!” Other business interactions have resulted in the birth of long standing friendships.

As you go through your day, think of the number of people with whom your paths cross. If you treat them like they are invading your territory and chase them away like the skunk did my dog, you may be “safe” but you’ll be alone. There are very few, if any, people in the world who intentionally try to hurt others. Assume that everyone has a heavy burden they are carrying. They usually do. If you can lift their spirits by just one kind word, a genuine smile, a gentle touch, you have changed a little part of your world for the better. You may have even planted the seed for a future friendship.

You are interesting, bright, kind, accepting. All of us are hard-wired for positive connection with others. We need each other. The world needs you. Be who you are, regardless of how others treat you. When you let your light shine, you will begin to see the same positive behaviors mirrored back to you. And won’t that make a better world for all of us?

Random Gifts and a Few Lucid Thoughts

2011-03-06T01:45:00.001-07:00

A couple, with whom we have been friends for ages, gave us a reed diffuser which has been out since Christmas. Two days ago I turned the reeds over in the oil and refreshed the scent. Every time I walk by the living room, I think, "Mmm, that smells like baking, which I didn't have to do" and then I think of my friends and how nice it was of them to give me something that smells so great and reminds me of them every day.

My best friend - who kindly bullied me into making my writing public (and working to make it better) and inspired the beginnings of this blog - has a lovely alternate blog with quotes about writing which I read in its entirety tonight. I really love my friend.

I've been looking for work for six months. I've applied to at least one, often more, jobs per week and had a half dozen interviews which all went well and left me expectant. No job was delivered. I prayed a lot more than usual. This is a good thing. I began to wonder if I was barking up the wrong tree, aiming too low or thinking more highly of myself than I ought. I finally realized there is always work to be done. I may not be paid, but I can contribute in meaningful ways.

God is sovereign and waiting patiently for "the fullness of time" is an act of trust and worship.

On Friday afternoon, I received a phone call from a man, whose name I cannot yet pronounce, offering me a part time position in a nearby church. I believe it will be a place where I can contribute and serve wholeheartedly.

I have begun adding my gratitude to the list of #1000gifts now growing on Twitter. The objective is to see God's gifts in things small and large, to have eyes to see all things (and people) as God-sends. A book by the same title inspired the list. Reading the lists from others is a gratitude injection. I hope your weekend is full of new gift sightings!

"The secret to joy is to keep seeking God where we doubt He is."

~Ann Voskamp, Author: One Thousand Gifts

Buy it here

Why Source Your Quotes?

2011-02-28T08:32:00.004-07:00

Originality is the fine art of remembering what you hear but forgetting where you heard it. ~Dr. Laurence J. Peter

It is a gift for a writer to be able to create a one sentence quote which "is worth a thousand words."(1) Occasionally, we will find these on Twitter, limited to 140 characters. More often, they are lifted out of blog posts, books, speeches or published articles.

Dr. Peter's quote is tongue in cheek and typical of human behaviour. With Google, it only takes one or two searches using key words to discover who truly was the first to speak a quote. To not give them proper credit is, at best, lazy. Since it's a violation of copyright, the terms "thief" and "pretender" come to mind. Perhaps, though, it is simply ignorance or lack of respect, both of which could be overcome. Give credit where credit is due or it discredits you. It might even save you a lawsuit.

To an Unknown Destination

2011-02-24T00:38:00.009-07:00

the inbox echoes hollow
like an empty house
we’ve moved out
and moved on

gone our separate ways
a road diverged
in a yellow wood
a stream forced

to route itself
either side of the
great divide
and we are farther

apart than when
first we met
boxes of memories
lost enroute

Request in B flat minor: Can You Take Me to Work?

2011-02-23T08:11:00.000-07:00

A kind hand conducts itself in a dark room

taps my foot to wake me, the 5 a.m. request

accompanied by the sound track of his voice,

“I’ve showered. Getting dressed now.”

My distant drummer, not yet awake, leaves me

to set my own rhythm for the first movement

rousing my body out of the sheets

to the crescendo of morning.

It’s best if my part is muted, carefully measured

in this early light. Hair tousled, mind foggy.

Let the engine hum and the husband drive.

Let my tongue be silent in this symphony of duty.

Unhappily Married? Get an "I" Exam.

2011-02-20T14:59:00.000-07:00

Because you're not what I would have you be,
I blind myself to who, in truth, you are.
~Madeleine L'Engle

For most of my marriage, I pretended that I didn't expect my husband to change, when I really did. I lived in perpetual disappointment that he was not what I expected. I was resistant to the idea of accepting him for who he was. I did not yet understand the concept of being grateful for the gifts he brought to the marriage.

Please understand, none of this was my husband's fault.

In fact, when it comes to being disappointed, it is rarely anyone else's fault. Disappointment is that area that lies between my expectations and reality. The higher the expectations, the greater the disappointment. This is not to say that we abandon accountability for fulfilling our duty in relationships. That is a different blog post.

This post is about insisting MY standard be met and choosing to be petulant, self-righteous or vindictive when anyone else does not meet my standard. In common terms, "It's my way or the highway" or "If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy."

It is not because the truth is too difficult to see that we make mistakes. We make mistakes because the easiest and most comfortable course for us is to seek insight where it accords with our emotions, especially selfish ones. ~Alexander Solzhenitsyn

Ouch. Why is it so hard to see our own selfishness? Because of the mask. I not only wore a mask about who my spouse was, I also wore a mask about who I was. I read Madeleine L'Engle's quote again, applying it to myself, rather than another:

Because (I'm) not what I would have (me) be,
I blind myself to who, in truth, (I am).
~Madeleine L'Engle

Much of my unhappiness I blamed on others. Not recognizing that I held an impossibly high standard for myself, I was doomed to a life of disappointment. It is very difficult for most of us to accept personal responsibility and our natural inclination is to look for someone to blame. Don't we like that quote: "How can I soar like an eagle when I'm surrounded by turkeys?" Yeah, I'd be in a way different place if it weren't for everyone else holding me back.

Really?

Maturity has opened my eyes to the necessity of personal accountability first and foremost, being who I am, accepting who I am and loving who I am, without depending on praise or blame to prop up my self-image. It also involves accepting my mistakes and imperfections, making amends where necessary and seeking to let go of those things that are tripping me up.

In her latest book, "The Gifts of Imperfection," researcher and Ph.D. Brené Brown writes about the importance of letting go of who we think we're supposed to be in order to embrace who we actually are. Drawn from a decade of research, Ms. Brown affirms that this is the path to a whole-hearted life.

I longed to know these things as a newly married bride. So if you're disappointed with your spouse, perhaps you are like I was until only recently, blaming your spouse instead of looking at yourself. But be encouraged, you will find much good there.

As a jump start to your de-masking, let me share a summary of Brené Brown's guideposts to a whole-hearted and joyful life:

Cultivate authenticity: let go of what people think.
Cultivate self-compassion: stop expecting perfection from yourself.
Cultivate a resilient spirit: stop numbing (drugs, busyness, shopping, food, etc.) and let go of the idea that you are powerless. You aren't.
Cultivate gratitude and joy: let go of scarcity and fear.
Cultivate intuition and trusting faith: let go of your need for certainty.
Cultivate creativity: let go of comparison
Cultivate play and rest: let go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self-worth.
Cultivate calm and stillness: let go of anxiety as a lifestyle.
Cultivate meaningful work: let go of self-doubt and "supposed-to."
Cultivate laughter, song and dance: let go of being cool and "always in control."

Please understand, this is not some self-help guru writing about what she thinks will make you happy. This is a woman with a Ph.D. in social work writing about what she learned in ten years of research on shame and vulnerability. And how her life was destroyed and rebuilt in the process. She says, "The way to a wholehearted life is to make the conscious choice to believe... to believe in yourself and the possibility of living a different life," ...whether anyone else changes or not.

She concludes, "Living a wholehearted life is not like trying to reach a destination. These guideposts...are not a to-do list that we check off. It's life work. It's soul work. Owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing we will ever do."

Gifts like courage and compassion only work when they are exercised every day. This story is about the lifelong journey from "What will people think?" to "I am enough."

How does that apply to marriage?

I'll let Brené say it:

For me, believing was seeing. I believed first (that I was enough), and only then was I able to see how we can truly change ourselves, our families, and our communities. We just have to find the courage to live and love with our whole hearts.

If you want to learn more, read the book: The Gifts of Imperfection, available here.

Epitaph: The Résumé of Your Life

2011-02-18T08:22:00.002-07:00

I love quotes. My Twitter feed and Facebook status are peppered liberally with wise and inspiring words from notable scholars, experts and philanthropists. I also post items that make me think and, not nearly often enough, things that make me laugh.

Aren't epitaphs something like a favorite quote? Pithy sayings that attempt to sum up one's life? A few months ago, I was reading something which led me to post, "I would like my tombstone to read: 'She persevered.'"

How depressing.

Sincere. But uninspiring. Reminds me of the old Peanuts cartoon in which Charlie Brown's pitching never seemed to earn his ballteam a victory. At the end of yet another loss, he laments, "How can we lose when we're so sincere?"

Perseverance is an admirable virtue, don't get me wrong. Necessary for all achievement. But it also carries with it the secondary meaning of slogging it out through miserable circumstances without any real hope of accomplishment or victory.

As I have been conducting a job search for the past six months, I have persevered. With no visible results (ie. I don't have a job). Granted, I have two interviews scheduled in the next two weeks. However, I have been mulling how backwards the job search process is. How can I know if I would fit a job? Why should the employer hold all the cards? Shouldn't I rather determine if the job would fit me? That would be in the best interests of both parties and your clientele.

We've all seen it, the employee who is a bad fit: she absolutely hates her job and resents you, the customer, for requiring her to do it. The anxiety-riddled man who eventually becomes incapable of the simplest tasks because he’s been promoted to his highest level of incompetence. The person who takes a sick day every other week or the one who makes a fool of themselves at office parties.

But then there are the surprise endings. The engineer who discovers he's a poet. The nurse whose husband gives her painting lessons for Christmas and within two years, she has her own exhibition. The quiet gentleman who loses one job only to discover being his own boss as a finishing carpenter not only earns him a living, it earns back his self-respect.

So, yes. We must persevere. But let's be clear about why we are persevering. And let's be certain that we include more in our lives than just grunt effort. In my six months of persevering, I have also been clarifying what I value. What adds meaning and purpose to life. Because if a prospective employer doesn't value those same virtues, I'm sure the job will be a bad fit. No matter how much it pays.

I'd rather my tombstone said: "She was inspiring, kind and funny."

Perhaps that's what my resume should show too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What quote would sum up your life?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Quietness and Confidence?

2011-02-07T23:49:00.003-07:00

Since I was raised in a large family, we learned to speak loudly to be heard, interject ourselves into conversation to be noticed and demand attention in order to be acknowledged. Since all my other siblings were older and male, this became a competitive challenge. So, I never equated being quiet with being confident. Usually, the more confident I felt, the louder I became.

When I was in university, this verse of scripture became very meaningful to me:

"In quietness and confidence shall be your strength."

I initially believed this meant that I should keep silent and act confident. "Act confident and confidence will come," one co-worker often coached me. Unfortunately, with my rather staunch opinion, neither of these qualities lasts. I can zip my lip only so long.

And what am I confident about? What I know? Someone always knows more. My talents? There are such talented people in the world, there will always be someone more gifted than I. Experience? Rather limited in some quarters. Reputation? That can be lost in a moment, through one bad choice. Circumstances? Can we say "change happens?" Possessions? Money markets are fickle, thieves target, fire and flood destroy without partiality. Popularity? Ask any celebrity how long that lasts.

So I can't be quiet, and my confidence has shaky foundations. However, as time and circumstance wear away like an ocean tide, smoothing the edges and chips on this ancient rock, I have begun to see a glimpse of the wisdom of this verse, if my confidence is properly placed. My sanity depends on it.

The "quietness" in this verse is not an adjective of "confidence." They both stand alone. Both are required for strength. How quiet should I be? Is this only about the decibel level of my words or is this about my physical posture? Do I need to sit quietly?

"Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10

Or is this about waiting on the Lord?

"Wait on the Lord, be of good courage and he shall strengthen thy heart. Wait, I say, on the Lord." Psalm 27:14

In preparing to post this blog, I wanted to have the correct chapter and verse for "in quietness and confidence." There I had my surprise. It's in Isaiah 30 and the context is about spiritual rebels. Read it in full:

This is what the Sovereign LORD, the Holy One of Israel, says:

“In repentance and rest is your salvation,
in quietness and trust is your strength,”
but you would have none of it.

You said, ‘No, we will flee on horses.’
Therefore you will flee!  
You said, ‘We will ride off on swift horses.’
Therefore your pursuers will be swift!

A thousand will flee at the threat of one;
at the threat of five you will all flee away,
till you are left like a flagstaff on a mountaintop,
like a banner on a hill.”

Yet the LORD longs to be gracious to you;
therefore he will rise up to show you compassion.
For the LORD is a God of justice.
Blessed are all who wait for him!
Psalm 30:15-18

"You would have none of it." What a shudder went through me. The consequences followed. They chose their own escape, and they ran like weaklings at the whisper that five pursuers might be headed their way. The result is that there is nothing left of them. Total breakdown.

"You're a flagpole on a hill with no flag, a signpost on a roadside with the sign torn off." (verse 18, The Message)

So what is the formula for strength, not fear? For learning how to live day to day in this crazy, ever changing world with calmness and over-arching confidence? The Lord said it at the beginning: repentance, rest, quietness and trust. All based in a God of justice who longs to be gracious to you.

It's a simple A + B = C formula:

Quietness of heart + Confidence in God = Strength for the wild journey

The God of the universe longs to be gracious to me? If I accept that, instead of my human response: rebel, run away, numb my fear with the drug of the day, or work until I drop to attain recognition and praise, for what? I'm simply striving to obtain what I have already been given. If I wait for Him, the end result is clear: I receive salvation and strength, compassion and blessing.

Of that, I am quietly confident. How about you?

What to do, what to do?

2011-02-03T22:38:00.000-07:00

On the heels of a dilemma, it's quite interesting to mull about what answer I shall give if/when I finally receive that illusive job offer. I've had three interviews in the past week and decisions are currently being made without me about me. Since I believe God is sovereign, I have to conclude that he has something different in mind if no offers are forthcoming from this round of interviews.

One job is in the financial ballpark of the compensation amount I had hoped for. But it comes with less responsibility than originally suggested. Another is in oil & gas with a company whose door had so far resisted my foot getting in it. Not quite the task list that makes my heart sing, but a likely opening to other opportunities - if I do my best.

And then today, a most delightful interview with a non-profit for a role that sounds more like playing at recess than work. Lovely colleagues, beautifully decorated spaces, noble mission. A place congruent with my values, dedicated to (literally) saving lives and enriching relationships. Social media, public speaking, writing. Stop the cartwheels, my heart, this is a role I would almost volunteer to do. And in a sense many non-profit workers do just that: work more for the eternal value than personal gain.

After each interview, however, I go away with foreboding joy, listing all the reasons why they probably wouldn't offer me the position. It's a fickle thing, this mind of mine. When I sit to number my strengths, they are varied and numerous. When I sit to explain these to others, I become reticent, for fear of being a braggart.

So I do the only thing I can and entrust my work to my faithful Creator. He knows my need. He has my name tattooed on his hand. He knows the number of hairs on my head. And he knows what makes my heart sing. Perhaps, just perhaps, he's waiting for the fullness of time to lead me to a role that begins to tap into all the skills and abilities I have developed from previous jobs and yes, even the wisdom I've gained from the stupid mistakes I've made.

God's sovereignty and my patience. Two companions in a faithful boat.

The Collision of Attention

2011-01-31T15:51:00.000-07:00

It was 3:24 p.m. today before I got my first glimpse of the mountains. It’s not that I didn’t have a chance to see them before that time, I just hadn’t been paying attention.

I was away all weekend in Edmonton at Break Forth 2011, an equipping and renewal conference. I drove home in bitter cold under clear blue skies this morning. Then I rushed off to a job interview regarding a contract position for which the title is larger than the role. It has potential but doesn’t make my heart leap for joy. I’m praying hard about that one, so I know how to respond if they decide to make me an offer.

After that, I finally settled down at home to catch up with the email that accumulated while I was away. As I leaned back to answer one, I lifted my eyes to the mountains. The railing was covered with several inches of snow so most of the view was obscured except for a short span where the snow had fallen away. Mount Glasgow rises like an Egyptian pyramid and the hazy cold blends the line between peak and sky.

When I lift my eyes, I always think of the Psalm. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, maker of heaven and earth.

When I woke to wind chills greater than minus 40, I wondered if I should make the drive home today. With those frigid temperatures, some vehicles simply stop operating. And, my knee was bothering me after a spill on slippery sidewalks. The pain had meant a rather restless night. So, I turned to the maker of heaven and earth for advice.

I opened the Bible and the first verse I saw said, “Do not be afraid.” I went on to read Psalm 31 and it reassured me further that I was cared for by a loving God, there was no need to worry. Still, I prepared myself for emergency: dressed in multiple layers, thermos of hot coffee, snow boots and emergency blanket at the ready, jacket on, cell phone handy in the pocket.

I realized once again during the drive that it only takes a millisecond of distraction to cause a collision. I watched a vehicle in front of me drive somewhat harmlessly into the ditch (into deep, deep snow) with no apparent cause other than driver error. I also came upon two slow moving vehicles at two places along my journey: one a snow plow, and the other a semi trailer truck with a full load pulling away from the shoulder back onto the highway. Both were obstructing my lane and due to ice fog, I did not have a long time to react. Had I been momentarily distracted, I surely would have run into one of them.

I truly believe God prompts us to pay attention. In those situations, we have a responsibility to prepare properly and drive alertly. As we pray for his protection, we also exercise good judgment and take necessary precautions. Yet human nature is sometimes distracted and this is where I believe God does intervene through promptings, conscience or angels, I do not know. I just know it supersedes my human ability.

So when I saw the mountains today, it was as if God was reminding me of his constant presence. Whether I pay attention or not, whether I look or not, he is always the silent sentinel, standing guard. Our stronghold in times of trouble. The one who keeps his flock like a shepherd. Sends his angels to keep charge over me. Or rises like a mountain to bless me with beauty, safety and peace. If that doesn’t get my attention, I don’t know what will!

Worship Leadership Session: Brian Doerksen

2011-01-28T18:01:00.000-07:00

Today I sat in on an all-day intensive learning session on Worship Leadership with Brian Doerksen (a.m.) and Paul Baloche (p.m.). For my friends that have asked, here’s a summary from the morning session with Brian. I missed the first 30 minutes of his session and what follows is my paraphrase of his talk, not direct quotes. I have tried to be faithful to the spirit of what Brian shared.

Worshipping "In Spirit"

We are created to be worshippers and we are good at it. We are not so good at choosing the object of our worship. When we take anything or anyone, including good things, and try to make them “ultimate” in our lives, this is misdirected worship. This is idolatry: when we love people or things with a love that should be reserved only for God. These things eventually begin to crack under the pressure of our worship. No one and nothing is designed to handle the pressure of being God.

Only God is the Ultimate. Everything else (children, spouse, job, pastor, friend, possessions and so on) we must hold with an open hand. They can be taken at any moment. Your health, your life, your family, anything.

Brian recommended the song “Love From a Lesser God” by Ten Shekel Shirt. The song is available on iTunes and the lyrics can be read here.

We were created hungry so we would be driven by hunger to the only One who can satisfy. David was hungry. Yet, he was not sexually pure, he did evil, he had trouble with his marriages. Yet the scripture says “he did everything God wanted.” His kids were problems, partly because David was an absent father and he was famous. He also did things he wanted for selfish reasons, but he repented. He was called a man after God’s heart. He hungered after God.

When we worship God, we do what satan abandoned long ago. When we worship the living God, he remembers and it makes him furious. So he tries to get us to worship lesser gods.

Brian quotes Louie Giglio: All music is worship music. Every song is amplifying the value of something. There’s a trail of our time, affection, allegiance and devotion that leads to a throne and what ever is on that throne is our god. We all do a really great job because we are created to be worshippers, the problem is, some of us have really bad gods.

Hosea: “In you the fatherless find compassion.” Fatherless worship is idolatry, orphaned thinking and living.

John 4:23 True worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth for they are the kind of worshippers the Father seeks.” He’s the one seeking us.

God is not a “power” or a set of principles. Though he does have power and principles, he is a person, a spirit. True worship doesn’t start with us. The father initiates our lives, makes an amazing plan, releases us when we want to leave him. The more you try to hold people and convince them to stay, the more you will not feel love. He waits. He releases. He is not codependent.

When we worship God, we worship one who is invisible in the physical realm.
Idols are visible. Our worship of God is a response to his written and whispered words. Deep calling to deep.

Worshipping "In Truth"

To be true worshippers, be saturated with God truth. In your study, ask yourself, “What do the scriptures reveal about God and his character and actions in the world?”

Worship starts with receiving. Worshipping God for who he is and what he has given. As worship leaders, we have to demonstrate that we believe that. We need to understand by laying down our own choice our music, our song, our service.

Worship means to surrender, submit, bow prostrate.

The biggest test of whether we are real worshippers is what we are willing to lay down. Your most important expression of worship is what you are willing to NOT play, not sing, not write.

An orphan has to make a name, create his/her position, “applaud me, stroke me, tell me my song is amazing” When you are well fathered, you can head for the hills, you are not dependent on affirmation. We can be secure enough that we can make way for other people. I’m loved by the father.

The worship of God in spirit and truth is an open-handed, grace-filled life, it is not “performed.”

Read Matt. 10:29-31 This speaks of our value – Don’t strive for what you’ve already been given.
Sparrows fall. This is about death. If we have faith and comfort when it comes to death we have faith and courage when it comes to life.

Suffering: if we are called into God’s family, shouldn’t we be protected from falling? Suffering exists because of the fall and the original couple’s choice to follow the counsel of the serpent instead of God. They became willful orphans.

The Father hears our cry. We are no longer orphans. Brian illustrated this by sharing a story called Abba Changes Everything, an article by Russell D. Moore in Christianity Today. Find it here: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/article_print.html?id=88275

Psalm 27:10 Even if my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will hold me close.

We’re worshippers and we seek transcendence in things that are limited. Consumables. Things that aren’t truth. Eastern mysticism. If we would cry out to our father, God runs to us with open arms.

Biblical worship is letting the love of God find you.

Get to know Brian and his work:

Website: http://briandoerksen.com/
Current Project, Prodigal God: http://www.prodigal-god.com/
Book: Make Love, Make War: http://www.amazon.com/Make-Love-War-Time-Worship/dp/1434766829

My gift to you on this blue Monday

2011-01-17T14:57:00.001-07:00

Pardon My Dust

2011-01-13T01:45:00.000-07:00

An apology to those of you who follow this blog or subscribe via RSS feed. I got into an organizational frenzy tonight, deciding to amalgamate three blogs into one. This one.

So, it is entirely possible that you may have received several dozen email updates of those blog posts which I re-published after importing from the other blogs I am deleting.

My sincere regrets that I could not turn off that feature. Or if I could have, did not take time to learn how to do so. There won't be such a flurry again. You have my word. And apparently quite a number of my words.

Delete them and relax. Thanks for still reading this far. You are a true friend indeed.

Un-decorating

2011-01-10T01:54:00.004-07:00

Tomorrow begins the process of putting away Christmas decorations. I get a little melancholy thinking about how bare the house will feel after the glittery twinkle, cosy comfort and colourful splashes of festive Christmas are gone.

I could potentially leave out my snowpeople. They make winter more friendly. I've never seen one with a frown. They all have a very large half-moon curve of a smile. A dozen extra smiles around the house would be just what the doctor ordered.

I have also never seen a skinny snowman. Yet they are all so happy. Perhaps there is a lesson to be learned there.

The Year of Un-Expectations

2011-01-08T12:20:00.002-07:00

There are very few people in my life for whom I would sacrifice my normal Saturday sleep-in time. This morning was the first week our small group from church met at our new early Saturday morning time. I am not a morning person, at all, so you know these people mean a great deal to me.

Today we talked about the relational dynamics of an effective small group: the power of vulnerability, the fear of disconnection, the disappointment of expectations and the courage to share whole-heartedly.

In every relationship, I want to live and share out of my authentic self. This same transparency is absolutely essential for small groups and for one-on-one relationships. Transparency is harder to attain in large groups because we naturally put up walls as a means of self-protection. The larger the group, the greater the perceived risk of betrayal. Transparency suffers. Relationships may become shallow and unsatisfying.

We are all wired differently in the ways we are energized by being with people. Some prefer one-on-one, others small groups, still others love the big party. One member shared today that he intentionally limits the number of his friendships. Another member said she asked her son if he had enough friends. Her son replied, “I don’t need as many friends as you do, Mom.”

If we look at friendships as a numbers game, we can get an overload of casual friendships which strain expectations when we become too busy to spend quality time cultivating each one. Invariably, we disappoint someone.

I was struck by the idea of intentional limits. This sounds so much more palatable than “lower your expectations.” Setting boundaries leads to a more sustainable pace. A sustainable pace provides better quality of life and lends itself to making deeper, more satisfying connections.

So, instead of being disappointed and exhausted from a hectic pace of life this year, I am declaring this to be my year of un-expectations. Where I am feeling stressed, it is a signal to re-evaluate if I need to set some limits.

How will this take shape? This year of Un-Expecations?

Limit the number of friends, Facebook time, twitter posts, regular commitments and impromptu appointments.
Demand LESS of myself and others. This does not mean I abandon duty. On the contrary, it becomes my priority. However, my duty is not “perfection.”
Relax into creativity. Muse more.
Savor the freedom of anticipation

As I limit my expectations and put my hope in God, not people, I open a window to the possibility of surprise. Pleasant surprise.

Yes. The year of Un-Expectations.

What does your year look like? Are you saying goodbye to disappointment?

Sorry, Judy

2011-01-03T21:41:00.010-07:00

Judy told me once she liked the links and quotes I post from others, but wanted to know where my voice was. Looking at my recent blog posts, I see I have about one original for every 10 quotes/links. However, you know those quotes and links echo some of my thinking. I don't post anything that doesn't make me either laugh, cry, nod or think harder.

Here's another link to a very positive suggestion about how wives can encourage their husbands. I think there are far too few people talking about this, especially women. Too much man-bashing goes on in EVERY arena. I think we need to go back to Thumper's family advice (from Disney's "Bambi" movie):

"If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."

But then again, I know that rule has rendered some women completely mute because they refused to ever say anything nice. Perhaps, though, that WAS a nice break for their husbands. Ha.

Set resentment aside and try one or two of these, see if your attitude or his doesn't turn around, even just a little bit:

Ten Things Husbands Want to Hear From Their Wives

.

Clarity for the New Year

2011-01-01T23:04:00.000-07:00

Over at Grow Mercy, Stephen Berg makes an interesting list of unfounded propositions for the end of 2010. Enjoy it and perhaps attempt your own. I am musing about my mine. Look for it in a future post.

Click: http://growmercy.org/2010/12/31/year-end-list-of-unfounded-propositions/

.

Are You an Applause Addict?

2010-12-30T14:21:00.001-07:00

Musing about our social interactions with each other, no matter what form they take.

Today I found myself re-reading a comment on my Facebook status and wondering if I had clicked "like" on it. (I cannot tell on my iPhone because it does not have all Facebook functions.)

I want to affirm others and acknowledge their support because I appreciate when others do that for me. I don't always succeed because of distractions, limited time and Facebook glitches. However, I knew I'd gone over the edge when I briefly wondered if I could "like" that someone "liked" my status.

"Like" - that seemingly innocuous thumbs-up under Status - has recently been added under every Comment as well. Sometimes I didn't even know the person, yet my morale was boosted by a stranger's affirmative "like" after one of my comments. It is vaguely reminiscent of Sally Field's oft-mocked Oscar acceptance speech: "You LIKE me."

Do you pay more attention to status updates based on the number of likes or comments? One friend dismisses status updates as "mind games." Another rolls her eyes at the "nauseatingly cute" updates of one friend or the patronizingly intellectual remarks of another. Some people rant or preach, others bore, a few seem desperate for attention. Still others compete with funny, controversial or thought-provoking quotes.

Except it's not a competition. Sure, everyone likes to win first place, front of the line, Top Dog status. Problem is, human nature is prone to one-upmanship, comparisons and judgement. We have raised a generation of "American Idol" voters who feel its our right to say who is or is not worthy. Ironically, Facebook began this way, comparing one sorority co-ed to another. Now, with its Likes and Comments and listing how many friends each of us have, the entire social media experience can send even the more mature adults among us back to adolescent emotional reactions.

Back in the day, did you worry about popularity? I don't remember being conscious of it in high school other than being able to point at others who I thought were popular. At least that's how I remember it now. Popularity really depends upon that fickle and unstable measurement of Comparison.

Ah, but isn't this whole subject really about love? Everyone has an innate need to be acknowledged, known and loved. We want to make a contribution, to be capable, wise or funny. We long to be accepted, to have our value affirmed by others.

Are you not happiest, most content and beautiful when you feel loved? Victor Hugo, French poet and author of Les Misérables and The Hunchback of Notre-Dame said,

"Life's greatest happiness is to be convinced we are loved."

Facebook can be one tool people use to communicate and seek that love. Sadly, some gauge their fragile value based exclusively on this fickle arena of public opinion.

Depending solely on others for our sense of self worth can, at best, be a roller-coaster ride and worse, can be emotionally crippling. This escalates when a competitive nature drives you to constantly measure yourself against the stature of others. It can motivate us to lay aside personal preferences or even moral values as we desperately seek acceptance, applause or affection.

Some are so desperate, they will simply settle for any kind of attention, like the person who acts out because even negative attention is better than no attention.

Many other authors have written great volumes about self worth and loving yourself. While they are knowledgable and well-spoken, and I grant a healthy self-concept is a necessary part of a balanced emotional life, self-acceptance alone isn't the answer. In fact, unguarded self-love can leave a person arrogant, socially unaware or relationally blind.

There is no other place or person I have found more healing than the words of the one who made me. The one who saves me from all this roller coaster, comparative, destructive, competitive jockeying-for-position and offers complete, unqualified acceptance and unconditional love. Who better to know our value than the one by whom we were created?

The psalmist, David writes,

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
you formed me in my mother's womb.
I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking!
Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
before I'd even lived one day.

So my Creator knows everything about me, past, present and future, and chooses to love me because that was the plan from eternity past. However, as Victor Hugo says, I need to "be convinced." There are days when I screw up, my emotions collapse, depression descends and everything is black. And there are many days I still think my actions and behaviour either earn love or disqualify me from it.

However, in the book of Romans, the apostle Paul says,

"Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ’s love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins..None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us." from Romans 8

And now in my opinion this is the best, most convincing part:

"I’m absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us."

Not even Facebook.

Not how many likes or friends I have. Nothing separates me from love. Be convinced. Believe the truth. You ARE liked. You are loved. God has chosen to be your friend - the only friend who will never leave you, forsake you or unfriend you.

Put THAT in your Status and Like it!

--------------------------------------------------

If you want to read more about what Paul writes in Romans 8,
click here: http://is.gd/jNbGz

or the Psalmist's wisdom about our creation in Psalm 139,
click here: http://is.gd/jN6OI

What are your thoughts and experiences? Talk to me!

Merry Christmas, Indeed

2010-12-25T01:45:00.003-07:00

It has been a challenging December and the anticipation of another Christmas without extended family left me morose. I had a lovely birthday on the 21st but other things were disconcerting and beyond my ability to remedy. So when we sang, "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear," I was stirred and gripped by these words:

O ye beneath life's crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow;
Look now, for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing;
Oh rest beside the weary road
And hear the angels sing.

It is right, SO right and true and good to rest in the middle of our weariness to hear the angels sing. The challenge with depression is that it removes any desire to be extroverted and gets one so self-absorbed that the tendency is to curl up into a self-contained ball and roll away into denial. We must keep our eyes and hearts open to the glad and golden hours which come swiftly.

We rest by making a change. Getting out. Giving to others. Going beyond our perceived limits helps us discover that those limits were simply illusions and we are capable of far more than we dream. Listen to the singing of the angels: Fear not. Glory goes to God, stop seeking it for yourself. Unto you is born a savior.

He is.

Stop trying to save yourself. He's already done the work. Rest.

Hear the angels cheer.

.

This Too Shall Pass

2010-12-16T09:40:00.006-07:00

"Confess your faults to each other and pray for one another, that you may be healed."

Just a warning that for some of you, this post will cause you to lose all respect for me. For others, it will help you feel superior. For a prospective employer reading my blog to decide if I'm a chance they are willing to take, this might be a deal-breaker. But for others, you may identify with the reality of living with episodic depression. It’s a killer of everything you ever thought you were, every way in which you ever achieved, any strength you once held. Feeling like you are teetering on the edge of falling forever from grace, knowing you’re held only by God’s mercy. Holding onto hope that once again, in a day soon to come, you’ll be able to be normal again. And still in the middle of it, caring enough to try to help another, or at the very least (or the very most) lift them to God in prayer. If that doesn’t scare you or make you cry, then don’t read on. This post isn’t for you.

Perhaps the reason I am drawn so to homeless people is recognizing that “there, but for the grace of God, go I.” Perhaps it’s more than having an understanding. Perhaps it is fear. I am drawn, revulsed and warned all at once.

Today, the quiet, patient, homeless man I “helped” one Friday was pacing wildly in front of the same Starbucks. Was he using? Had no one responded to his need this morning?

Daily, I wonder what I could do to truly help him. Sustainable, long term transformative help. Daily, I wonder and daily I conclude, “Nothing,” and drive on.

Today, I wavered. What if I walked up to him, laid my hand on his arm, looked in his eyes and asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” Isn’t that what Jesus asked? Would I really be like Jesus if I did that? Could I answer the man’s request? What is the likelihood that he would ask me for something I would be unable to provide? Does he truly want help? Can he even change? Does he want to? Could he sustain it?

I think about Mother Teresa, how she sacrificed everything to serve the poor, needy and abandoned and felt it was no sacrifice. But I’m married. I have a son. University tuition. Obligations. Would my husband be willing for me to supply this man’s request? I’m a lone woman approaching a strange man in the dark, would it be safe?

All this before 7 a.m. while sitting at a brief red light beside Starbucks. Then the light changed, and with it, my perspective. I drive on in a fresh, black morning onslaught of personal melancholy. I muse about asking the homeless guy to help me. Help me learn to live on the street, to escape my reality. How quickly I could blend into the look. Sleep in the car. I’ve already practiced the unkempt clothes and unwashed face, almost every morning when my husband rouses me to drive him the one hour round trip to work because he loathes public transit.

Hair askew from the wrong hairstyle against an unforgiving pillow, I pull a headband over the unruly parts, throw an over sized ski jacket over yesterday’s crumpled clothes I just re-dressed myself with from where they’d been discarded on the floor overnight. But why begrudge this small favor to my spouse, when, for 30 years, he has faithfully worked to provide for our family. I don’t have a job. It’s not my husband’s fault I can’t get to sleep until the wee hours of the morning and feel unrested when he rouses me. It’s the least I can do to give him a ride. Doesn’t charity begin at home?

Today, I uncharitably ask my husband not to try to carry on a conversation with me. This is definitely not the time. Overwhelmed with fatigue, I resort to whining: “I feel like I’m spending my life waiting for something to change.”

What, though? For a job to miraculously appear? The two promising avenues are in the slow lane, and won’t resurface again until after the New Year. I just flip back and forth between helping a homeless person and becoming one myself.

Perhaps the change I need is in my medications. Except I’m not taking any. Not even vitamins. I can hear someone saying, “Well, that’s your problem. What you really need is…(fill in the blank with another holistic healthcare or alternative self-medication option).”

Perhaps I need more light. Seasonal affective disorder can be helped with special lights. My friend has offered to loan me hers. She’s better. But the season is changing soon. After my upcoming birthday on the winter solstice, the days begin to grow longer.

I’m sure my moods would change if I altered my eating, sleeping and exercise habits. Personal self-care is the first best remedy to almost any difficulty. Bad habits have become ingrained and cemented in my days. By now some of you are thinking, “What a loser, why doesn’t she just… (fill in the blanks).” I know. I know. I know it all. Most homeless people do too. It’s the “doing” that’s the kicker.

“Yes, Virginia, there is…” no remedy. And I follow up my “waiting for change” remark to Brent by saying, “…and I can’t change myself.” Talk about shirking responsibility. Or am I?

It’s not that I am incapable. It’s like Dolly Parton (insert high-pitched country twang here): “I kin dew that, but it just pluuuuuuuumb tuckers me out!”

There are so many skills I know how to apply, but I’m exhausted in the trying. So much so, that lately I don’t even start. I just think about it and am overwhelmed with fatigue. Mental. Emotional. Spiritual.

How do I change in the throes of melancholy. Is it full blown, out of control depression? This is rhetorical, please don’t offer advice. Unless you’re willing to come alongside and be my personal mentor, life coach, cook and bottle washer, don’t give platitudes and don’t preach. Unless you can love me like you’re my mother and comfort me like the Holy Spirit, don’t speak. Unless you’re prepared to lay down your life for your friend, will you even recognize her need without reading this excessively self-indulgent blog post?

What if it isn’t me? What if someone you see every day is depressed? Or homeless? Or lonely? Or despairing? Can you (can I?) look beyond our own borders to see the need and meet whatever part of it we can?

My melancholy comes and goes. Others live with it forever. Can you (can I?) be dispensers of hope? Like the widow in the story of Elisha whose obedience ensured the oil and flour never ran out, can we take the last of what we have and give it to another who asks of us, trusting that “(our) God will supply all (our) need, according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.”

Maybe it’s time I got up and made some Plum Tuckered Out Pudding for Christmas. I’m going to suck it up, sister. Are you with me?

Now, I have to go because a friend who can’t drive needs to run some errands. See? That I can do. I’m feeling better already.

P.S. I love you for reading this far. Pray for me.

Update, Feb. 18, 2011: I'm feeling much better. :-) Thank you for your prayers. I briefly debated about deleting this post from my blog, knowing that prospective employers could well be reading it. I have chosen to leave it as is. I believe authenticity and vulnerability are crucial to who I am as a person. I don't spill this information indiscriminately to everyone I meet. I assume those who come to my blog do so out of a personal interest to know me better, to be encouraged and, on occasion, to laugh. I read the comments in reply to this particular post and see that more than one person was encouraged. For me that is enough. So, if you are a prospective employer and this blog post is a deal-breaker for you, then I am grateful, as I would not have been a good fit in your organization. Too bad, though. I think I could have helped you grow more compassionate.

Update, Mar. 19, 2011: After a seven month search, I began my new job last week. The focus and intensity of meaningful work, combined with intentional gratitude, dispels depression. Thank you to those who have been my encouragement and prayer partners. You changed my world.

Intentional Retreat

2010-12-12T21:28:00.002-07:00

I just got back from an intentional 24 hour retreat.

Since I was young, I have had a melancholy temperament. Sometimes I need silence and solitude when I am approaching the edge of my social restraint. I go away to re-group in hopes that the negative does not spill into my relationships. I traveled three hours north to attend an event filled with thoughtful music and poetic prose. It was a bitterly cold night, but stories and ideas from other writers and musicians wrapped cosy warm around me like a sheepskin blanket.

Then I sat, quiet, for the rest of the evening before bed. No internet. No television. No one else present. I spent several hours thinking, listening to more music. Transcribed lyrics that break my heart and heal it at the same time.

Ocean

Am I the tree or just the leaf?
Who am I without you?
Simple truth or your belief?
Who am I without you?

Am I the heart or just the beat?
Who am I without you?
To be embraced or just to greet?
Who am I without you?

Am I the first?
Am I the last?
Who am I without you?
Perfect present or the past?
Who am I without you?

Am I the ocean?
Am I the ocean or the breeze?
Am I the yes?
Am I the “Yes” or just a whisper “Please”?

by Andrea House
from the album: The Same Inside

I do not know about whom these lyrics are written. I cannot assume that Andrea is writing about herself, though she may be. And who is the “you?” It could be a love relationship, a parent-child, or perhaps, it is about the divine.

Who am I without my spouse? Who am I without my friends? My child? Even deeper, who am I without my blame or my excuses?

A friend recently admitted she had held onto resentment and blame for so long, now she didn’t know who she was without her hurt.

When I am silent and otherwise alone, no family, no friends, no distractions, no hurt, no delight, no pleasure…

Then, standing naked without costume, human approval or personal pretense, who am I?

Who am I without You?
Am I the yes?
Am I the “Yes” or just a whisper “Please”?

Am I the “yes” to God? The yes to self-denial? The yes to taking up my cross (dying to my rights, opinions, desires) daily and following Jesus willingly down paths I would never have chosen? Paths that require painful sacrifice?

Or am I the “please”? Please help me? Please spare me? Please let this cup pass from me? Please let your plan be an endorsement of mine? Or please, God, make me over? Take me over?

For no matter how many promises God has made, they are “Yes” in Christ. And so through him the “Amen” is spoken by us to the glory of God. 2 Corinthians 1:20

Am I the yes? No. Christ is. Flesh wrapped over Deity. Emmanuel. God with us.

Can I be the yes? Yes. With Christ in me, the hope of glory. Through him, the Amen, the “so be it,” can be spoken by me. Deity wrapped over my flesh. When I “put on Christ,” I can learn to say, “not my will but Thine.”

To the glory of God.

Yes. and Amen. Your kingdom come. Now. On earth. In me.

Please.

!

Christmas Hummmmmm Bug

2010-12-10T00:09:00.006-07:00

I have been dancing in the stores to some of the best Christmas music I have heard in many years. I should clarify, it wasn't really dancing... I don't dance. In fact, a good Christmas gift might be "Dancing for Dummies." Since I grew up in a home where dancing was verboten, my little jig in the shops was far more internal "jumping for joy" than external movement. In fact, the little toe shuffling, head bobbing and barely perceptible hip movement may well have looked more like someone trying to squirm out of uncomfortable foundation garments.

I don't dance.

I also don't shop. Not unless I absolutely have to. But I hum.

My life these days is a mix of beauty and chaos. I have been kept from dancing a dirge by some incredible friendships. Every interaction leaves me extraordinarily satisfied, even if it may just be chatting over dinner or while following a knitter (hunting yarn bargains) around Michaels or making fused glass or, best yet, letting everything spill and have a friend pick it up and tenderly brush it off and give my heart back to me whole.

The house is not humming. I've hardly been home. I've had appointments ranging from testing for a job to attending the church Christmas production and making the annual trek to the dentist. The current decor is an eccentric smattering of a little Thanksgiving, clashing with a couple Christmas poinsettias. Outdoor lights are still indoors. The coffin-sized Christmas tree box in the basement may as well be six feet under when the man of the house has a strained back and can't help lift. Christmas baking recipes are strewn on the kitchen table, as yet unbaked. Lights are burned out. Dishes are piling up.

And then I needed something fancy-sparkly to wear to hubby's Long Service Award Ceremony (30 years) and the adjacent holiday party. It's an all-day affair today beginning at 11 a.m. It's amazing how many delightful casual clothes I can find when I'm supposed to be looking for something dressy. I finally settled for something that "draws attention to my eyes" at 30% off. Did I mention that when I DO shop, I abhor paying full price? Then tonight I realized my brand new glittery outfit with my 2 year old dress shoes would be about as attractive as a poinsettia next to a pumpkin, so I ran out last night and grabbed acceptable, relatively inexpensive shiny shoes just before the shoe warehouse's 9 p.m. close. Then I slipped into Wal-Mart for some antacid. Sigh.

What did I tell you? Chaos.

But I dance (or bounce or sway or shake the foundations) inwardly if not outwardly. I share music videos on Twitter and Facebook. Carollers in costume show up in the obscure little dress shop where I'm browsing. Coincidence? I think not.

And I hum.

Because I have so much for which to be grateful. And I'm reminded of what Christmas is all about by sister bloggers Kay and Evangeline and especially Ann. So even in my forced shopping, browsing and blog surfing, I'm humming along with the spirit of the season.

I guess in spite of not "being ready" for Christmas, I still managed to catch the "Hum" bug. How about you? What are you doing to get through this season without losing sight of the Source of every good and perfect gift?

Journaling: Links, Books, Resources

2010-11-26T14:39:00.015-07:00

This weekend I'm presenting a workshop on journaling in its many forms. The online resources are significant, but I'll share a few links here to books, documents, reports and websites that may apply to your particular area of interest. If you have other suggestions, please feel free to include the URL in comments.

Penzu – Free Online Diary and Personal Journal
http://penzu.com/content/why

Journaling for Stress Management
http://stress.about.com/od/journaling/Journaling_for_Stress_Management.htm

The Power of Therapeutic Writing
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2002/jul/28/shopping

The Journal Site
http://www.journaltherapy.com/links/index.html#jp

How to Keep a Prayer Journal
http://www.ehow.com/how_2244020_keep-prayer-journalkeep-prayer-journal.html

Journaling as a Spiritual Discipline: 8 Reasons to Journal
http://www.aholyexperience.com/2009/07/journaling-as-spiritual-discipline-why/

Spiritual Journaling: Recording Your Journey Toward God
(Spiritual Formation Study Guides) by Richard Peace
http://amzn.com/1576831094

Journaling as a Spiritual Practice:
Encountering God Through Attentive Writing by Helen Cepero
http://amzn.com/0830835199

Ann Voskamp’s Blog Postings about Journaling
http://www.aholyexperience.com/category/journaling/

Expressive Writing Therapy in Cancer Recovery
http://www.watsonclinic.com/uploads/expressive_writing_therapy.pdf

How to make a Christmas Shopping List for the Idea-Impaired

2010-11-18T19:30:00.001-07:00

This is public knowledge: my husband hates shopping. For groceries. For himself. But especially for special events. This became a small to medium problem in our marriage when he occasionally overlooked a birthday here, an anniversary there and sometimes even Christmas until the last minute.

In frustration at my expressions of disappointment, we talked about dropping gift-giving completely, but we still had our child in the home and that didn't fly. I suggested just making "gift certificates" for each other, like "This certificate entitles the bearer to one hour-long backrub at a time of her choice." But he said he'd rather poke his eye out than come up with creative writing ideas for gift certificates.

Finally, he came up with a simple, yet inspired solution: "Please, just make me a list of things you'd like and where I can find them and I'll shop from that." That worked quite nicely. I never received anything I didn't want and his shopping was anxiety-free (though he did have to figure out how to get them wrapped). He's a big boy. He handled that just fine.

This year, with university tuition bills for our only child, we aren't spending big bucks on large items, so my list will include smaller things like books and practical gifts. However, some of these are hard to describe, so today I pulled out my phone and started taking pictures.

Brilliant. An illustrated Christmas list. Sort of a smaller scale personalized Sears Catalogue "Christmas Wish Book."

Some would say, "Aw, but that takes away the thoughtfulness of gift-giving." Not exactly. I finally realized his only thought is to get me something I really want. What could be more thoughtful than actually TELLING him what what I'd like, instead of expecting him to read my mind?!

Ladies, haven't we grown up out of the idea that "I'm a princess and my man should cater to my every whim without me saying a thing" view of romance? Talk about dreaming the impossible dream. If you're still living in that Disney Princess fantasy, get used to disappointment. Make him a list and make his day.

Now that's an idea worth sharing.

Times, They are a Changin'

2010-11-13T10:30:00.000-07:00

I wanted to sleep longer but my bed and my body were in disagreement, so here I am at Starbucks holding a warm bowl of oatmeal and waiting for my latte.

It feels like I am on the cusp of a big Something. A change. A move. An announcement. An Opportunity. Or perhaps it’s just that five hours of uninterrupted sleep has resurrected Fragile Hope. Or should my skeptic win, it’s my fantastical imagination projecting the idea that I won’t have to go home and do the mundane next thing of sorting mail, paying bills and filing the pile that is too easy to neglect in the corner of the office.

I neither appreciate people who whine (including myself), nor those who broadcast their accomplishments (including myself, sometimes). So I will mull out loud (with the two of you who have made it this far) about why we (okay, I) like to correct others for their sub-standard behavior.

Like the woman driving like a bat out of…you know, on a Saturday morning, tail gating, then cutting me off on her way to the grocery store. I initially thought, what in the world could be so important, but now as I muse about the wider possibilities, I think it could be if she doesn’t get the coffee cream home before her alcoholic husband gets up (or maybe even if she does…) there will be …you know… to pay.

Some of us spend our lives “should”ing all over each other.

She should
- drive slower
- wear less make-up
- call more often
- stop gossiping
He should
- not butt in line
- walk the dog
- make dinner once in a while
They should
- make laws I agree with
- stay in their own country
- lower my taxes
I should
- get a manicure
- lose a few pounds
- be nicer

What did you add to the list? I could go on “should”ing for hours, not considering what might be impacting his/her/their ability to measure up to my standards. Trouble is, and I think most of us know this – deep down – I can only change myself. But it’s easier to deflect and point to the failings of others. So for today, my Big Change will be to do small things better. After all, if you take care of the centimeters, the kilometers will take care of themselves.

I will begin to
- set boundaries
- attend to my own life and let God deal with others if He thinks they need it.
- give only what I can afford
- take time for Sabbath rest: pursuing my deepest Joy
- be grateful
- affirm others
- process my mail

Thanks for sharing my coffee break with me. You’re a better friend than I realized.

Time is Money

2010-11-02T00:55:00.001-06:00

I don't know where the time goes. I barely blog twice a month. I've virtually quit tweeting on Twitter. I post the occasional poem and update my Facebook status at least once a day. I hike, weather permitting. Attend ladies' Tuesday morning book study. Visit a widow in the care centre far less often than I'd like. Occasionally hang out with a friend and her two young, delightful children. Coffee sometimes with friends. Sleep too little.

I don't know where the time goes. While I read several blog posts each day, it takes months to finish a book. Housework pines for my attention. Laundry gets done by someone else. I don't watch TV. Rarely listen to music. I don't waste time. I spend it, but I don't know how. It just seems to be gone.

Please don't go all left-brain on me and ask me to write down how much time I spend doing what. I forget routines as quickly as they are introduced. I follow the flitting butterfly of inspiration and try to corral words into some semblance of order without being prosaic or using the word "dance."

Where does time go? It passes while I think. "I think. Therefore I am?" Or is it rather "I am, therefore I think?"

Just wanted to send this question out. Not looking for advice, just testimony.

Where do you spend?

Small Blessings: Little is Much

2010-10-03T03:19:00.004-06:00

Autumn is heaven's gilded frame on faded summer;
a vault door opening to winter treasure,
compensation for all that is not, was not, cannot be.

"Have you seen my lens?" I try to keep my voice calm. My husband and I are sightseeing in the mountains and have stopped at a picture perfect viewpoint. I search frantically around the passenger seat. The expensive zoom lens is missing.

I'm not blaming him, just clarifying whether he might have moved it. He's very good at that. "Put it in a safer place," he would say, and then deliver it safe back to my hand.

But not this time.

He is tired. He normally thinks before he speaks. This question was not a stellar moment: "Do you know where it could be?" he asked.

"If I knew where it was, I wouldn't be asking if you had seen it." I try not to grit my teeth, knowing it is not his fault. It is mine, entirely.

I flash back three stops ago. That's when I took the lens out of the camera bag. I put it in the map pocket. Then we stopped at Tim's and got coffee. I had no reason to take it inside. Oh, dear Lord, I can't have left it at Tim Horton's. I was impatient with the cashier and I don't want to have to go ask her if...

"Did you put it back in the bag?" My husband interrupts my guilt train. He really does want to be helpful, but can't possibly read my mind.

Okay, I remember our stop at the first scenic viewpoint where I slid the zoom lens into the pocket of my hiking pants and walked down to the water's edge. I photographed left, I walked right, I climbed up on the big rock. The rock was tall and I had to hoist my leg up very high.

Oh! Could the lens have slipped out of my pocket? I would never have heard it land in the soft, thick marsh grass. I shudder, it was also right beside the water. What if it rolled in the lake?

"Do you want to go back and look?" Brent asked.

Oh, dear. backtrack 25 killometres on that dusty, washboard gravel road to look for something that may or may not be there? Even if I found it, would it be ruined?

"We're not buying another one," he said firmly.

I imagine life without a zoom lens. With it, I captured a grizzly bear and a framable portrait of a moose. I can't live without a zoom.

"Let's go back."

On the way, I'm considering the foxhole prayer: "Lord, if you can get me out of this situation, I will straighten up and fly right. Even if I totally left the lens somewhere, I know you can miraculously make it appear in the vehicle when I look again."

I blush. Asking God to suspend the laws of nature so that I can avoid the consequences of my own actions. Would I be able to remember where we had stopped? Would it be a wasted trip?

"Wait and see."

Spray Lake

We both recognize the place. I reach through the thick marsh grass at the base of the rock. My hand plunges into water. Oh no. I pull the grass aside but can see nothing submerged. I move my hand out of the water and reach down again.

And there it is, my 18-300mm zoom lens, right at the base of the tall rock. Dry and intact. Hidden like a mallard's egg in a nest. Only a hands breadth away from the open water. I grasp it quickly, wrap it in my shirt and squish squash my way back through the marshy water to Brent. I hug him and cry out of sheer relief.

God had suspended the laws of nature. He made sure my failing memory worked so I could recall where to look. And both Brent and I stayed calm.

But from now on, I'm going to wear the camera bag, avoid tall rocks and be more patient at Tim Horton's.

A shadow of my former self in Smuts Creek @ Mt. Engadine Lodge

Rest and Restlessness

2010-09-20T01:50:00.003-06:00

Today we met with other parents (of students who attend the same university as our son) in order to get acquainted and pray for the students. One mother described the lifestyle of her student (a creative type) and I was startled as I realized she could have been describing my current lifestyle.

Could it be that I, more than double the age of this student, am still showing the same characteristics? I label them (non-objectively): Busyness. Lack of focus. Absence of discipline. Restlessness. Sleeplessness. Hunger for learning. A searching, searching, searching, for connection with other souls.

I have gained much from this search. I have lost much, too.

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

There is only one place where I feel completely at rest. It is when I am in the mountains. I have fallen in love with the mountains of the front range. Certainly I am dazzled by the peaks of Yoho, Jasper and Banff National Parks, but my favorites are closer to home: Kananaskis Country, Peter Lougheed Provincial Park and Spray Lakes Provincial Park.

Saturday we took a jaunt, a long circle drive along Highwood Trail to Highway 40 and back via Highway 1. The clouds were low, shrouding the highest peaks, the rest of the sky was overcast. Snow was on the grass and branches but the road was clear.

I am amazed by watching the mountains change as we drive around and through. What looks like a spire or needle of rock becomes a broad face as we come alongside. What is a stair-step silhouette from a distance opens into myriad layers of boulders and ledges. Depending on the set of the light and the time of day, the personality of the mountain can change from comfortable friend to threatening stranger. Of course, the mountains are not changing, my perspective is.

My husband commented, "You seem so refreshed by the mountains."
He is right.

The mountains ask nothing of me and exist without me. There is no work for me to do there. I walk in their shadow, photograph their splendor, hike their trails, watch for their wildlife. I listen for the wind whispering their secrets to the trees, the trickle to roar of glacial melt and spring runoff. I inhale the scent of pine, touch moss, marvel at the gold of trembling aspen in the fall. Every visit is new. Every vista a blessing.

They ask nothing of me but they share their bounty with me. They are doing what they were created to do. In changing weather and revolving light, they stand firm and remain rooted. Pointing up, lifting me to heaven. Changing my vision, providing perspective.

"I will give you rest."

Yes, Lord, it is in the midst of your created beauty that I find my rest in you.

I lift up my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth. Psalm 121:1-2

Psalm 121 goes on to say that he never slumbers, he keeps us from all harm, watches over our life and over our coming and going now and forever. So even if my lifestyle has me sleepless and searching, he will always be found, he is always nearby whether I am in the mountains or in my bed and he will do for our students what he has also promised us:

I will give you rest.

So what is my response to be?

I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.

I'm going to go do that now. Goodnight.

Photos:
1. Wild horse on Stony Reserve at the start of Highwood Trail
2. Looking north from Hwy. 40 toward Mt. Lorette
3. Looking east not far past Highwood Pass

Christian "Culture"

2010-08-17T11:20:00.000-06:00

One of my Facebook friends posted a thought-provoking verse this morning:

"He who mocks the poor reproaches his Maker; He who is glad at calamity will not go unpunished." Proverbs 17:5

This verse could extend to how we are to treat those who are not only financially poor but to those who have poor judgement as well. It led my thoughts to websites like "People of Wal-Mart" and shows like "America's Funniest Home Videos" or some of the asian pseudo-reality game shows where someone is inevitably knocked into a slough of sludge by an oversized rotating boom.

So many times we allow ourselves to be pulled into the trap of laughing at others, even mocking. Those who claim to follow Christ are not immune and sometimes drift into it unaware.

My son still remembers the mocking glances he got when we visited a church near Nashville. His clothing choices were quite different than the preppy golf shirts and khakis of his peers in this place 2,600 kms removed from our home culture - and they let him know it. As we sat through the rest of the service, those on the platform preached condemnation on those who were "other."

A gospel based on cultural preferences is no gospel at all.

Mocking and judging others does not sit well with God. The theme of mocking is addressed primarily in the Wisdom books, especially Job, Psalms and Proverbs. How often have we in Christian circles ignored these directives and joined in with our culture to laugh and mock others who are different or less fortunate than ourselves? What is your attitude when you turn on the late night talk shows (Leno, Letterman, Conan), comedy shows like SNL and Canada's own Air Farce, Rick Mercer and finally most sitcoms and animated shows like the Simpsons and Family Guy? Have we forgotten?

"(The Lord) mocks proud mockers but gives grace to the humble." Proverbs 3:34

I understand the concept of pointing out irony or contradictions using humour, but I hardly see its value as most of the mocking is unkind and often undeserved.

The psalmist was pretty clear in the first two opening lines of the book of Psalms:

"Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers. But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night." Psalm 1:1-2

The apostle Paul leaves us with a clear measurement of where our thoughts should lie. Next time you're tempted to frown at someone's clothing or laugh at someone's appearance or strange actions, consider this:

"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you." Philippians 4:8-9

Mock and you will be mocked. Extend grace and you'll receive grace and peace in return.

Please Shine Down on Me

2010-08-15T21:08:00.001-06:00

I am so in love with my mountains. Yes. Mine. Perhaps everyone can see them, but no one sees them like I do. Silent witnesses to my life, they are ever the same, ever changing, black silhouette against roaring orange sunset or cloud shrouded in thunderous rainstorms or brightening and glowing like a virgin bride rising under the glow of her adoring sun groom. My mountains. Want to come share the view?

The euphoria of having a full day of sun - and being out in it - must be getting to me. I am so grateful for rain that waters the earth and wind that cools my brow and clouds that shield me from constant heat. But I am so grateful they have finally gone away today and have let me soak in the warmth, totally unobstructed, finally, glorious, beautiful SUN.