My Family's Stress-Free Christmas

It is December 26. I have just had a most wonderful Christmas with my two sons and daughter-in-law. A few years ago we decided to forgo the whole present thing, and just get together to enjoy each other's company. It is amazing how stress-free our Christmas has become without the hassle of the gift-giving frenzy enforced by our commercial world.

This year we decided to modify the traditional menu. We waived, or should I say waved goodbye to the turkey, which usually ends up leaving one tired and bloated. My second son, who loves to cook, turned a rump roast into veritable feast. Number one, added his amazing potatoes, and I the vegetables and dessert. We feasted well. We played games and laughed until the tears rolled down our cheeks. Add a couple of good movies into the mix, and you come up with...a perfect Christmas, at least for us.

This morning I saw my eldest and his wife off on the train, back to their student life in Toronto. My youngest was hanging out with his friends here in town. I tidied up a bit, strolled through town, and went to visit a friend who had recently had hip surgery.

I am relaxed, happy, ready to get back to work...and thankful for a blessed Christmas with those I love.

Be Still and Know

BE...

BE
Blameless
Exonerated

BE STILL...

STILL
Silent
Timeless
Innocent
Loosening
Liberating

BE STILL AND KNOW...

KNOW
Kinship
Noted
Owned
Welcomed

BE STILL AND KNOW THAT...

THAT
Touching
Holding
Accepting
Tasting

BE STILL AND KNOW THAT I AM...

I AM
Incomparable
Assured
Majestic

BE STILL AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD...

GOD
Glorious
Omnipotent
Defining

Getting Back in Focus

I borrowed a poem from another blog to post today.
I haven't been posting lately, because I've been a bit bogged down.
All good things, and important,...but throwing me off course a bit nonetheless.

When God has given us some tasks to do,
But life comes along demanding time too,
It sometimes seems hard to keep our goals straight
The urgent takes over. We miss out on the great.

Lord, keep us always attuned to your will
Teach us to manage our time well until
When we finish our day we'll know we have run
The race as you've called it, and your plan's been done!

H Harrison

Here is the poem posted by M. Hernandez at www.thoughtsselected.blogspot.com
that helped me today to come back into focus on what is important.

Don't Quit
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all uphill,
When funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about,
When he might have won if he'd stuck it out.
Don't give up, though the pace seems slow;
You may succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man;
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor's cup,
And he learned too late, when the night slipped down,
How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are;
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit;
It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit.

---Author Unknown

"I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."---The Bible

On Sleeping In

Isn’t it amazing how when you give yourself permission to sleep in, lo and behold, you wake up early, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?

Lately I have been feeling exhausted; too much on my plate, some of which has been causing me to feel overwhelmed. Last night I decided that what I really needed was some good old ‘down time’ and extra sleep. Did that happen? No! It seems that when we need to rest, the problems that make us tired tend to wake us early.

So, I got up. I did have a lovely quiet time sitting in my favorite chair reading and meditating. That in itself brings rest to the soul. The material that I read spoke well to my anxiety; so, although I did not sleep extra hours, I do feel more at peace.

Welcome, new day! I am ready for what you have to offer.

AUTUMN YEARS

Fall is here
In all her glory
Beauty reigns
Upon the earth.
Purpose finished,
Life is ending
Yet rebuilds
For future mirth.

I now face
My autumn years
There’s beauty too
In growing old
My purpose here
Still clearly calls me
Not to let
My path grow cold.


Life began
As tiny seed
Spring arrived,
The time to grow.
Summer came
And beauty blossomed,
New life floats
As fall winds blow.


I was planted
In this world
Pruned and tended
By His hand
Nurtured by
Life’s varied moments
To fulfill
The Gardener’s plan.


Soon the seeds
Will all be covered,
As snow blankets
Earth’s domain.
I in turn
Must seek the guidance
Turn life’s autumn
Into gain.

A Personal Look at Romans 8:38-39

I am a conqueror
because of and through
the power of Jesus Christ,
who loves me.
Nothing at all can separate me from his love!

So when I feel attacked
unloved
unappreciated,
I need to rebuke that thought.

Death won’t separate me from his love,
but neither will life
with all its stresses,
its victories, its defeats.
Nothing in life will change God’s love for me.

Angels won’t separate me.
They wouldn’t want to!
They are here to protect me,
to keep me connected
to God.

But demons,
that’s another matter!
They try their best to persuade me
that God doesn’t love me,
that I don’t matter to him.
They use every trick in the book
to make my life look bleak,
to tweak my anger,
to riddle me with guilt,
to make me cry foul and seek revenge,
to harden my heart in unforgiveness,
but
they cannot separate me
from God’s love.

His love,
shown to me by Jesus,
the way he cared for the people around him;
his healing power,
his attention to provision for their needs,
his loving discussions with his followers,
his stilling of their fears,
his confrontations,
his exhortations,
his prayers for those he loved,
his implicit trust in sending them out on their own,
his extension of the Holy Spirit
to us who believe.

This love is
available to me.
Always!

Nothing can separate me from his love.

Life's Autumn

As I face the approach of Autumn, I welcome what God will show me in this new season. No doubt I will see an abundance of His creative beauty. But just as in nature Fall is a time of letting go, I too must experience the release of certain habits and patterns of living. Decomposing leaves build new life into the soil. Even so I revitalize the fabric of my life by letting go of the past. There may be dead issues, thoughts, and feelings to clear away. Yet after a time of rest and cleansing comes the vibrant hope of restoration and new life.

I’m ready for this autumn experience. Teach me, Lord, to experience with joy the seasons of my growth.

Elusive Ambiguity

It cascades
Drifting through unconscious state
Throbbing in the mind
Tenuously gripping
The vestige of reality
Raging
Caressing
Fluid
Erratic
Defiant in denunciation
Murmuring soft melody
Intimate
Aloof
Harsh
Placid
The essence of necessity
Unencumbered predator

What nature’s phantom this?

A veritable duplicity

Late Summer Kaleidoscope

Sitting on my deck in an attempt to shake off my morning haze and clear the sleepy cobwebs from my brain, I was sipping my coffee and enjoying the comforting warmth of the sun, when the peaceful silence was pierced by a raucous call. With the effect of a second alarm ringing through my drifting thoughts, I was suddenly attentive. A blue jay?

There he sat, jaunty head cocked, calling sleepy ones to rise. Brilliant blue assailed my eyes as he rose effortlessly to greet the sun. Another movement drew me, and there where he had flown, lingered a crimson cardinal, offering up his sweet “twit…twit” like a soft caress upon the breeze. It was a sound I had not identified as his before, I being more familiar with the bolder descending call for which he is well known. I watched in wonder as he in turn lifted off to circle round the yard a scarlet spot of joyous freedom.

In rapt wonder, I lamented their departure, but no; they both circled back to the fence behind my yellow daisies, just beginning their fall display. Another jay dropped by to join them and as a trio they danced from fence to flower to cedar and back again, it seemed in gleeful play. One of the jays landed on my hanging white petunia, dangling for a moment before discovering the presence of some tasty morsel, and seating himself within the planter enjoyed a prolonged feast.

Like sapphires and rubies displayed upon an azure spread, in the midst of the glint of gold and pearl and emerald, my humble deck became transformed into an exotic café for those brief moments, a site adorned with nature’s jewels in the sun, a veritable kaleidoscope of colour.

A Storm to Remember

The clouds loomed dark upon the horizon as we arrived at the pier on the day of the Sand Castle competition. “A quick look,” we thought. “We’ll hurry.”

There is something about a sand beach and turbulent waves, sailboats reaching out to touch a threatening sky, and ever changing light and haze, with flashes of dry lightning for effect. What fodder for the amateur photographer. We paused, caught the waning light, focusing the lens again and again.

“OK, let’s go and see the sculptures. We should have time. And we do have our umbrellas.”

Pitiful excuse for protection they proved to be against the Great Lakes storm. I’d heard of a blinding rainstorm; now I’ve lived and breathed it. The flash and crash of bellowing skies, the unexpected muscle of the wind, and the mountain of rain that assailed us, drove us along the beach, scrambling for safety. Umbrellas turned back to front whirled us around, like a dancing dervish. Dinosaurs and mighty beasts, walled fortresses and the rising dead vanished beneath the onslaught, mere blobs upon the beach. Not that we cared. “Just get us to the safety of the car! Hold on! Don’t get blown off the pier!” Pelted by drops of rain as large as the pebbles on the shore, we zigzagged through the ambush and collapsed in laughter in the car.

“Can you believe it?”

“I thought I was going off the edge!”

“Useless umbrellas!”

“I’m soaked to the skin!”

Our friend who’d stayed behind smirked smugly as we extolled the uproarious event and lamented the demise of our infamous umbrellas. A shake of our hair was enough to invite him into the experience!

There are choices to be made at times and this was a worthy one… one for the memories!

God's Child

‘I’ll drive you away,’ the little one said
As he tightened his fist and tossed his small head.
‘I’ll crawl and make noise so I can’t feel your love.
I don’t want to hear of this God up above!

Well, sometimes I do. I’m almost drawn in
To your talk about Jesus and freedom from sin;
But I have to resist. I don’t want to care,
So I yell, “Blah! Blah! Blah!” when you bow in prayer.

He loves me. He’s calling. I feel so afraid
Of the change it would cause in this life that I’ve made.
It may not be great, but it’s all that I know.
This God that you talk of…don’t tell me, just show.

I sense you might love me. I know that you care.

You catch my wrongdoing; insist I play fair.
I just might come back here to cause you more pain
‘cause maybe you’ll show me your Jesus again!’


Gal 6:9 reminds us:
Let us not become weary in doing good,
for at the proper time we will reap a harvest
if we do not give up.

We need to keep on working with children like this, trusting that God’s spirit will overcome the Evil One in the battle for their souls. Our task is to keep tilling the soil, planting the seed, and loving these little ones into Jesus’ waiting arms.

Aug 23, 2008
After my week at VBS

Negotiating the Dark Path

Sometimes into the darkest hour there comes a beam of light.

Right now our church is reeling from the news that our pastor’s son, just graduated from high school, an athlete and all round great kid, has been diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia. (A.L.L.) It is a time when one realizes how much the church is a family. When one member is struggling, we all hurt.

Lately some friends and I have been studying God’s promises, focusing on guidance. Today’s verse was Isaiah 42:16.
“I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will lead them.”

Well, Lord, we sure are in unfamiliar territory here…territory we do not like, with a lot of dark and potentially nasty corners.

The verse goes on:
“I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do. I will not forsake them.”

I think of Gwen at our church whose husband Gerry is blind. Week after week you see her gently leading him, clearing obstacles, guiding him around things that could cause him to stumble. And if she is not right there, Gerry waits. He doesn’t move through the crowd on his own. He recognizes the situations where he needs more loving guidance than his cane affords.

We too can move through life on our own for much of the time, with our knowledge of God’s love and provision. But there are times, like now, when we have to wait, wait for God’s loving arm to guide us, totally trusting in His wisdom and divine plan. We are blind and must learn to realize how much we need to lean on Him as we negotiate this unknown terrain.

God, I pray that you will be with Ben and bring restoration to his body and peace to his soul. Be with his parents and brother and sisters. Help them to be able to place their hands in yours and to let you guide them through this dark path of cancer.

A Challenge from Quebec

After being in Quebec for the past week, I am still trying to put my finger on how this trip has affected me. Although I may not yet be able to express it, there definitely has been an impact.

I was truly challenged by the passion and zeal, which the French Canadian Christians exude concerning their faith. They seem to recognize and cherish the magnitude and wonder of the gift of salvation. As a second, third, fourth, or whatever, generation Christian, I feel I have become rather blasé about the whole thing. I don’t have that sense of excitement nor an urgency to share my faith with others like I did when it was new and fresh to me.

Let me draw a parallel to a familiar summer scene. When my friends come to enjoy a fire in my back yard, we are content to gather around, chatting amongst ourselves, taking pleasure in the ever-changing flicker of the flames. As the blaze dies down, rather than searching out new firewood, we delight in the glowing embers, and draw in closer, roasting marshmallows, drinking in the moment of peace. We enjoy it immensely, in our cozy little group.

As a Christian, I have the light of Jesus; the warmth of knowing God loves me. Do I want to share this with others? I say I do. I think I do. But all too often I am content to pull up close, enjoying the fire with my few friends and not even thinking of those who are beyond the circle of light.

By journeying to a different culture, Jesus has offered me a challenge. How will I live out my faith? Will I be content to continue on my selfish path of enjoying the benefits of being a Christian with those of like mind? Or will I make an effort to figure out how to share the benefits of life with Christ with those outside the inner circle of my comfort zone?

On Becoming A Sleuth

I have been chasing a trail through cyber space these days. Realizing that in order to write a certain article, I also needed to become a private investigator has been a rather invigorating experience. Bring on the Sherlock Holmes hat and the magnifying glass!

Well, OK, we live in the 21st century, so bring on the Google search. Much less cumbersome … or is it?

I can’t tell you how many hours I have spent trying to track down a certain surgeon, who performed a certain surgery back in 1958! Bit by bit I have added to my information about him, and come to understand to a certain degree what the surgery entailed. But, the question remained. Was he still alive and where was he?

Obituaries Canada didn’t show him as being dead. In fact he had spoken at other well-known doctors’ funerals within the last couple of years. Encouraged, I continued my quest.

Two days ago, I found him! Entering a site I had been to before, but from a different angle, I found all the contact information I needed.
I could hardly believe it. Would he still be there?

A letter explaining my mission was carefully drafted and sent winging its way across … whatever it wings across. (I definitely do not understand how this network of the world works, but I sure appreciate it. It beats pounding the pavement with a magnifying glass.)

Yesterday, a response; I have made contact! I am an investigative journalist!

Disconnected

He sits with grizzled look
Talking to himself
And sipping coffee.

The weathered tawny hat
His signature piece
Adds a somewhat jaunty look
Above the sparkling eyes
Adorned with low-slung spectacles

I see him often
Wandering through town
Or resting on a city bench
Pondering the world around him
And I wonder
What does he think as we pass by?
What memories flit through his mind
Of time elapsed?
What secret pains
Have etched those creases
On his swarthy face?

He could have been a pirate
Swabbing the deck
Scrambling as look-out
To the crow’s nest
“Ship ahoy!”

Or then again
Perhaps a drudge
Harvesting tobacco
Beneath the blazing sun
Feeding the habit that haunts him still

A gentle nod of head
A fleeting smile
Acknowledgement of some faint whisper of contact
As I walk by
Too shy to sit awhile
And hear his tales
Of former days

What have I missed?
I’ll never know
‘Til gathering my courage
And my desire to delve
One day I care enough to pause
Connect
And enter in

Peaches

My breakfast bowl sits empty on the counter
Canadian summer
Fresh fruit in abundance
Peaches

Ah the memories
Driving to Shakespeare
To the peach place
‘Fox’s’ I think
With Dad
Speeding along in our ’53 Studebaker
His dream of a sports car
Overwhelming scent as we enter the store
And then in the car as we travel home
Laughing around the kitchen table
Juice dripping off my chin
And more peaches lining the kitchen counter
Ripening just so
For the canning process
Steam filling the room
And that scent
The aroma of preparation
For the coming months of cold

But for now
Again this morning
Peaches
Peaches served with memories

Liam's Sound

Liam’s Sound

Today a couple of friends and I were out for coffee, and talking about the qualities of life we want to be developing, things like faith and goodness, self-control (especially when it comes to chocolate!), perseverance (sticking to our goals), kindness and of course love. God actually wants us to be working to develop these qualities, but it sometimes seems so hard!

I thought of my special little two-year old friend, Liam. On Sunday, I went up to him at church, as his dad was holding him and said "Hi." He didn't answer, but I could see that he was thinking and his mouth was moving.

"Are you practising your special sound?" asked his Dad.

I leaned in close to listen and sure enough he was clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, creating a tiny little "pop!" He was obviously dedicated to working on it until he had it down pat. A few weeks ago when I talked to him, he was practising his wink.

As I thought about my quest for the development of spiritual qualities in my life, I realized that Liam had a lot to teach me. "Unless we become as little children..." Little children rehearse new skills until they become a part of them. We may know the qualities that we want to cultivate, but until we focus and really practise, they will probably continue to elude us.

Invasion of the Ants

It is a very humid day in Stratford, Ontario with the temperature hovering around 30 C. Arriving home from a very warm walk, I knew I needed to close up all the blinds, in a perhaps futile attempt to keep my 135 year-old un-air-conditioned home slightly cooler than the outside air.

Walking into my living room, I noticed the window had a lot of black things on the sill. "Ah, leaves falling off the plants?" I wondered. "Oh no! They're moving!"

Indeed it seems that a swarm of flying ants (what do you call a flock of ants, anyway?) had decided that my front window would make an ideal new home. They had sent a few forerunners out last week, and I had zapped them with vinegar, and stunned them to the point where I could successfully scoop them up and flush them away. But this? This was a major invasion!

Vinegar would not do the trick this time. I had visions of Lenningen, with the ants rushing in for the kill.

It is amazing how the adrenalin kicks in at such a moment. No Raid to be found in the house, I ran with heart pounding to the folk next door. After what seemed like forever (maybe five minutes) and all the while envisioning the gradual takeover of my domicile, I raced back home with two cans in hand.

Now, I am not a wimp, and I don’t mind creepy-crawlies, but it was with no small amount of fear that I approached the task. Timorously entering the living room I was met by a giant-sized invader crossing the floor.

“Oh, no! They’ve already advanced from the windowsill.”

One stomp knocked him out for the eight-count, and I was off to face the army. Raid came first. The stricken soldiers floundered and circled round. I could just imagine their battle cries!

All the cracks, the ants themselves, over and over I attacked. They were a determined bunch, though, hanging on bravely to the thread of life.

And then I saw them outside!

Off I raced, stomping on a few floor-advancers as I went. Through the bushes, then spraying the screen, and all the cracks. The mind plays tricks and every tickle of a branch became a munching mandible. Ants were trying to escape, climbing the screen, only to be driven down in rain of Raid.

Back on the inside, the wounded were regrouping.

“Aha! I’ve got you!” My battle cry rang out.

But where were all these live ones coming from? They kept plopping onto the drenched windowsill. Looking up, another seething mass! Through the blinds I could see their forces gathered there. Up with the blinds. Attack again. On the window, on the walls, holding my breath, again and again I struck. The second can came into play as I felt perhaps it might kill off the survivors.

Barely able to breathe with all the mixed fumes, I have retreated to my computer.

Here I sit, weary from the fight, my heart beating once again at a more normal pace.

But what will I find when I arise from this chair?