Not surprisingly, inspiration and desire to write for www.whateverhesays.blogspot.com came this Easter weekend, and I wrote some of what was in my heart and mind. Belinda was delighted to receive something from me again, so here it is, posted today, the day after I wrote it:
Resurrection, Revisitation and the Big Picture
A post by Meg
We are in Eastertide, living freshly with the remembrance of our status as an Easter people, people redeemed by the precious blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, people who live in His resurrection power if we have surrendered our lives to Him, accepted His redemption, and His lordship of our lives.
As we revisit and re-member these timeless truths in extra special ways for a few days each year, we are reminded once again of who we truly are. My daily readings at this time are in Deuteronomy, full of God's reminders to His people of all that He had done for them, and of the power and promise of living in that remembrance, and the consequences of not doing so. It seems that all of Scripture does that...calling us to be our true selves, to live in the light of our destiny, to remember that we are part of God's Big Picture, and that the small details of our everyday lives are also part of the big picture of our whole lives.
God gives us other ways to re-member Him and ourselves and our lives, through revisitation, and of course resurrection of much that has hurt us or died in our lives and our hopes and dreams. Always being true to His promise to make things new, we find Him busy restoring, renewing and refreshing us and others, even as we, in our human tendency to doubt His faithfulness, expect things to not go well or to not work out. Of course there are many situations that cannot be changed, but somehow God can restore what He was trying to do with us in them, and bring us to a fresh realization of His presence with us at that time and His ongoing commitment to work with us, our choices, and the decisions of others.
I have never forgotten the quote by an unknown author: "Our lives are shaped by those who love us, by those who refuse to love us." We can lament the latter truth, and rejoice in the former. It seems a timeless truth, but far above and beyond it is the timeless truth of God's abiding, faithful, intervening love for us, which shapes and moulds us, and leads us forth, through all our trials, into eternity with Him.
This Easter marks the fulfillment of plans we are making to revisit some scenes of hurt for me in my earlier adult life, alongside reconnecting with friends and enjoying a special tour to places unseen. For me it is extra special because the trip is across the ocean and back across several decades in time. As we planned the trip, I felt the Lord nudging me to make it a pilgrimage of revisitation, so that He could show me His resurrecting power. I have felt His guiding hand in the details, and have grown in joy as I see the results in my spirit.
In this process He has also resurrected the song I wrote about on July 23rd, 2008. It is also what I have chosen to sing as a solo at a special upcoming service. With the choosing and the singing come the remembrance of the occasion of hurt in which God spoke to me through the words of the song, reminding me of His call on my life, His commitment to the fulfillment of His purposes in my life as I would journey onward from that place and time, looking forward and not backward, not worrying about what others would think of me, but rather rejoicing in my place in Him.
I believe this song is for all of us who live and abide in Him. It is a song about the call of Jeremiah. We are called to a prophetic role in relation to this world, and we all feel so unable to fulfill it, so dependent on His strength and power. And that is how it will always be. Let us this Eastertide celebrate these truths in all our lives:
Oh the Word of My Lord (Song for a Young Prophet)
Chorus:
Oh the word of my Lord,
Deep within my being,
Oh the word of my Lord,
You have filled my mind.
Verse 1
Before I formed you in the womb
I knew you through and through
I chose you to be mine
Before you left your mother's side
I called to you my child
To be my sign
Verse 2
I know that you are very young
But I will make you strong
I'll fill you with My word
And you will travel through the land
Fulfilling My command
Which you have heard
Verse 3
And ev'rywhere you are to go
My hand will follow you
You will not be alone
In all the danger that you fear
You'll find Me very near
Your words My own
Verse 4
With all My strength
You will be filled
You will destroy and build
For that is My design
You will create and overthrow
Reap harvests I will sow
Your word is Mine
CCLI Song #740510
© 1978 Kevin Mayhew Ltd
Damian Lundy
April 06, 2010
January 28, 2010
joy in more kindergarten lessons
In my January basement cleaning I discovered a personal lesson to share, through listening to a radio program. It was short and simple and worth sharing. I offered it for www.whateverhesays.blogspot.com, and Belinda put it on the Wednesday slot, about walking with Him. I was honoured. After not writing something for their blog for so long, I hit the spot that suited me for this time! Here it is:
Getting the Stories Straight, Caring About the Details
by Meg
I listen to an interview on CBC radio as I clear the basement room and clean the floor. The producer of Slumdog Millionaire gives the real story about how the child actors from India were treated by their company. It sounds more than fair: wise, careful, insightful, culturally relevant, generous. I am convicted. I remember joining the chorus of critics and mentioning my concerns on a blog post last year the week after I,among millions, was very touched by this movie. Like so many people I assumed that the "information" I read was true...that there was unfair treatment, etc. The producer stated that their well thought out plans for present and future provision for these actors were all made before there was public outcry and inquiry into their welfare,before the movie won lots of oscars and made tons of money.
I thought of how many times I have been wounded by people not getting the story straight about me, to the point that I have learned to stop caring a lot of the time, or just to assume that it will happen that way. I recall our experience in Africa - being slandered and misunderstood, charged with false motivation and self- interest. Then I put it down to culture clash, jealousy, spiritual warfare. But it's often hard for me to remember how easy it is to do, how prone we all are to latching on to an impression, some hearsay, and then running with it. How often do we have the passion to get the whole story? How often in my life as a missionary was I guilty of a "smaller" version of the sins that were visited against us?
I ponder my future plans: to sit with others to hear their untold or mistold stories; to be the safe person who allows the unexpressed to be spoken, the trauma to be revealed, the hurt to be healed.
Jesus says that it is being faithful in little that counts. If we can't do it there, we can't be trusted with the big stuff.
I turn back to my floor clearing, picking up the little bits of stuff that could get in someone's shoe, finding missing pieces for some treasure yet to be discovered in the boxes still needing sorting. I am more than ever thankful for this humble, hidden task, and opportunity to pray, to ponder, to listen to the world talking on the radio.
In these later years of my life I am learning more kindergarten lessons. I expect it will continue til the day I die.
Getting the Stories Straight, Caring About the Details
by Meg
I listen to an interview on CBC radio as I clear the basement room and clean the floor. The producer of Slumdog Millionaire gives the real story about how the child actors from India were treated by their company. It sounds more than fair: wise, careful, insightful, culturally relevant, generous. I am convicted. I remember joining the chorus of critics and mentioning my concerns on a blog post last year the week after I,among millions, was very touched by this movie. Like so many people I assumed that the "information" I read was true...that there was unfair treatment, etc. The producer stated that their well thought out plans for present and future provision for these actors were all made before there was public outcry and inquiry into their welfare,before the movie won lots of oscars and made tons of money.
I thought of how many times I have been wounded by people not getting the story straight about me, to the point that I have learned to stop caring a lot of the time, or just to assume that it will happen that way. I recall our experience in Africa - being slandered and misunderstood, charged with false motivation and self- interest. Then I put it down to culture clash, jealousy, spiritual warfare. But it's often hard for me to remember how easy it is to do, how prone we all are to latching on to an impression, some hearsay, and then running with it. How often do we have the passion to get the whole story? How often in my life as a missionary was I guilty of a "smaller" version of the sins that were visited against us?
I ponder my future plans: to sit with others to hear their untold or mistold stories; to be the safe person who allows the unexpressed to be spoken, the trauma to be revealed, the hurt to be healed.
Jesus says that it is being faithful in little that counts. If we can't do it there, we can't be trusted with the big stuff.
I turn back to my floor clearing, picking up the little bits of stuff that could get in someone's shoe, finding missing pieces for some treasure yet to be discovered in the boxes still needing sorting. I am more than ever thankful for this humble, hidden task, and opportunity to pray, to ponder, to listen to the world talking on the radio.
In these later years of my life I am learning more kindergarten lessons. I expect it will continue til the day I die.
December 24, 2009
joy in outrageous grace
Another reason to write an occasional post for www.whateverhesays.blogspot.com came this Christmas season, so on December 22nd I was posted again....what it says about how I am feeling is self-explanatory. Here it is:
Outrageous Grace
by Meg
I stood in the still cluttered kitchen, holding the sparkler. I said to myself, I am standing here holding and watching this sparkler because it is reminding me to be in the moment, to celebrate God's unexpected gifts of joy in the midst of sadness and dullness. And I am doing this because these sparklers ended up here in my kitchen because of my daughters, my lovely daughters who are far away for Christmas on the other side of the world. I am cleaning my kitchen for the church choir party, and, in the midst of this chosen drudgery, I am celebrating all that life has given me.
I had lit the sparkler thinking it was a joss stick that the girls had put on that shelf, and I thought I would check its scent and see if it would add to the Christmas atmosphere I was creating for the party. Everything was deliberate and planned, necessitated by organizing it by myself, after years of spontaneous Christmas happenings energized by twenty years of family milling around, pulling me into the moment. Now the unexpected sparkler pulled me into a moment of reflection, wonder and celebration again. Outrageous in a way, to my Martha style preparations.
Isn't that just like God?, I thought again to myself. We are caught up in the daily grind, the tasks, big or small, that fill our days. We are also caught up in the troubles of others, and our own. They weigh us down, and the feelings around them add on tons. We look for alleviation, for special grace to pull us into a new space of joy. I had depended on that for many years, I realized a few weeks ago. Now this Christmas I would recognize more by absence than presence of chosen vessels of grace, beautiful creatures from my own womb, for whom I had chosen to make a dream that wouldn't include me. Ah yes, that choice sparkles in my heart again. Yes, that gives me joy, that freely made choice, that freely given gift.
I check my emails, finding out more news about others' trials and joys. More untimely deaths and illnesses. I phone my friend who struggles with depression and share words of hope and encouragement. I pray through my list, mindful that the number of those with cancer has increased. I sit with a neighbour during her chemo treatment, finding appropriate topics of conversation, reflecting on the apparent smallness of my trial compared with hers. We go to a Christmas party with lots of dancing. The best dancer and most beautifully dressed person is another friend who is still not sure of the status of her own body after two surgeries and multiple treatments for cancer. It was only seven months ago that I was praying for her, thinking she was dying. Here she is glittering and wigged, the life of the party, delighting her husband and family and friends.
The choir director phones me to thank me for giving them such a wonderful time. Our 100 year old always-in-the-family piano had thrilled to an excellent touch the night before as our choir brought our joy and skill into renditions sublime and ridiculous of Christmas music. Outrageous gifts of joy in the midst of a town submerged under snow only the week before, the party cancelled first time around. Now, delay had brought more joy, more celebration.
The words of a much loved song came to mind:
There's a lot of pain,
But a lot more healing;
There's a lot of trouble,
But a lot more peace.
There's a lot of hate,
But a lot more loving;
There's a lot of sin,
But a lot more grace.
Oh Outrageous Grace!
Oh Outrageous Grace!
Love unfurled by Heaven's hand
Oh Outrageous Grace!
Oh Outrageous Grace!
Through my Jesus I can stand.
There's a lot of fear,
But a lot more freedom;
There's a lot of darkness,
But a lot more light.
There's a lot of cloud,
But a lot more vision;
There's a lot of perishing,
But a lot more Life!
(Chorus)
There's an enemy
That seeks to kill what it can't control.
It twists and turns
Making mountains out of molehills.
But I will call on the Lord
Who is worthy of praise;
I run to Him and I am saved! ..by..
(Chorus)
Godfrey Birtill
Copyright 2000
Thankyou Music/PRS
Outrageous Grace
by Meg
I stood in the still cluttered kitchen, holding the sparkler. I said to myself, I am standing here holding and watching this sparkler because it is reminding me to be in the moment, to celebrate God's unexpected gifts of joy in the midst of sadness and dullness. And I am doing this because these sparklers ended up here in my kitchen because of my daughters, my lovely daughters who are far away for Christmas on the other side of the world. I am cleaning my kitchen for the church choir party, and, in the midst of this chosen drudgery, I am celebrating all that life has given me.
I had lit the sparkler thinking it was a joss stick that the girls had put on that shelf, and I thought I would check its scent and see if it would add to the Christmas atmosphere I was creating for the party. Everything was deliberate and planned, necessitated by organizing it by myself, after years of spontaneous Christmas happenings energized by twenty years of family milling around, pulling me into the moment. Now the unexpected sparkler pulled me into a moment of reflection, wonder and celebration again. Outrageous in a way, to my Martha style preparations.
Isn't that just like God?, I thought again to myself. We are caught up in the daily grind, the tasks, big or small, that fill our days. We are also caught up in the troubles of others, and our own. They weigh us down, and the feelings around them add on tons. We look for alleviation, for special grace to pull us into a new space of joy. I had depended on that for many years, I realized a few weeks ago. Now this Christmas I would recognize more by absence than presence of chosen vessels of grace, beautiful creatures from my own womb, for whom I had chosen to make a dream that wouldn't include me. Ah yes, that choice sparkles in my heart again. Yes, that gives me joy, that freely made choice, that freely given gift.
I check my emails, finding out more news about others' trials and joys. More untimely deaths and illnesses. I phone my friend who struggles with depression and share words of hope and encouragement. I pray through my list, mindful that the number of those with cancer has increased. I sit with a neighbour during her chemo treatment, finding appropriate topics of conversation, reflecting on the apparent smallness of my trial compared with hers. We go to a Christmas party with lots of dancing. The best dancer and most beautifully dressed person is another friend who is still not sure of the status of her own body after two surgeries and multiple treatments for cancer. It was only seven months ago that I was praying for her, thinking she was dying. Here she is glittering and wigged, the life of the party, delighting her husband and family and friends.
The choir director phones me to thank me for giving them such a wonderful time. Our 100 year old always-in-the-family piano had thrilled to an excellent touch the night before as our choir brought our joy and skill into renditions sublime and ridiculous of Christmas music. Outrageous gifts of joy in the midst of a town submerged under snow only the week before, the party cancelled first time around. Now, delay had brought more joy, more celebration.
The words of a much loved song came to mind:
There's a lot of pain,
But a lot more healing;
There's a lot of trouble,
But a lot more peace.
There's a lot of hate,
But a lot more loving;
There's a lot of sin,
But a lot more grace.
Oh Outrageous Grace!
Oh Outrageous Grace!
Love unfurled by Heaven's hand
Oh Outrageous Grace!
Oh Outrageous Grace!
Through my Jesus I can stand.
There's a lot of fear,
But a lot more freedom;
There's a lot of darkness,
But a lot more light.
There's a lot of cloud,
But a lot more vision;
There's a lot of perishing,
But a lot more Life!
(Chorus)
There's an enemy
That seeks to kill what it can't control.
It twists and turns
Making mountains out of molehills.
But I will call on the Lord
Who is worthy of praise;
I run to Him and I am saved! ..by..
(Chorus)
Godfrey Birtill
Copyright 2000
Thankyou Music/PRS
November 26, 2009
joy in new things to say, a new focus
Hey - I felt inspired to write from time to time again for www.whateverhesays.blogspot.com....so this is what came out...had to be genuine, and didn't want a me focus unless it was really gritty...not too chatty...yet this seems a little heavy...what comes next time may be lighter...I'm not real heavy these days..there's a sort of evening process going on...a settling...but I have an ever deepening focus on my sweet Lord and what He wants to say to me...so that is what I want to share, when I feel right about it...here it is, for now:
Me Too
The words jump off the page. But, hey, I've read this passage countless times. Why now? Why me? Am I all that bad?
With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God's likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? My brother, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water. James 3: 9 - 12
The memory comes that in the past I have always told myself upon reading this that it doesn't apply to me, that I am not one of those people who curses others, one of those bad people. Or at least that I'm not ALL bad.
But today, with my heart open to God in fresh ways, I stop, and listen, unafraid and ready to hear. Somehow I know I can face this in myself, at last, and in the moment of confession, find forgiveness. I trust my heavenly Father enough to know He loves me so much, and He just wants to do more refining. I instinctively feel that He is saying to look beyond the hyperbole that Jesus so frequently used, the exaggeration, and to see that even if my "tree" or "spring" is not all bad because of the bad that I do, that He needs me to see the destructive effect of what I sometimes do, and the potential for it to become much worse.
Yes, He knows I really mean it when I praise Him, when I lead in our worship team and belt out the songs I love. He knows I really do trust Him and seek to honour Him in my life and choices. He takes me seriously, and He knows I take Him that way too. But because He is my father, and He wants to bring me closer, move me further, grow me up even more, He has to touch that spot, and today He's done it and I didn't say ouch.
So I reflect, how do I curse? What have I done that merits that description? Ah, it is my critical spirit, that lurks behind my thoughts and comments. I don't always say things out loud now. But in the past I did. I often had to qualify praise for others, bring them down in some way in the eyes of others. Maybe it was only to close friends. But the bent was still there.
I remember that weird dream a few months ago. I was shown a funny little man, almost like a mischievous leprechaun, with an orange turtleneck shirt and funny brown tights, a jaunty cap, a jutting chin and a sharp nose. "His name is Legalism", the voice in the dream said. This was in the context of all of us in the dream being shown the evil parts of ourselves.
Again, I had been struck with the word. I am not one to think of myself as legalistic. Heaven forbid!!! I'm all out for a generous way of relating to God, while obeying His requirements, but not holding people's toes to the fire about rules and appearances. But again, I was open to see what God was saying. Again I had identified my critical spirit as the culprit.
Okay, so it runs in the family. I come by it honestly. In fact, that was the major thing I found fault with in my mother!!! How typical. My critical spirit was critical of her critical spirit. And I listened to her tongue qualify the faults of others, while to the world she presented that wonderful sweet spirit. Hmm...something hit home again.
Thank you, Lord, for Your gracious lesson again. Thanks for letting me find it in Your Word, and not have it come through the rebuke of friend or foe. Thanks for making me ready to hear and see, and ready to change. Help me, Lord, to leave the judgments of others to You, and just be the one to praise and bless.
Me Too
The words jump off the page. But, hey, I've read this passage countless times. Why now? Why me? Am I all that bad?
With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God's likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? My brother, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water. James 3: 9 - 12
The memory comes that in the past I have always told myself upon reading this that it doesn't apply to me, that I am not one of those people who curses others, one of those bad people. Or at least that I'm not ALL bad.
But today, with my heart open to God in fresh ways, I stop, and listen, unafraid and ready to hear. Somehow I know I can face this in myself, at last, and in the moment of confession, find forgiveness. I trust my heavenly Father enough to know He loves me so much, and He just wants to do more refining. I instinctively feel that He is saying to look beyond the hyperbole that Jesus so frequently used, the exaggeration, and to see that even if my "tree" or "spring" is not all bad because of the bad that I do, that He needs me to see the destructive effect of what I sometimes do, and the potential for it to become much worse.
Yes, He knows I really mean it when I praise Him, when I lead in our worship team and belt out the songs I love. He knows I really do trust Him and seek to honour Him in my life and choices. He takes me seriously, and He knows I take Him that way too. But because He is my father, and He wants to bring me closer, move me further, grow me up even more, He has to touch that spot, and today He's done it and I didn't say ouch.
So I reflect, how do I curse? What have I done that merits that description? Ah, it is my critical spirit, that lurks behind my thoughts and comments. I don't always say things out loud now. But in the past I did. I often had to qualify praise for others, bring them down in some way in the eyes of others. Maybe it was only to close friends. But the bent was still there.
I remember that weird dream a few months ago. I was shown a funny little man, almost like a mischievous leprechaun, with an orange turtleneck shirt and funny brown tights, a jaunty cap, a jutting chin and a sharp nose. "His name is Legalism", the voice in the dream said. This was in the context of all of us in the dream being shown the evil parts of ourselves.
Again, I had been struck with the word. I am not one to think of myself as legalistic. Heaven forbid!!! I'm all out for a generous way of relating to God, while obeying His requirements, but not holding people's toes to the fire about rules and appearances. But again, I was open to see what God was saying. Again I had identified my critical spirit as the culprit.
Okay, so it runs in the family. I come by it honestly. In fact, that was the major thing I found fault with in my mother!!! How typical. My critical spirit was critical of her critical spirit. And I listened to her tongue qualify the faults of others, while to the world she presented that wonderful sweet spirit. Hmm...something hit home again.
Thank you, Lord, for Your gracious lesson again. Thanks for letting me find it in Your Word, and not have it come through the rebuke of friend or foe. Thanks for making me ready to hear and see, and ready to change. Help me, Lord, to leave the judgments of others to You, and just be the one to praise and bless.
October 24, 2009
joy in moving on, in changing pace and letting go
Unexpectedly I have come to the end of this blog writing for now. I will write one when I have a website for my life coaching, but the story I share here for the blog www.whateverhesays.blogspot.com tells how I felt sure it was time to stop and give myself more brain space and time for my studies and future business. It is an education to me even in the way God led me to this decision. But I feel confident about it, and ready to let go. When I have my new blog on my new website, I will post a link to it here. Other than that, as far as I know, I won't be writing anymore on this blog. It has been a good season, and although there have been few comments on this site, those on the other blog have enriched my life and encouraged my writing immensely. Now I need to write more specifically for a life coaching audience, and for my studies. I am somehow tired of being more random about my writing....so it is good to move on, and keep growing into new challenges. Here's the story:
Change of Season - Change of Pace
by Meg
I returned to Ontario to the signs of late fall and approaching winter. I got my snow tires put on and speculated about the days to come. I don't mind the rain, and the cozy feeling inside the house. It is home. All the time we were away in British Columbia I dreamed of home, our house by the river, our quieter pace. The hustle and bustle of so many places out there was a lot to contend with; I noticed how much it affected our friends. There were precious quiet moments - a walk on the beach, or by a rushing stream with salmon leaping and spawning. And most of our friends have quiet hearts in the midst of hectic lives. As I have, or seek to have.
Yet the addictive tendency to busyness is inside of me despite my quiet home and town. My whirling brain often doesn't allow me to settle at night. My plans for the future collide with each other as each day's demands compete. Reality checks come in various ways.
Such was what happened last week when I wasn't able to post on Saturday. I had been praying about whether or not I should continue to write my posts. Not because I don't love writing. And not because they take a lot of time to write. But they occupy brain space during the week: mulling over what would be relevant to say, wondering about what is really appropriate to share from my own life's experiences, past and present. By the time Friday evening came I had been planning to write and knew basically what I wanted to say. I had had internet access all week at moments in the places we were staying. Friday night's venue had been fine for that before. Then I discovered Thursday night that there was a new password for it. I got that Friday morning and got on fine - I fully expected to be able to get on later when we came home tired from our long day of driving and visiting.
For several hours I battled the system gaining an inch and losing it again, slipping in and out of access to the browser but never getting into this site. What was God saying? Eventually I had to let go, let the dreaded thing happen - I would not be able to fulfill my commitment to a Saturday morning post. By the time I got access in a restaurant mid morning B.C. time on Saturday Belinda had already posted on my behalf.
My reflection upon it all reached the conclusion that I really need that bit of brain space for my main focus. That I need to give up this opportunity to have more available energy and thought for the major plans God is calling me to. I realized, sadly, that it is time to say goodbye for now.
I told Belinda that when my life coaching business website is up and running, sometime in the new year, that I will have a blog on that, an opportunity to reflect in a way that has a devotional flavour and yet fits with the world of Christian life coaching, that world of purpose and passion, focus and faith. I asked if I might have a link to that blog on this site and she said that would be great.
A few days after that decision I saw the leaping, spawning, dying salmon. It was an amazing sight, so unexpected on that last day of our busy "holiday". I have pondered upon it as another sign...these salmon live out their life cycle and make some final courageous leaps upstream before they spawn their eggs and then die. It is as if my decision not to write these posts anymore is like those dying salmon...I have been swimming upstream for a long time, I have made some major leaps to bring about a new phase of my life, I have already deposited my spawn, sown my seeds, laid my eggs for this new season of my life. But if I am to go forward into it, I need to let that old part of me die, as the new part is being prepared for birth, in a new form.
So here I am. I am moving into a new season, changing my pace. I am letting go and moving on. It is bittersweet. This has been a precious time in my life. Writing these posts has been healing and strengthening. Getting feedback on how they have touched others has been affirming and deeply encouraging. But that is not enough to keep me in this "space". I have to embrace new things and to do that I have to let go of some former things. Thank you, dear readers, for sharing this space with me - for reading and commenting, for inviting me into your lives through your time and focus. May the Lord continue to bless us all as we trust Him for future days and ways. Bye for now.
Change of Season - Change of Pace
by Meg
I returned to Ontario to the signs of late fall and approaching winter. I got my snow tires put on and speculated about the days to come. I don't mind the rain, and the cozy feeling inside the house. It is home. All the time we were away in British Columbia I dreamed of home, our house by the river, our quieter pace. The hustle and bustle of so many places out there was a lot to contend with; I noticed how much it affected our friends. There were precious quiet moments - a walk on the beach, or by a rushing stream with salmon leaping and spawning. And most of our friends have quiet hearts in the midst of hectic lives. As I have, or seek to have.
Yet the addictive tendency to busyness is inside of me despite my quiet home and town. My whirling brain often doesn't allow me to settle at night. My plans for the future collide with each other as each day's demands compete. Reality checks come in various ways.
Such was what happened last week when I wasn't able to post on Saturday. I had been praying about whether or not I should continue to write my posts. Not because I don't love writing. And not because they take a lot of time to write. But they occupy brain space during the week: mulling over what would be relevant to say, wondering about what is really appropriate to share from my own life's experiences, past and present. By the time Friday evening came I had been planning to write and knew basically what I wanted to say. I had had internet access all week at moments in the places we were staying. Friday night's venue had been fine for that before. Then I discovered Thursday night that there was a new password for it. I got that Friday morning and got on fine - I fully expected to be able to get on later when we came home tired from our long day of driving and visiting.
For several hours I battled the system gaining an inch and losing it again, slipping in and out of access to the browser but never getting into this site. What was God saying? Eventually I had to let go, let the dreaded thing happen - I would not be able to fulfill my commitment to a Saturday morning post. By the time I got access in a restaurant mid morning B.C. time on Saturday Belinda had already posted on my behalf.
My reflection upon it all reached the conclusion that I really need that bit of brain space for my main focus. That I need to give up this opportunity to have more available energy and thought for the major plans God is calling me to. I realized, sadly, that it is time to say goodbye for now.
I told Belinda that when my life coaching business website is up and running, sometime in the new year, that I will have a blog on that, an opportunity to reflect in a way that has a devotional flavour and yet fits with the world of Christian life coaching, that world of purpose and passion, focus and faith. I asked if I might have a link to that blog on this site and she said that would be great.
A few days after that decision I saw the leaping, spawning, dying salmon. It was an amazing sight, so unexpected on that last day of our busy "holiday". I have pondered upon it as another sign...these salmon live out their life cycle and make some final courageous leaps upstream before they spawn their eggs and then die. It is as if my decision not to write these posts anymore is like those dying salmon...I have been swimming upstream for a long time, I have made some major leaps to bring about a new phase of my life, I have already deposited my spawn, sown my seeds, laid my eggs for this new season of my life. But if I am to go forward into it, I need to let that old part of me die, as the new part is being prepared for birth, in a new form.
So here I am. I am moving into a new season, changing my pace. I am letting go and moving on. It is bittersweet. This has been a precious time in my life. Writing these posts has been healing and strengthening. Getting feedback on how they have touched others has been affirming and deeply encouraging. But that is not enough to keep me in this "space". I have to embrace new things and to do that I have to let go of some former things. Thank you, dear readers, for sharing this space with me - for reading and commenting, for inviting me into your lives through your time and focus. May the Lord continue to bless us all as we trust Him for future days and ways. Bye for now.
October 10, 2009
joy in new food for thought and pilgrimage
When this is published I will be having Thanksgiving weekend with relatives on their farm and enjoying one of their own turkeys for the special meal...how appropriate. But I wrote the blog post for www.whateverhesays.blogspot.com a few days before, when we were at a camp we knew long ago. I have to get my secure wireless connections when I can...and I appreciate that learning for my journey too, that planning ahead and preparing for the future, while resting in the day...
Here it is:
Food for Thought and Pilgrimage
I knew this trip would be a pilgrimage...not just a visit with my daughter, old friends and a few relatives, seeing old and new places. I knew there would be lots of opportunities for reflection on life, ministry, calling, past, present and future. And there would be lots of food.. at chain restaurants in the middle of big cities,at Irish pubs with singers, at a bistro with a roaring fire in a rainstorm, in the modest homes of friends on missionary support, or in more elaborate homes with hillside or oceanfront views owned by friends very blessed financially. Each of them living out their Christian lives with many blessings and many trials, each of them with their own reflections on ministry, service, vocation, God's leadings, each of them with their own stories of moving around from one place to another or staying put for many many years.
Take today for instance. We are experiencing gorgeous early fall weather on an island off Vancouver Island, the sun blazing in the window as I write in the home of the camp cooks at a wonderful Christian camp which has flourished for more than fifty years. My husband built their first rowboats in his first summer in Canada in the 50's. The founders of the camp still live here in their 90's, setting up the camp after spending years living in a boat called the GoForth and journeying up and down the B.C. Coast spreading the gospel. They have spent their lives on this coast and in this camp. We had lunch with other camp staff who have been planted here for many many years also, never, as the husband said, having been told by God to go elsewhere. Our hosts, on the other hand, have moved every few years, blessing various ministries with their cooking expertise. Their daughter came out with us to Uganda in her mid teens to help us homeschool our daughters, and had what she called a "pivotal" time with us there.
This morning we meandered our way to the wharf and considered taking a rowboat out on the very breezy water, and thought better of it. Then the sailing director came down to prepare the four Catalinas for the campers who had just arrived. We had a lovely chat with him instead, hearing how God opened the doors for him and his wife to leave their ministry as worship leaders and pastors in a church where they were burning out. We reflected on balance in ministry, self care, and being led of the Spirit into ways of service where we can work with teams and not wear ourselves out doing too much.
I reflect on the motel room excellent wireless connection the Lord provided for me two days ago to take my Life Coaching online exam, which I had been too busy to finish studying for before we left on this trip. I muse about His constant provision and protection over me and all His children, and yet I long to be able to get on with new work and ministry and not keep having so many lessons of trust and patience to learn. I champ at the bit to know how the future will look, how I will combine my coaching with my counselling studies, and my dreams of ministry and creative ventures. It might seem I am still the driven person I have often been.
I go now, however, to read a novel on the porch in the sun, to bless God for His constant faithfulness to me again and again, and to put my trust in His timing and leading for yet another day, another journey, another phase of life. I look forward to Thanksgiving with our only B.C. family on their turkey farm and another look at life through the eyes of others. There are many reality tests on this trip, and all of them call me to reflect, to observe, to share and to trust, to forgive myself and others, and to move ahead in trust. This is my daily bread today, my food for thought and pilgimage.
Here it is:
Food for Thought and Pilgrimage
I knew this trip would be a pilgrimage...not just a visit with my daughter, old friends and a few relatives, seeing old and new places. I knew there would be lots of opportunities for reflection on life, ministry, calling, past, present and future. And there would be lots of food.. at chain restaurants in the middle of big cities,at Irish pubs with singers, at a bistro with a roaring fire in a rainstorm, in the modest homes of friends on missionary support, or in more elaborate homes with hillside or oceanfront views owned by friends very blessed financially. Each of them living out their Christian lives with many blessings and many trials, each of them with their own reflections on ministry, service, vocation, God's leadings, each of them with their own stories of moving around from one place to another or staying put for many many years.
Take today for instance. We are experiencing gorgeous early fall weather on an island off Vancouver Island, the sun blazing in the window as I write in the home of the camp cooks at a wonderful Christian camp which has flourished for more than fifty years. My husband built their first rowboats in his first summer in Canada in the 50's. The founders of the camp still live here in their 90's, setting up the camp after spending years living in a boat called the GoForth and journeying up and down the B.C. Coast spreading the gospel. They have spent their lives on this coast and in this camp. We had lunch with other camp staff who have been planted here for many many years also, never, as the husband said, having been told by God to go elsewhere. Our hosts, on the other hand, have moved every few years, blessing various ministries with their cooking expertise. Their daughter came out with us to Uganda in her mid teens to help us homeschool our daughters, and had what she called a "pivotal" time with us there.
This morning we meandered our way to the wharf and considered taking a rowboat out on the very breezy water, and thought better of it. Then the sailing director came down to prepare the four Catalinas for the campers who had just arrived. We had a lovely chat with him instead, hearing how God opened the doors for him and his wife to leave their ministry as worship leaders and pastors in a church where they were burning out. We reflected on balance in ministry, self care, and being led of the Spirit into ways of service where we can work with teams and not wear ourselves out doing too much.
I reflect on the motel room excellent wireless connection the Lord provided for me two days ago to take my Life Coaching online exam, which I had been too busy to finish studying for before we left on this trip. I muse about His constant provision and protection over me and all His children, and yet I long to be able to get on with new work and ministry and not keep having so many lessons of trust and patience to learn. I champ at the bit to know how the future will look, how I will combine my coaching with my counselling studies, and my dreams of ministry and creative ventures. It might seem I am still the driven person I have often been.
I go now, however, to read a novel on the porch in the sun, to bless God for His constant faithfulness to me again and again, and to put my trust in His timing and leading for yet another day, another journey, another phase of life. I look forward to Thanksgiving with our only B.C. family on their turkey farm and another look at life through the eyes of others. There are many reality tests on this trip, and all of them call me to reflect, to observe, to share and to trust, to forgive myself and others, and to move ahead in trust. This is my daily bread today, my food for thought and pilgimage.
October 03, 2009
joy in points of connection
I am sitting right now in my daughter's room in her apartment style residence in B.C. It is a beautiful fall day...we have just come across on the ferry from the mainland...it's surreal to see my daughter in her new space, her new home, her new life...it's a very good life, with God's leading all the way, His protection and His provision. But it's weird for me all the same...Empty nest syndrome I guess...letting go. I've been so blase about it all...now the reality is hitting me. But it's great to be here, and she is the biggest connection for us out here...long may it last...our connecting across the miles, as with so many friends whom I'm meeting and writing about in my post for www.whateverhesays.blogspot.com today:
Points of Connection
Connecting has been the order of the days on this 27 day trip in B.C.. Before we left we had lined up lots of connections - lunch and dinner arrangements, places to stay, people to see, all to reconnect with the people we knew in days gone by. Now, a week into our trip, I am reflecting upon the underlying themes of this journey, this kind of pilgrimage. God always has so much to teach us as we connect, because it's really all about connecting more deeply with ourselves and with Him, as well as with others.
Points of Connection
Connecting has been the order of the days on this 27 day trip in B.C.. Before we left we had lined up lots of connections - lunch and dinner arrangements, places to stay, people to see, all to reconnect with the people we knew in days gone by. Now, a week into our trip, I am reflecting upon the underlying themes of this journey, this kind of pilgrimage. God always has so much to teach us as we connect, because it's really all about connecting more deeply with ourselves and with Him, as well as with others.
Indeed that is what it's been - the physical ways of connecting and making arrangements have just been metaphors for connecting in other ways. Conversations for me have focused in on the deepest level - how are these friends growing older? What is most important to them now? What visions inform their lives? How do they interact with those that inspire mine? How do they live out their Christian faith in context of various churches and denominations?
A common theme has been, not unexpectedly, that these friends, like we, are often dissatisfied with many versions of Christian fellowship. They, like we, will not settle for "rules" that seem superfluous or even alien to true Christian realities - levels of church politics, status or elitism. Not surprisingly these are continuing versions of what connected us in the first place. And of course the ones who have remained friends, or have become better friends now, are those who share a certain distaste for anything phony, legalistic or pretentious.
Most of all what unites us is a delight in each others' company, a warmth of acceptance and sharing of our humanity. For me this is a special delight, not only with these friends but with my daughter who is the biggest reason for this whole trip.
Each day has brought more depth and points of connection. Today we spent with a friend and her husband, a friend with whom I shared deeply over the years over a decade ago. It was as if the years had rolled away and we were back at her table affirming each other and bringing our gifts of discernment to bear on each others' lives. Only this time it was even better. All that has happened to each of us has only deepened our friendship, left on the shelf for years.
How could I expect anything else from my precious friend, and my precious Father? He is the author of these relationships, the keeper of our lives, the planner of the future. We walk in His grace and favour, and He, on our journeys, makes the points of connection.
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