For my friend Rick.
You are my hero.
You are not perfect.
You are not always right.
You are not always good.
You are not always happy.
You are not always level-headed.
You are not always pretty.
You are not always confident.
You are not always competent.
You are my hero because you are you with me.
You are my hero because of the way you handle your challenges.
You are my hero because in the midst of tough times, you think of others, and I have benefitted from that.
You are my hero because of your willingness to share.
You are my hero.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Saturday, January 14, 2006
"I Knew."
My eyes turned slowly to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ,
Shame overwhelmed me
As I contemplated all He had done for me
Upon the cross
And afterwards, too.
I closed my eyes and lowered my head
But he reached out, cupped my chin in His large hand
And drew it upwards.
“Open your eyes,” He spoke gently
I slowly opened my eyes to the light that was Him.
“It has been a while,” He said.
Indeed it had.
The sadness in me poured out,
My sins, my hurts, my heart,
He took them in
And I could see my sins, my hurts and my heart
Reflected in His eyes and on His face
As He never turned away from me.
Silence, as He absorbed me.
And then He simply said,
“I knew.”
Shame overwhelmed me
As I contemplated all He had done for me
Upon the cross
And afterwards, too.
I closed my eyes and lowered my head
But he reached out, cupped my chin in His large hand
And drew it upwards.
“Open your eyes,” He spoke gently
I slowly opened my eyes to the light that was Him.
“It has been a while,” He said.
Indeed it had.
The sadness in me poured out,
My sins, my hurts, my heart,
He took them in
And I could see my sins, my hurts and my heart
Reflected in His eyes and on His face
As He never turned away from me.
Silence, as He absorbed me.
And then He simply said,
“I knew.”
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Pianissimo
“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in your weakness.”
2 Corinthians 12:9 (New International Version)
Dear God - Pianissimo
So, it has been a while since I have played the piano. I am not a gifted pianist by any stretch of the imagination, and the purpose of my playing tends to be for relaxation and refocusing. Today, when I first struck the keys, the realization hit me of how much I missed playing the piano lately.
My training, such as it is, is in the classical genre, and I don’t really have favorites, just favorite pieces by different composers. Today, I started with Weber, then played some pieces by Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Schubert, Clementi, and Kuhlau. But one piece in particular that struck me today was one by Haydn – a little Adagio, part of a Sonatina.
Now, usually when I play the piano, and envision playing for God in Heaven, I am grateful for His grace and pray that He fixes the many wrong notes that I play. Once in a while, though, when I am playing for Him, there is a beauty that comes through that transcends my actual abilities. Tonight was one of those rare times. I played the first page of the Adagio, and let the beauty of the delicate music wash over me. Nothing I did seemed to be able to ruin this music. I began playing the final page and was astounded that the beauty of the music far surpassed the first page. Each note, chord, rhythm seemed nearly perfectly played to me and the sheer beauty of the pianissimo (i.e., very soft and quiet) music touched my heart in such a way as to cause tears to pour out from my eyes.
This was quite surprising to me, and caused me some concern, until I heard Him speak to me. “Kathy, as beautiful as this music is to you, you are to me.”
He knew that I’ve been feeling old, gray and heavy. That I’ve been reflecting on too many years wasted and feeling quite old. That I’ve been worrying too much, sleeping too little and thus seeing a grayness come into my features. That I’ve been seeing the results of too many calories in and zero calories out on my body and feeling heavy with discouragement.
I am grateful that God allowed me to hear with His ears tonight. I pray for the humility and grace that would have me see and hear others as He sees and hears me.
2 Corinthians 12:9 (New International Version)
Dear God - Pianissimo
So, it has been a while since I have played the piano. I am not a gifted pianist by any stretch of the imagination, and the purpose of my playing tends to be for relaxation and refocusing. Today, when I first struck the keys, the realization hit me of how much I missed playing the piano lately.
My training, such as it is, is in the classical genre, and I don’t really have favorites, just favorite pieces by different composers. Today, I started with Weber, then played some pieces by Mozart, Beethoven, Bach, Schubert, Clementi, and Kuhlau. But one piece in particular that struck me today was one by Haydn – a little Adagio, part of a Sonatina.
Now, usually when I play the piano, and envision playing for God in Heaven, I am grateful for His grace and pray that He fixes the many wrong notes that I play. Once in a while, though, when I am playing for Him, there is a beauty that comes through that transcends my actual abilities. Tonight was one of those rare times. I played the first page of the Adagio, and let the beauty of the delicate music wash over me. Nothing I did seemed to be able to ruin this music. I began playing the final page and was astounded that the beauty of the music far surpassed the first page. Each note, chord, rhythm seemed nearly perfectly played to me and the sheer beauty of the pianissimo (i.e., very soft and quiet) music touched my heart in such a way as to cause tears to pour out from my eyes.
This was quite surprising to me, and caused me some concern, until I heard Him speak to me. “Kathy, as beautiful as this music is to you, you are to me.”
He knew that I’ve been feeling old, gray and heavy. That I’ve been reflecting on too many years wasted and feeling quite old. That I’ve been worrying too much, sleeping too little and thus seeing a grayness come into my features. That I’ve been seeing the results of too many calories in and zero calories out on my body and feeling heavy with discouragement.
I am grateful that God allowed me to hear with His ears tonight. I pray for the humility and grace that would have me see and hear others as He sees and hears me.
Friday, January 06, 2006
Fishy
I knew a pretty little fish
In a pretty little fishbowl
Who swam around and said “I wish
That I could see the North Pole!”
I said, “Fishy, I do love you
And I wish I could agree
But I see your home is messy
And is littered with debris.
How can I give you to the sea
When your home needs such repair
I tell you what my fine finned friend
Clean up and then I’ll send you……there!”
I pointed clear across the room
And Fishy looked there with me
His eyes grew big as saucers
At what he did not before see.
A fish tank twenty times as big
As Fishy’s little fishbowl
With plants and snails and other fish
With whom to share his fish soul.
So, Fishy tidied up his bowl
With his fins he swept his home
For a week he did this every day
And I thought the time had come.
In a pretty little fishbowl
Who swam around and said “I wish
That I could see the North Pole!”
I said, “Fishy, I do love you
And I wish I could agree
But I see your home is messy
And is littered with debris.
How can I give you to the sea
When your home needs such repair
I tell you what my fine finned friend
Clean up and then I’ll send you……there!”
I pointed clear across the room
And Fishy looked there with me
His eyes grew big as saucers
At what he did not before see.
A fish tank twenty times as big
As Fishy’s little fishbowl
With plants and snails and other fish
With whom to share his fish soul.
So, Fishy tidied up his bowl
With his fins he swept his home
For a week he did this every day
And I thought the time had come.
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Christmas 2005
Well, it was quite the Christmas this year. I went to bed this morning at about 2:30 a.m. and arose again at about 7:30 a.m. to get ready for church. Our pastor did an excellent job, as usual, of bringing the word of God right to the door of our hearts -- at least, I found that to be the case. One of his prayers for us today was that anyone with a heaviness in their heart (paraphrased) have it lightened -- I pray for that today....
I've always been artistically inclined and fairly subject to deep emotions -- deep happiness as well as deep sadness. And most times, I am happy for that, as I regard it as intense living. But once in a while, even-keeled seems a better way to go. This is one of those times.
A friend of mine (Emily -- link on the right) wrote a poem about brokenness which talks about being broken like glass. That is close to what I feel like, except it is more like my heart is being shred with shards of glass. Why?
I've always been artistically inclined and fairly subject to deep emotions -- deep happiness as well as deep sadness. And most times, I am happy for that, as I regard it as intense living. But once in a while, even-keeled seems a better way to go. This is one of those times.
A friend of mine (Emily -- link on the right) wrote a poem about brokenness which talks about being broken like glass. That is close to what I feel like, except it is more like my heart is being shred with shards of glass. Why?
Saturday, December 17, 2005
A Friend
Lord, I lift a friend of mine to you
I ask you now to see him through
The tests and trials he will face
I pray you help him win the race.
I ask you now to see him through
The tests and trials he will face
I pray you help him win the race.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Don't Weep For Me
Some look at me and sigh because
They see what once they thought I was
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Some look at me with sympathy
My clothes are old, my time is free
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Some look at me with great disdain
Of my possessions few remain
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Some think I’ve failed, have not prevailed
From God they say I’ve not availed
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Some pierce my heart with words to hurt
To baser instincts they revert
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Some walk past me, refuse to see
Some others laughing, mocking me
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Some others lie and just stand by
Their faith, hope, love have gone awry
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Some can’t sit still against their will
Like animals they seek to kill
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
But worst of all some stand so tall
They know what's right but yet they fall
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
They see what once they thought I was
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Some look at me with sympathy
My clothes are old, my time is free
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Some look at me with great disdain
Of my possessions few remain
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Some think I’ve failed, have not prevailed
From God they say I’ve not availed
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Some pierce my heart with words to hurt
To baser instincts they revert
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Some walk past me, refuse to see
Some others laughing, mocking me
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Some others lie and just stand by
Their faith, hope, love have gone awry
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Some can’t sit still against their will
Like animals they seek to kill
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
But worst of all some stand so tall
They know what's right but yet they fall
Don’t weep for me
I weep for thee.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Day 3
Annabella twisted and turned and twisted and turned some more, but still could not see who was speaking to her with such a soothing and melodic voice. In fact, she couldn’t see any other ornaments on the tree at all and thought “How strange! I saw so many ornaments when I saw the tree from far away earlier. Where did they all go?” Of course, she couldn’t really twist upwards to see if there were other ornaments above her on the tree. “Maybe that’s where they are,” she thought.
“Annabella,” she said in little more than a whimper now.
“What’d she say?” asked a low, growly voice.
“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!” repeated a high-pitched, impatient voice.
“Well, someone oughta tell her to SPEAK UP if she’s got anything worthwhile to say!” said the low, growly voice.
“I know, I know, I know!” replied the high-pitched, impatient voice.
“Now Grumples,” said the soothing voice, “please quiet down your big bear voice a bit, and Squeaky, please stop repeating yourself in that annoying mouse chatter. Perhaps we can figure out who this ballerina is and get to know a bit about where she came from.”
“Just wait a moment,” a clipped, firm voice spoke up. “I think you will all agree that given my history as a soldier on this tree and the many medals I have on my uniform, I should be the one asking questions of any new arrivals. I am the best qualified of all of us to determine if this new arrival is a “plant” or someone we can trust to follow our protocols and procedures.”
Soft groans and some snickers were heard throughout the tree.
“Now, Captain,” the soothing voice seemed even sweeter than it had before, “let’s not overwhelm anyone with procedures and protocols without welcoming them first. Young lady, would you be so kind as to say your name a bit louder – this is a large tree, and everyone would like to know who you are.”
“My name is Annabella,” said the young ballerina.
“Annabella…..Annabella….. Annabella…..,” her name was echoed around the tree.
“Annabella,” she said in little more than a whimper now.
“What’d she say?” asked a low, growly voice.
“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!” repeated a high-pitched, impatient voice.
“Well, someone oughta tell her to SPEAK UP if she’s got anything worthwhile to say!” said the low, growly voice.
“I know, I know, I know!” replied the high-pitched, impatient voice.
“Now Grumples,” said the soothing voice, “please quiet down your big bear voice a bit, and Squeaky, please stop repeating yourself in that annoying mouse chatter. Perhaps we can figure out who this ballerina is and get to know a bit about where she came from.”
“Just wait a moment,” a clipped, firm voice spoke up. “I think you will all agree that given my history as a soldier on this tree and the many medals I have on my uniform, I should be the one asking questions of any new arrivals. I am the best qualified of all of us to determine if this new arrival is a “plant” or someone we can trust to follow our protocols and procedures.”
Soft groans and some snickers were heard throughout the tree.
“Now, Captain,” the soothing voice seemed even sweeter than it had before, “let’s not overwhelm anyone with procedures and protocols without welcoming them first. Young lady, would you be so kind as to say your name a bit louder – this is a large tree, and everyone would like to know who you are.”
“My name is Annabella,” said the young ballerina.
“Annabella…..Annabella….. Annabella…..,” her name was echoed around the tree.
Friday, December 02, 2005
Day 2
“Pssssstt….ssssshhhh……” Little by little, whispers of small voices intruded into the silence. Annabella opened her eyes and surveyed her surroundings. She had been so afraid when her carrier approached the tree, that she shut her eyes as tightly as she could. But now, as she opened them, she could see that she had been put on one of the bottom branches of the tree. She looked down and a small squeak escaped her lips – there was nothing between she and the floor which looked very hard and far away. “What will happen if I fall,” she cried to herself. “Surely my legs will break! And if my legs break, I will lose my beauty and forever be removed from the tree.” Annabella wanted to shut her eyes again and hope that the fear would go away, but she forced herself to raise her eyes.
“Pssssstt…..ssssshhh……” Annabella heard the whispers again. She looked to her left and right. “What dazzling lights!” There were little white, yellow, red, green, blue, purple, and orange lights, twinkling on and off.
“Pssssstt…..ssssshhh…..” Annabella couldn’t stand it any longer, gathered up her courage and spoke out in the strongest voice she could muster up – “Who is whispering there and why don’t you speak up? It is quite rude to whisper, you know. And frankly, I am lonely here and wouldn’t mind some company!” The whispers stopped completely.
She waited, and waited, and waited. Silence.
“Well, we didn’t want to scare you any more than you were already, so we thought we would try and be quiet for a while and let you get adjusted to your new situation. But, since you are eager, exactly who are you?”
“Pssssstt…..ssssshhh……” Annabella heard the whispers again. She looked to her left and right. “What dazzling lights!” There were little white, yellow, red, green, blue, purple, and orange lights, twinkling on and off.
“Pssssstt…..ssssshhh…..” Annabella couldn’t stand it any longer, gathered up her courage and spoke out in the strongest voice she could muster up – “Who is whispering there and why don’t you speak up? It is quite rude to whisper, you know. And frankly, I am lonely here and wouldn’t mind some company!” The whispers stopped completely.
She waited, and waited, and waited. Silence.
“Well, we didn’t want to scare you any more than you were already, so we thought we would try and be quiet for a while and let you get adjusted to your new situation. But, since you are eager, exactly who are you?”
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Day 1
“Finally!” Annabella wanted to yell out this word as she was gently lifted out of the box. She had given up all hope of ever escaping her prison of cardboard and plastic. Wasn’t she pretty enough? Every time the box was opened, she had tried extra hard to look pretty and sparkling, stretching her tiny little ballerina toes as far as she could for an even more delicate look, and smiling as wide as possible to show off her sparkling white teeth and her twinkling blue eyes.
But it was always one of her sisters or brothers that was chosen. Her box was stored in a closet in a child’s bedroom – the child currently holding Annabella in her hands – of the pretty house. Now, if the door to that closet was just slightly open, she could see her reflection in the plastic cover of the box. When her sisters were still living in the box, she could see their reflection, too. She thought they all looked very much alike – they were all pretty little ballerinas waiting to be put on the tree. Her brothers were handsome ice-skaters, with rosy cheeks, red scarves, and sweaters with all kinds of designs on them.
As she was carried to the pretty little spruce tree on its own table near the window of the living room, she could see some of her sisters and brothers looking at her from several different positions on the tree and she wondered where she would be put. She was very excited to see, hear, smell, and feel different things, but she was also just a little afraid. She had never been taken out of the box before – what would this new world and life on the tree be like for her? Would she be able to survive? Would she like it or wish she had stayed in her comfortable, but very lonely box?
But it was always one of her sisters or brothers that was chosen. Her box was stored in a closet in a child’s bedroom – the child currently holding Annabella in her hands – of the pretty house. Now, if the door to that closet was just slightly open, she could see her reflection in the plastic cover of the box. When her sisters were still living in the box, she could see their reflection, too. She thought they all looked very much alike – they were all pretty little ballerinas waiting to be put on the tree. Her brothers were handsome ice-skaters, with rosy cheeks, red scarves, and sweaters with all kinds of designs on them.
As she was carried to the pretty little spruce tree on its own table near the window of the living room, she could see some of her sisters and brothers looking at her from several different positions on the tree and she wondered where she would be put. She was very excited to see, hear, smell, and feel different things, but she was also just a little afraid. She had never been taken out of the box before – what would this new world and life on the tree be like for her? Would she be able to survive? Would she like it or wish she had stayed in her comfortable, but very lonely box?
Monday, November 21, 2005
How It Is Supposed To Be
“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.
He will not let your foot slip—
He who watches over you will not slumber;
Indeed, he who watches over Israel
Will neither slumber nor sleep.
The LORD watches over you—
The LORD is your shade at your right hand;
The sun will not harm you by day,
Nor the moon by night.
The LORD will keep you from all harm—
He will watch over your life;
The LORD will watch over your coming and going
Both now and forevermore.”
-- Psalm 121
How It Is Supposed To Be
Well, I am quite surprised. I almost wish that culturally we could agree to not celebrate birthdays, to ignore them in the hopes that they will not come to pass, or to just let them go by as any other day.
I don’t know about you, but as my birthday comes every year, I evaluate my entire life in light of the number of years I have been on this earth. And although I’ve had some good birthdays, even great ones, most of my birthday evaluations don’t result in me giving myself a good grade. In fact, on most birthdays, I am miserable. Miserable.
This year, the time leading up to my birthday was no exception to this general rule. I thought I was doing okay with the whole thing – I really did. But the past couple of days, as I’ve approached 44 years of age, a single, childless, graying, quite out-of-shape woman, living in a room and board in Edmonton, Alberta, I’ve started experiencing heartache like I have never experienced before. An ache for how it was supposed to be.
Lately, I’ve been feeling a little discouraged with my career. I won’t bore you with all the reasons, except to say that in my culture at my age, most people are a lot further in this area of their life than I am – at least, the people that I would like to emulate. I’ve been asking God to help me with these feelings of inadequacy, and sometimes I think I’m progressing, but the feelings of inadequacy have not gone away, and I still feel a bit of a failure. Really, sometimes I wonder if I even care at all about my career. Whatever I do, I like to do well, but very little seems truly important to me, other than the people aspect of things.
I put that on the backburner, though, as I went to a Christmas banquet on Friday evening, two days before my birthday. Oh, what a beautiful banquet that was, too. Our prayer room was decorated like a winter forest with real trees. The look and smell were fabulous! The meal was scrumptious, the speaker was great, the company at our table was wonderful -- all in all, a great evening. It was a little bit of a downer being a single in the midst of couples or couples to be, but it didn’t seem that significant to begin with.
That night, I met the Buntings – Ken and Sybil – he was a pastor at Central a while back. Talking with the Buntings was just fabulous. Both are in their 90’s and they spoke with the playful affection and banter of a couple that has been together, has grown together, has loved one another, for a very long time. It was awesome just to be in their presence. I thought, “This is how it is supposed to be.”
And though I marveled, my heart ached as well. These people have wonderful children (I’ve met them) and grandchildren and great grandchildren as well. They spoke of them proudly and fondly. Why aren’t I married with children, with the hope of children and grandchildren to come?
I tucked all that away, though, as I went into the church on Saturday, the eve of my birthday, to help with the construction of the Singing Christmas Tree. Shortly after I got there, I noticed that someone I was once quite fond of myself was there with his fiancée. I thought I was completely beyond any kind of attachment, especially since the attachment was mostly on my side – I’d prayed for he and his fiancée quite a bit, so was pretty sure I would be okay. And I was, until I went upstairs to get a phone number for someone, and became very reluctant to go back downstairs. I decided I would do some laminating for a while, and it was while I was laminating that I started really thinking about my life and “how it was supposed to be.”
I went to the little kitchen to get a cup for some water and glanced in the mirror. Oh no. How did this happen yet again. So heavy, so gray, so drawn, so weary. I could not recall ever having looked so awful in all my life. “This is not how it is supposed to be,” I thought.
I was surprised when I suddenly felt my heart contract. Was this going to be my “Happy Birthday”? Every which way I turned, there was evidence that nothing in my life is as it should be. I felt sucker-punched for sure, and it seemed like I was receiving blow after blow after blow – right to my heart.
But I composed myself, gathered the shreds of my heart and patched them loosely back together as I went to the kitchen to help, in an attempt to avoid any more negative thoughts and feelings. I figured Nellie and Debbie (Nellie’s daughter) could maybe use some help. They were sitting and chatting with Wilma and another lady when I joined them. We chatted. Just interacting with Nellie and Debbie, and watching them interact with their grandchildren and children, I thought, “This is how it is supposed to be.” My eyes welled up, though I don’t think anyone noticed. My heart cried out for the grandchildren that should have been in my life.
I put all that aside as I served hamburger soup so I would not have to sit and eat with anyone other than the wonderful ladies in the kitchen. A friend of mine had agreed to go to a restaurant opening with me in the early afternoon, so I actually did not have a chance to eat with anyone anyways. I had originally planned to come back and help more with the Tree late in the afternoon, but I just could not bring myself to be in the midst of “how it is supposed to be” anymore that day.
So my friend and I decided to go toodling around some local shops. We parked on a neighborhood street and walked to the little shops. As we walked down the street and by pretty, well-kept homes, some with little lights twinkling inside, I imagined the mothers, fathers and children inside and thought, “This is how it is supposed to be.” My heart cried out, “Why isn’t this how it is in my life?”
Mostly, the eve of my 44th birthday was not what I would call a very stellar moment. I tried not to, but I wallowed excessively, despite being disgusted with myself for the wallowing. In light of this, I was in dread of the following day. I did not want to get up and go to church on my birthday. What was I going to hear in the sermon? Answers to why I’m not the way I am supposed to be? God speaking into my ear? What? What? What?
“I lift up my eyes to the hills – where does my help come from?”
But, if nothing else, I am persistent. One thing I do understand is the importance of persistence. Even when things don’t seem right, or balanced, or fair, or possible, persistence is crucial. I’ve noticed even in the darkest of times that persistence results in some light being shed. And so off I went to church and thus, this birthday was no exception to this rule.
It is hard to stay immersed in darkness when you come to my church, Central Tabernacle. There are so many loving people here to encourage you back into the light. As I wandered around in the foyer, many of my church family wished me “Happy Birthday”. Many hugs and well wishes later, I went into the sanctuary for the service. I’d heard someone on the radio (Shine FM) say on the way into church that “if you need a boost, if you are feeling low, praise God.” I was eager to praise God and grateful to have the opportunity to worship Him right away.
“My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”
The service was centered on Psalm 121 – one of my favorites. And the message I heard was that “harm, setbacks, or suffering are (1) temporary – come to pass, and (2) transformational.” An inspiring message of hope. One of our church moms, who leads some of our children, helped us with methods to memorize this entire Psalm – in fact, she did a “rap” type version of the verses that was quite fun! Already, the day was dramatically improving.
My closest friends took me to lunch for my birthday and I was spoiled with gifts as well. But the best part of this crowd is just being with them. They are very busy people -- they are always helping people to keep from stumbling, watching out for people, caring for people – true shepherds. I honestly don’t know where they find the time to do all that they do – perhaps they don’t sleep.
“He will not let your foot slip – he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.”
In the evening, it was on to my small group meeting. A football game, more hugs and birthday wishes, a good study about “generosity” – could you ask for anything more? A good birthday night, as well as a good birthday.
“The Lord watches over you – the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.”
I don’t know the answers to my questions, and I don’t expect to know the answers before I meet God face to face and He clues me in. I don’t know why birthdays are so hard for me. I don’t know why it is that there are times when I seem to get sucker punched over and over and over again. I do know that when that happens, and I look up to the Lord, He lets me know that He is watching over my life, that He is caring, that He is always there for me.
“The Lord will keep you from all harm – he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.”
I find that He does this by sending His missionaries into my life with hugs, fellowship, well wishes, kind words, good sermons, and yes, even birthday lunches. Sometimes the smallest acts of kindness are just what is needed at the time. Every hug, every kind word, every “Happy Birthday”, every bit of the sermon and Psalm 121, every little morsel of that delicious birthday lunch, and every minute of my friends’ time, was a treasure to me on this 44th birthday. Thank you, Lord, for sending your missionaries to me at just the right time – I guess this is how it is supposed to be.
Whose missionary would you have me be?
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
The Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip—
He who watches over you will not slumber;
Indeed, he who watches over Israel
Will neither slumber nor sleep.
The LORD watches over you—
The LORD is your shade at your right hand;
The sun will not harm you by day,
Nor the moon by night.
The LORD will keep you from all harm—
He will watch over your life;
The LORD will watch over your coming and going
Both now and forevermore.”
-- Psalm 121
How It Is Supposed To Be
Well, I am quite surprised. I almost wish that culturally we could agree to not celebrate birthdays, to ignore them in the hopes that they will not come to pass, or to just let them go by as any other day.
I don’t know about you, but as my birthday comes every year, I evaluate my entire life in light of the number of years I have been on this earth. And although I’ve had some good birthdays, even great ones, most of my birthday evaluations don’t result in me giving myself a good grade. In fact, on most birthdays, I am miserable. Miserable.
This year, the time leading up to my birthday was no exception to this general rule. I thought I was doing okay with the whole thing – I really did. But the past couple of days, as I’ve approached 44 years of age, a single, childless, graying, quite out-of-shape woman, living in a room and board in Edmonton, Alberta, I’ve started experiencing heartache like I have never experienced before. An ache for how it was supposed to be.
Lately, I’ve been feeling a little discouraged with my career. I won’t bore you with all the reasons, except to say that in my culture at my age, most people are a lot further in this area of their life than I am – at least, the people that I would like to emulate. I’ve been asking God to help me with these feelings of inadequacy, and sometimes I think I’m progressing, but the feelings of inadequacy have not gone away, and I still feel a bit of a failure. Really, sometimes I wonder if I even care at all about my career. Whatever I do, I like to do well, but very little seems truly important to me, other than the people aspect of things.
I put that on the backburner, though, as I went to a Christmas banquet on Friday evening, two days before my birthday. Oh, what a beautiful banquet that was, too. Our prayer room was decorated like a winter forest with real trees. The look and smell were fabulous! The meal was scrumptious, the speaker was great, the company at our table was wonderful -- all in all, a great evening. It was a little bit of a downer being a single in the midst of couples or couples to be, but it didn’t seem that significant to begin with.
That night, I met the Buntings – Ken and Sybil – he was a pastor at Central a while back. Talking with the Buntings was just fabulous. Both are in their 90’s and they spoke with the playful affection and banter of a couple that has been together, has grown together, has loved one another, for a very long time. It was awesome just to be in their presence. I thought, “This is how it is supposed to be.”
And though I marveled, my heart ached as well. These people have wonderful children (I’ve met them) and grandchildren and great grandchildren as well. They spoke of them proudly and fondly. Why aren’t I married with children, with the hope of children and grandchildren to come?
I tucked all that away, though, as I went into the church on Saturday, the eve of my birthday, to help with the construction of the Singing Christmas Tree. Shortly after I got there, I noticed that someone I was once quite fond of myself was there with his fiancée. I thought I was completely beyond any kind of attachment, especially since the attachment was mostly on my side – I’d prayed for he and his fiancée quite a bit, so was pretty sure I would be okay. And I was, until I went upstairs to get a phone number for someone, and became very reluctant to go back downstairs. I decided I would do some laminating for a while, and it was while I was laminating that I started really thinking about my life and “how it was supposed to be.”
I went to the little kitchen to get a cup for some water and glanced in the mirror. Oh no. How did this happen yet again. So heavy, so gray, so drawn, so weary. I could not recall ever having looked so awful in all my life. “This is not how it is supposed to be,” I thought.
I was surprised when I suddenly felt my heart contract. Was this going to be my “Happy Birthday”? Every which way I turned, there was evidence that nothing in my life is as it should be. I felt sucker-punched for sure, and it seemed like I was receiving blow after blow after blow – right to my heart.
But I composed myself, gathered the shreds of my heart and patched them loosely back together as I went to the kitchen to help, in an attempt to avoid any more negative thoughts and feelings. I figured Nellie and Debbie (Nellie’s daughter) could maybe use some help. They were sitting and chatting with Wilma and another lady when I joined them. We chatted. Just interacting with Nellie and Debbie, and watching them interact with their grandchildren and children, I thought, “This is how it is supposed to be.” My eyes welled up, though I don’t think anyone noticed. My heart cried out for the grandchildren that should have been in my life.
I put all that aside as I served hamburger soup so I would not have to sit and eat with anyone other than the wonderful ladies in the kitchen. A friend of mine had agreed to go to a restaurant opening with me in the early afternoon, so I actually did not have a chance to eat with anyone anyways. I had originally planned to come back and help more with the Tree late in the afternoon, but I just could not bring myself to be in the midst of “how it is supposed to be” anymore that day.
So my friend and I decided to go toodling around some local shops. We parked on a neighborhood street and walked to the little shops. As we walked down the street and by pretty, well-kept homes, some with little lights twinkling inside, I imagined the mothers, fathers and children inside and thought, “This is how it is supposed to be.” My heart cried out, “Why isn’t this how it is in my life?”
Mostly, the eve of my 44th birthday was not what I would call a very stellar moment. I tried not to, but I wallowed excessively, despite being disgusted with myself for the wallowing. In light of this, I was in dread of the following day. I did not want to get up and go to church on my birthday. What was I going to hear in the sermon? Answers to why I’m not the way I am supposed to be? God speaking into my ear? What? What? What?
“I lift up my eyes to the hills – where does my help come from?”
But, if nothing else, I am persistent. One thing I do understand is the importance of persistence. Even when things don’t seem right, or balanced, or fair, or possible, persistence is crucial. I’ve noticed even in the darkest of times that persistence results in some light being shed. And so off I went to church and thus, this birthday was no exception to this rule.
It is hard to stay immersed in darkness when you come to my church, Central Tabernacle. There are so many loving people here to encourage you back into the light. As I wandered around in the foyer, many of my church family wished me “Happy Birthday”. Many hugs and well wishes later, I went into the sanctuary for the service. I’d heard someone on the radio (Shine FM) say on the way into church that “if you need a boost, if you are feeling low, praise God.” I was eager to praise God and grateful to have the opportunity to worship Him right away.
“My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”
The service was centered on Psalm 121 – one of my favorites. And the message I heard was that “harm, setbacks, or suffering are (1) temporary – come to pass, and (2) transformational.” An inspiring message of hope. One of our church moms, who leads some of our children, helped us with methods to memorize this entire Psalm – in fact, she did a “rap” type version of the verses that was quite fun! Already, the day was dramatically improving.
My closest friends took me to lunch for my birthday and I was spoiled with gifts as well. But the best part of this crowd is just being with them. They are very busy people -- they are always helping people to keep from stumbling, watching out for people, caring for people – true shepherds. I honestly don’t know where they find the time to do all that they do – perhaps they don’t sleep.
“He will not let your foot slip – he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.”
In the evening, it was on to my small group meeting. A football game, more hugs and birthday wishes, a good study about “generosity” – could you ask for anything more? A good birthday night, as well as a good birthday.
“The Lord watches over you – the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.”
I don’t know the answers to my questions, and I don’t expect to know the answers before I meet God face to face and He clues me in. I don’t know why birthdays are so hard for me. I don’t know why it is that there are times when I seem to get sucker punched over and over and over again. I do know that when that happens, and I look up to the Lord, He lets me know that He is watching over my life, that He is caring, that He is always there for me.
“The Lord will keep you from all harm – he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.”
I find that He does this by sending His missionaries into my life with hugs, fellowship, well wishes, kind words, good sermons, and yes, even birthday lunches. Sometimes the smallest acts of kindness are just what is needed at the time. Every hug, every kind word, every “Happy Birthday”, every bit of the sermon and Psalm 121, every little morsel of that delicious birthday lunch, and every minute of my friends’ time, was a treasure to me on this 44th birthday. Thank you, Lord, for sending your missionaries to me at just the right time – I guess this is how it is supposed to be.
Whose missionary would you have me be?
Friday, November 18, 2005
The Job Shadower
“ When Jesus came to Simon Peter, Peter said to him, ‘Lord, are you going to wash my feet?’
Jesus replied, ‘You don’t understand now what I am doing, but someday you will.’
‘No,’ Peter protested, ‘you will never ever wash my feet!’
Jesus replied, ‘Unless I wash you, you won’t belong to me.’ “
John 13:6-8 (New Living Translation)
The Job Shadower
I found myself in a predicament I had not faced before – a young lady, let’s call her Clarissa, asked me if she could come to work and “shadow” me on the job. She had originally asked Steve, a friend who is also the president of a bible college in Edmonton, but he was going to be out of town. She had also asked Brenda, another friend who is a manager in a care facility in Edmonton, but she was also not going to be available.
Oh no. My first reaction was truthfully, “What kind of cruel trick is somebody trying to play on this young girl?” Those other choices were much better and there are many other better choices she could make than to shadow me. We have several pastors in the church and we have congregation members in all sorts of positions who could perhaps really inspire Clarissa to go into a career where she could flourish and grow. I on the other hand, at 43 years of age, have taken several leaps backwards and am in transition. I currently am completing my degree by doing a practicum at my church, working as an IT Specialist and Special Events Coordinator and also, by default, the office secretary – something I swore a long time ago that I would never do again. I have not managed any practical aspect of my day-to-day life at all well, including my career, and don’t feel that I am a very good example for anyone who still has hope.
I really like Clarissa. She is in 9th grade and is 14 years old, but she looks like she could be 12 years old and in 6th grade. She knows this – in fact, she informed me of this early on in the day. I assured her that looking younger would appeal to her later on, but in fact she doesn’t seem bothered by it now! I would guess she is about 5’5”, well-proportioned and fit, very light brown hair with lots of blonde highlights, a slightly square face (she informed me of that, too!) that is benefited by wearing square earrings. Her eyes are a gray/blue I believe and she has a beautiful complexion with naturally adorable rosy red cheeks. I will do just about anything to make Callista smile – she has an extremely engaging and overall winsome smile.
What was I going to do? I hemmed and hawed and prayed, and prayed, and prayed, as quickly as I could when she asked me over the phone. In retrospect, I am amazed at the amount of melodrama I experience or cause myself to experience in my life, but nevertheless, I am very concerned for young people and understand the importance of good examples in their lives. And sometimes, I just feel like a big contaminant, bad luck, poisoned goods. And I think that stems mostly from a realization that I don’t want anyone to spend 43 years growing up when it can be achieved much more quickly than that.
However, as I prayed, a voice said to me, “Are you going to disappoint a young girl because you feel inadequate? Aren’t you here working for me? If so, then what is the problem? Or do you get your sense of worth from others than me?”
“Well, God, I don’t really know. I’m trying to convince myself this is not about P R I D E. I can’t help but feel that I would have been a better example a year ago or more than I am now. I have not accomplished much and seem to fall periodically into some kind of a slump. You keep helping me and blessing me in so many different ways that make it abundantly clear you are at work, but I often feel an absolute failure that you have to bail out over and over again. I am afraid of allowing myself to get stuck in a rut again and not accomplishing what you would have me do.”
“Have you thought of the possibility that this little assignment might not be about you but rather about Clarissa? I’ve used people in positions you would consider lesser than yours to do my work.”
Ah, yes. “Okay, Clarissa – I would love to have you shadow me at work.”
And so, Clarissa came one day a couple of weeks ago. She grinned right away. We chatted a bit, and then she asked a series of questions that the school wanted asked.
“What do you like most about your job?” The people – the fact that what I do affects many people.
She also helped with printing labels, labeling envelopes, and putting postage on envelopes.
“What do you like least about your job?” The repetitive stuff and the interruptive things like answering the phone and door.
When lunchtime rolled around, we walked to the local grocery store to purchase fixings for a tuna salad lunch. Believe it or not, I felt it was very important to model getting up and walking at lunch. (It would be better to actually model it by doing it on a regular basis.) Anyway, the Kaups were unloading a trailer full of beautiful spruce (I think) to decorate for our Christmas banquet, and two of the three had not brought their lunch, so we offered to make lunch for them, too. So, we got our lunch stuff: tuna, honey wheatberry bread, carrots and red pepper (healthy) and chips and Clarissa’s favorite cookies (not as healthy).
We made lunch and ate lunch and talked some more. Clarissa has several careers in mind: lawyer (she told me that she “argues” well), French teacher, art teacher, children’s pastor (she LOVES the nursery work in the church), and mother. I’m quite certain she will do well no matter what she chooses. She has a confident and well-adjusted presence, and my guess is that once she selects something, she will persist until it is achieved.
Clarissa learned how to use the shredder and was quite excited to be shredding some stuff that had built up over a period of time. It was great having someone in the office who was excited to be doing some of the more mundane activities needing to get done.
I can no longer remember the other questions that Clarissa asked – they seemed painfully pointed then, geared toward making me really evaluate my life situation, but in hindsight have perhaps lost some of their impact.
“Lord, thank you for the opportunity to spend a day with Clarissa, a beautiful, young lady with a bright future ahead of her. I pray that while she shadowed me, there was some positive impact on her life. I pray that she remains free of the cynicism and pride that you are having to work on in me, no matter what path she chooses for her career. Thank you, Lord, for inviting me to shadow you that day – I pray that in some way I did, even if it was only for a moment or two. Amen.”
Jesus replied, ‘You don’t understand now what I am doing, but someday you will.’
‘No,’ Peter protested, ‘you will never ever wash my feet!’
Jesus replied, ‘Unless I wash you, you won’t belong to me.’ “
John 13:6-8 (New Living Translation)
The Job Shadower
I found myself in a predicament I had not faced before – a young lady, let’s call her Clarissa, asked me if she could come to work and “shadow” me on the job. She had originally asked Steve, a friend who is also the president of a bible college in Edmonton, but he was going to be out of town. She had also asked Brenda, another friend who is a manager in a care facility in Edmonton, but she was also not going to be available.
Oh no. My first reaction was truthfully, “What kind of cruel trick is somebody trying to play on this young girl?” Those other choices were much better and there are many other better choices she could make than to shadow me. We have several pastors in the church and we have congregation members in all sorts of positions who could perhaps really inspire Clarissa to go into a career where she could flourish and grow. I on the other hand, at 43 years of age, have taken several leaps backwards and am in transition. I currently am completing my degree by doing a practicum at my church, working as an IT Specialist and Special Events Coordinator and also, by default, the office secretary – something I swore a long time ago that I would never do again. I have not managed any practical aspect of my day-to-day life at all well, including my career, and don’t feel that I am a very good example for anyone who still has hope.
I really like Clarissa. She is in 9th grade and is 14 years old, but she looks like she could be 12 years old and in 6th grade. She knows this – in fact, she informed me of this early on in the day. I assured her that looking younger would appeal to her later on, but in fact she doesn’t seem bothered by it now! I would guess she is about 5’5”, well-proportioned and fit, very light brown hair with lots of blonde highlights, a slightly square face (she informed me of that, too!) that is benefited by wearing square earrings. Her eyes are a gray/blue I believe and she has a beautiful complexion with naturally adorable rosy red cheeks. I will do just about anything to make Callista smile – she has an extremely engaging and overall winsome smile.
What was I going to do? I hemmed and hawed and prayed, and prayed, and prayed, as quickly as I could when she asked me over the phone. In retrospect, I am amazed at the amount of melodrama I experience or cause myself to experience in my life, but nevertheless, I am very concerned for young people and understand the importance of good examples in their lives. And sometimes, I just feel like a big contaminant, bad luck, poisoned goods. And I think that stems mostly from a realization that I don’t want anyone to spend 43 years growing up when it can be achieved much more quickly than that.
However, as I prayed, a voice said to me, “Are you going to disappoint a young girl because you feel inadequate? Aren’t you here working for me? If so, then what is the problem? Or do you get your sense of worth from others than me?”
“Well, God, I don’t really know. I’m trying to convince myself this is not about P R I D E. I can’t help but feel that I would have been a better example a year ago or more than I am now. I have not accomplished much and seem to fall periodically into some kind of a slump. You keep helping me and blessing me in so many different ways that make it abundantly clear you are at work, but I often feel an absolute failure that you have to bail out over and over again. I am afraid of allowing myself to get stuck in a rut again and not accomplishing what you would have me do.”
“Have you thought of the possibility that this little assignment might not be about you but rather about Clarissa? I’ve used people in positions you would consider lesser than yours to do my work.”
Ah, yes. “Okay, Clarissa – I would love to have you shadow me at work.”
And so, Clarissa came one day a couple of weeks ago. She grinned right away. We chatted a bit, and then she asked a series of questions that the school wanted asked.
“What do you like most about your job?” The people – the fact that what I do affects many people.
She also helped with printing labels, labeling envelopes, and putting postage on envelopes.
“What do you like least about your job?” The repetitive stuff and the interruptive things like answering the phone and door.
When lunchtime rolled around, we walked to the local grocery store to purchase fixings for a tuna salad lunch. Believe it or not, I felt it was very important to model getting up and walking at lunch. (It would be better to actually model it by doing it on a regular basis.) Anyway, the Kaups were unloading a trailer full of beautiful spruce (I think) to decorate for our Christmas banquet, and two of the three had not brought their lunch, so we offered to make lunch for them, too. So, we got our lunch stuff: tuna, honey wheatberry bread, carrots and red pepper (healthy) and chips and Clarissa’s favorite cookies (not as healthy).
We made lunch and ate lunch and talked some more. Clarissa has several careers in mind: lawyer (she told me that she “argues” well), French teacher, art teacher, children’s pastor (she LOVES the nursery work in the church), and mother. I’m quite certain she will do well no matter what she chooses. She has a confident and well-adjusted presence, and my guess is that once she selects something, she will persist until it is achieved.
Clarissa learned how to use the shredder and was quite excited to be shredding some stuff that had built up over a period of time. It was great having someone in the office who was excited to be doing some of the more mundane activities needing to get done.
I can no longer remember the other questions that Clarissa asked – they seemed painfully pointed then, geared toward making me really evaluate my life situation, but in hindsight have perhaps lost some of their impact.
“Lord, thank you for the opportunity to spend a day with Clarissa, a beautiful, young lady with a bright future ahead of her. I pray that while she shadowed me, there was some positive impact on her life. I pray that she remains free of the cynicism and pride that you are having to work on in me, no matter what path she chooses for her career. Thank you, Lord, for inviting me to shadow you that day – I pray that in some way I did, even if it was only for a moment or two. Amen.”
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Great Sunday
Well, it was a great Sunday today. I was in the worship band for the service today, which is always awesome. The band and singers were all excellent and the songs were some of my favorites.
The sermon was probably one of the best I've heard in a while, and was about how to go about figuring out if you are balanced or imbalanced in your life. A major focus was on how the busyness in our lives can distract us from the God that we need. And how we often tend to spin plates -- just tend to them enough to keep them up in the air kind of thing. And how if we can't rest, then God really can't use us like he would like to. That you have to understand you can't do everything you want to do -- there will always be more opportunities than you can take and so you have to choose. And that when you are imbalanced in your life, and you are overstressed, etc., you can say hurtful things, you can think lies are true, etc.
That sermon spoke directly to me.
The sermon was probably one of the best I've heard in a while, and was about how to go about figuring out if you are balanced or imbalanced in your life. A major focus was on how the busyness in our lives can distract us from the God that we need. And how we often tend to spin plates -- just tend to them enough to keep them up in the air kind of thing. And how if we can't rest, then God really can't use us like he would like to. That you have to understand you can't do everything you want to do -- there will always be more opportunities than you can take and so you have to choose. And that when you are imbalanced in your life, and you are overstressed, etc., you can say hurtful things, you can think lies are true, etc.
That sermon spoke directly to me.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Sing For Joy
“Those who have been ransomed by the Lord will return to Jerusalem, singing songs of everlasting joy. Sorrow and mourning will disappear, and they will be overcome with joy and gladness.”
Isaiah 51:11 (New Living Translation)
Sing For Joy
The irony. I’ve been playing a worship song in my car for the last week, and the beautiful refrain goes like this: “Sing for Joy, to God our strength!” The harmony on the refrain is quite close and reminds me so much of African songs, that I can hear it being sung by African voices in my head. Every time I play the song, I think of one of my new housemates: Joy.
Joy is one of four other students living in this room and board, all of whom go to bible college. Now, I’m not sure if there are some of you out there who have stereotypical ideas of how bible college students look and act –- I know I used to have stereotypical ideas in my head -- but Joy would break any of those in less than a minute of meeting her.
She stands about 5’1” tall and has a very tiny frame. Her hair is dyed and heavily highlighted and is left curly but in a very loose ponytail. Her Irish heritage has given her big blue almond-shaped eyes and a quirky, little smile that can quickly grow huge, especially if we are poking fun at one of the other roommates! Her style is often what I call “hippy grunge”. I don’t think I need to explain that further, do you? She sports a nose-ring as so many young adults do, and to top it all off, on her wrist is a tattoo – Hebrew words that when translated mean “Property of God”.
As far as personality goes, at the onset she might seem a bit rough around the edges – some say she has the gift of sarcasm. But sarcasm has a negativity associated with it that I think is missing in her – perhaps at times you could say she is sardonically humorous! But she also seems to me to be a mixture of pragmatism and . . . you guessed it . . . joy. She seems quite humble to me, with no airs about her, and seems to prefer sharing information, confessing, etc., in a straight-up fashion – no beating around the bush. At 24, she is five to seven years older than the other students, and the other students enjoy her immensely because she is still one of them, but more mature.
Joy’s brother died today. He was 37 years old. Apparently, last night, he went to a party and overdid the partying a bit. So, it is guessed he decided to sleep it off in his car, but the car was running and there was a leak somewhere that lead to his death by carbon monoxide poisoning.
My brother is 41 years old. He also recently decided to sleep it off in his car, but was fortunate enough that the car wasn’t running. He was briefly detained at a local police station, then released, though his friend’s car was impounded.
I have been waiting for the call that my brother has died since he was in his early twenties, yet Joy, who is 20 years younger than me, got the call first. I asked her if her brother knew the Lord – she wasn’t sure. But I’m thinking from the things she has told me and since they are PKs (pastor’s kids), and she said he wasn’t troubled or anything like that, that he did. He may not have been very obedient (I guess I can relate to that), but I’m guessing he knew the Lord.
My brother on the other hand does not know the Lord. He is anti-God, anti-religion, anti-spiritual – just one big “anti”. He is a very troubled individual, with alcoholism and depression being two of his major challenges in life. We all thought he really was on his last legs recently, but God has graced him with yet a little more time, another opportunity, etc., to get to know Him. Much to my astonishment. I should not be surprised, really. God is far more gracious and forgiving than I can even understand. I’ve had my brother in the grave for 20 years, but thankfully, God obviously has had different plans.
Tonight, just as the refrain of my newest favorite worship song says, I sing and pray for Joy to God our strength. Lord, I pray she and her family receive strength and peace from you about her brother’s passing. I pray that you take any part of Joy’s brother’s life that is tragic and turn it into something good. I pray that you use this experience in their lives in a greater way than we can imagine, that this does not just become a “fluke” incident in their lives, but that your impact is felt on the family and all the friends as well, through the upcoming weeks. I pray your protection for Joy as she travels to be with her family. And I thank you for the Joy that has come into my life and shown me just a little bit more of you and your amazing ability to affect the lives of so many different and vital people.
I also pray for my brother, Lord. I thank you for your grace in his life and I pray that you open his heart to receiving the forgiveness and grace he is seeking and needs desperately so that he is not a story of tragedy, but of victory.
Thank you, Lord.
Isaiah 51:11 (New Living Translation)
Sing For Joy
The irony. I’ve been playing a worship song in my car for the last week, and the beautiful refrain goes like this: “Sing for Joy, to God our strength!” The harmony on the refrain is quite close and reminds me so much of African songs, that I can hear it being sung by African voices in my head. Every time I play the song, I think of one of my new housemates: Joy.
Joy is one of four other students living in this room and board, all of whom go to bible college. Now, I’m not sure if there are some of you out there who have stereotypical ideas of how bible college students look and act –- I know I used to have stereotypical ideas in my head -- but Joy would break any of those in less than a minute of meeting her.
She stands about 5’1” tall and has a very tiny frame. Her hair is dyed and heavily highlighted and is left curly but in a very loose ponytail. Her Irish heritage has given her big blue almond-shaped eyes and a quirky, little smile that can quickly grow huge, especially if we are poking fun at one of the other roommates! Her style is often what I call “hippy grunge”. I don’t think I need to explain that further, do you? She sports a nose-ring as so many young adults do, and to top it all off, on her wrist is a tattoo – Hebrew words that when translated mean “Property of God”.
As far as personality goes, at the onset she might seem a bit rough around the edges – some say she has the gift of sarcasm. But sarcasm has a negativity associated with it that I think is missing in her – perhaps at times you could say she is sardonically humorous! But she also seems to me to be a mixture of pragmatism and . . . you guessed it . . . joy. She seems quite humble to me, with no airs about her, and seems to prefer sharing information, confessing, etc., in a straight-up fashion – no beating around the bush. At 24, she is five to seven years older than the other students, and the other students enjoy her immensely because she is still one of them, but more mature.
Joy’s brother died today. He was 37 years old. Apparently, last night, he went to a party and overdid the partying a bit. So, it is guessed he decided to sleep it off in his car, but the car was running and there was a leak somewhere that lead to his death by carbon monoxide poisoning.
My brother is 41 years old. He also recently decided to sleep it off in his car, but was fortunate enough that the car wasn’t running. He was briefly detained at a local police station, then released, though his friend’s car was impounded.
I have been waiting for the call that my brother has died since he was in his early twenties, yet Joy, who is 20 years younger than me, got the call first. I asked her if her brother knew the Lord – she wasn’t sure. But I’m thinking from the things she has told me and since they are PKs (pastor’s kids), and she said he wasn’t troubled or anything like that, that he did. He may not have been very obedient (I guess I can relate to that), but I’m guessing he knew the Lord.
My brother on the other hand does not know the Lord. He is anti-God, anti-religion, anti-spiritual – just one big “anti”. He is a very troubled individual, with alcoholism and depression being two of his major challenges in life. We all thought he really was on his last legs recently, but God has graced him with yet a little more time, another opportunity, etc., to get to know Him. Much to my astonishment. I should not be surprised, really. God is far more gracious and forgiving than I can even understand. I’ve had my brother in the grave for 20 years, but thankfully, God obviously has had different plans.
Tonight, just as the refrain of my newest favorite worship song says, I sing and pray for Joy to God our strength. Lord, I pray she and her family receive strength and peace from you about her brother’s passing. I pray that you take any part of Joy’s brother’s life that is tragic and turn it into something good. I pray that you use this experience in their lives in a greater way than we can imagine, that this does not just become a “fluke” incident in their lives, but that your impact is felt on the family and all the friends as well, through the upcoming weeks. I pray your protection for Joy as she travels to be with her family. And I thank you for the Joy that has come into my life and shown me just a little bit more of you and your amazing ability to affect the lives of so many different and vital people.
I also pray for my brother, Lord. I thank you for your grace in his life and I pray that you open his heart to receiving the forgiveness and grace he is seeking and needs desperately so that he is not a story of tragedy, but of victory.
Thank you, Lord.
Monday, September 26, 2005
Freedom
We talked about Galatians 5 today. When I read it, I was struck by verses 2, 3 and 4. "Listen! I, Paul, tell you this: If you are counting on circumcision to make you right with God, then Christ will be of no benefit to you. I'll say it again. If you are trying to find favor with God by being circumcised, you must obey every regulation in the whole law of Moses. For if you are trying to make yourselves right with God by keeping the law, you have been cut off from Christ! You have fallen away from God's grace."
You know, I find it so very appealing and attractive that Jesus Christ transforms from within a person. That, if we allow him to work in us, something happens in our heart, mind, body, everything, and results in an amazing change in a person, with new desires and a new purpose. I am not claiming to understand it and I can not even experience it to the extent I would like to. But I've had a taste of the freedom that Jesus Christ paid for, and a taste of the freedom that living with the Holy Spirit within brings. And there is nothing on this earth or anywhere else that I would like more than to experience this in a 24/7 sense -- know what I mean?
I pray for this tonight.
I fall into the trap often of thinking that things I do will gain me entry (or deny me access) to heaven and the presence of God himself. Nothing I do even has an impact -- it is the state of my heart at all times that counts.
Interesting.
You know, I find it so very appealing and attractive that Jesus Christ transforms from within a person. That, if we allow him to work in us, something happens in our heart, mind, body, everything, and results in an amazing change in a person, with new desires and a new purpose. I am not claiming to understand it and I can not even experience it to the extent I would like to. But I've had a taste of the freedom that Jesus Christ paid for, and a taste of the freedom that living with the Holy Spirit within brings. And there is nothing on this earth or anywhere else that I would like more than to experience this in a 24/7 sense -- know what I mean?
I pray for this tonight.
I fall into the trap often of thinking that things I do will gain me entry (or deny me access) to heaven and the presence of God himself. Nothing I do even has an impact -- it is the state of my heart at all times that counts.
Interesting.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
The Eggplant
“Though I have scattered them like seeds among the nations, still they will remember me in distant lands. With their children, they will survive and come home again to Israel.” Zechariah 10:9 (NLT)
The Eggplant
Happy 50th Birthday, Jocelyn!
I’ve decided to give you this little garden stake that my Aunt Carol and Uncle Frannie made several years ago when they were making craft items for local markets. As they no longer make these little gems, you may consider this a “Limited Edition” – just like you yourself are! The similarities are just beginning to emerge.
Did you know that the eggplant is one of the least widely appreciated vegetables in the Western World? – just like you, except you are not a vegetable! (see where the “similarities” thing is going?) Actually, the eggplant is a member of the Deadly Nightshade family and is closely related to the tomato, potato and the pepper. (Hello, “Bob the Tomato!!” – make the connection – hint: husband. This is eerie, isn’t it??)
The popularity of both the tomato and the eggplant was stifled until recently. The tomato was actually believed to be poisonous – but we all know now, that it is actually a cancer preventer! The eggplant, on the other hand, was believed by superstitious Europeans to induce insanity and had the unaffectionate nickname of “Mad Apple” until a few centuries ago. I know you see the similarity, as people are “crazy over you”. J
Anyway, back in its native region of southeast Asia, there was no superstition going on – they were just munching on the eggplants in advance of everyone else. From India and Pakistan it spread to China in about 500 B.C., then into the Middle East. Arabic records of eggplant exist from the 9th, 10th, and 12th centuries, and the Turks are believed to have over 1,000 native recipes calling for eggplant. It is very popular – just like you!
The Moors introduced the eggplant to Spain in the 4th through 7th centuries and by the 16th century, the Spaniards had classified the eggplant as a powerful aphrodisiac and its most affectionate nickname was “Apple of Love”. (Aha, now we are getting somewhere, aren’t we?) Well, unfortunately, the northern Europeans were still convinced that consuming eggplant would induce insanity. [You know those northern Europeans just love to beat an old horse to death!] But many wouldn’t listen to that nonsense and word got out about the tasty eggplant.
The English coined the name “eggplant” and then began referring to them as “Aubergine” [I think the snooty English linguists just liked the sound of Aubergine better, don’t you?] But it was the Spanish who introduced the delicious eggplant to the Americas (Brazil) around 1650. The United States, no doubt concerned about “mad eggplant disease”, would not let them in until 1806, when Thomas Jefferson finally opened up the border. However, it was grown primarily as an ornamental plant until about 50 years ago (notice the significant timing here – “50 years ago”), when its delicious flavour was finally acknowledged widely – just like you!
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, a nursery man named John Baptist (come on, now – this is freaky) had obtained some eggplant seeds from a friend who had spent some time in India and introduced the veggie to Australia in 1850, though it did not become popular until the 1950s. So, even the eggplant is a “God thing” – just like you!
The eggplant comes in a wide array of shapes, sizes, and colours, which makes them an outstanding edible landscape plant. [You thought I was going to say, “just like you!” didn’t you?] So, the eggplant serves many purposes and is both decorative and delicious – just like you!
Jocelyn, I pray that throughout time, people find themselves “crazy in love with the eggplant” – just like me!
Love,
Kathy
The Eggplant
Happy 50th Birthday, Jocelyn!
I’ve decided to give you this little garden stake that my Aunt Carol and Uncle Frannie made several years ago when they were making craft items for local markets. As they no longer make these little gems, you may consider this a “Limited Edition” – just like you yourself are! The similarities are just beginning to emerge.
Did you know that the eggplant is one of the least widely appreciated vegetables in the Western World? – just like you, except you are not a vegetable! (see where the “similarities” thing is going?) Actually, the eggplant is a member of the Deadly Nightshade family and is closely related to the tomato, potato and the pepper. (Hello, “Bob the Tomato!!” – make the connection – hint: husband. This is eerie, isn’t it??)
The popularity of both the tomato and the eggplant was stifled until recently. The tomato was actually believed to be poisonous – but we all know now, that it is actually a cancer preventer! The eggplant, on the other hand, was believed by superstitious Europeans to induce insanity and had the unaffectionate nickname of “Mad Apple” until a few centuries ago. I know you see the similarity, as people are “crazy over you”. J
Anyway, back in its native region of southeast Asia, there was no superstition going on – they were just munching on the eggplants in advance of everyone else. From India and Pakistan it spread to China in about 500 B.C., then into the Middle East. Arabic records of eggplant exist from the 9th, 10th, and 12th centuries, and the Turks are believed to have over 1,000 native recipes calling for eggplant. It is very popular – just like you!
The Moors introduced the eggplant to Spain in the 4th through 7th centuries and by the 16th century, the Spaniards had classified the eggplant as a powerful aphrodisiac and its most affectionate nickname was “Apple of Love”. (Aha, now we are getting somewhere, aren’t we?) Well, unfortunately, the northern Europeans were still convinced that consuming eggplant would induce insanity. [You know those northern Europeans just love to beat an old horse to death!] But many wouldn’t listen to that nonsense and word got out about the tasty eggplant.
The English coined the name “eggplant” and then began referring to them as “Aubergine” [I think the snooty English linguists just liked the sound of Aubergine better, don’t you?] But it was the Spanish who introduced the delicious eggplant to the Americas (Brazil) around 1650. The United States, no doubt concerned about “mad eggplant disease”, would not let them in until 1806, when Thomas Jefferson finally opened up the border. However, it was grown primarily as an ornamental plant until about 50 years ago (notice the significant timing here – “50 years ago”), when its delicious flavour was finally acknowledged widely – just like you!
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, a nursery man named John Baptist (come on, now – this is freaky) had obtained some eggplant seeds from a friend who had spent some time in India and introduced the veggie to Australia in 1850, though it did not become popular until the 1950s. So, even the eggplant is a “God thing” – just like you!
The eggplant comes in a wide array of shapes, sizes, and colours, which makes them an outstanding edible landscape plant. [You thought I was going to say, “just like you!” didn’t you?] So, the eggplant serves many purposes and is both decorative and delicious – just like you!
Jocelyn, I pray that throughout time, people find themselves “crazy in love with the eggplant” – just like me!
Love,
Kathy
Monday, August 29, 2005
Planting In Tears
This morning, I optimistically took a step toward getting into good physical condition once again by actually putting my workout clothes in the car. However, just as usual, I did not make it to any gym.
But I called Linda, my friend who works at Grant MacEwan's Wellness Centre, to see if I could try out the facility (this is only about the 10th time I've called her -- hey, I've been working up to this, you know!). However, she was on a well-deserved holiday to catch her breath before the hectic fall season begins.
I called Jocelyn, my friend who runs when her back feels good, and jokingly told her about my great big step forward this morning. But, when I hung up with her, it seemed not funny anymore. Well, not very funny that is.
I had such good intentions coming up here last year -- somehow my plan was to go to school full-time, volunteer at the church, get in massively good shape, practice the flute and piano, help organize a conference, participate in the Singing Christmas Tree, read, pray, journal, and develop a social life. And so I was quite exhilirated but tired, just thinking about these things!
As usual, the first thing to go was the objective to "get in massively good shape". What is it that is so hard about this one objective (not that I succeeded in all the others -- but I tried)? Anyway, the socializing and church activity resulted in a bit too much caloric intake and far too little output!
So, though I've tried this past year and failed, I am now trying again with an eye toward success. After I talked to Jocelyn earlier tonight, I assessed the workout room where I am housesitting right now and decided it was time to actually utilize it. And so we begin again. I decided to ease into it, put a CD on (Traveler -- funky world club music -- nice for dancing and working out!), and climbed on the treadmill.
Thirty minutes later I climbed down, having jogged 7 minutes out of the 30. I had worked up quite a sweat, so I decided that was enough cardio for day 1!
And then I stretched for another approximately 20 minutes -- gluts, quads, hams, calves (2 reps of 30 on each leg). Followed by just a wee bit of abs work on the exercise ball -- oh, memories of similar pains came back to me so easily!
Anyway, I wondered if this time I would stick with it and what would help me do so or enable me to do so.... habits are soooo hard to break, aren't they?
So, I sought inspiration in my bible, and found it in Psalm 126, verses 5 and 6: "Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy. They weep as they go to plant their seed, but they sing as they return with the harvest." The tears will be flowing as the pain of once again getting this body into working shape hits, but I know God will reward the work done on his gift to me -- my body.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
What If?
"What if the Lord had not been on our
side?
Let all Israel repeat.
What if the Lord had not been on our
side
when people attacked us?
They would have swallowed us alive
in their burning anger.
The waters would have engulfed us;
a torrent would have overwhelmed us.
Yes, the raging waters of their fury
would have overwhelmed our very lives.
Praise the Lord,
who did not let their teeth tear us apart!
We escaped like a bird from a hunter's trap.
The trap is broken, and we are free!
Our help is from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth."
Psalm 124, New Living Translation
What If?
I don't know about you, but I play "what if?" games all the time. I make a decision, don't get the results I expect or want, and then ask "what if I had done something differently?" or "what if so-and-so would have just got on board?" or "what if I had never done it at all?" and so on and so on and so on.
My past is littered with "what ifs". What if I had completed my degree when all of my friends did instead of 20 years later? What if I had actually listened to advice I was given years ago about my finances? What if I had never smoked? What if I had focused more time developing relationships instead of expending my energy in work, work, working? What if I had really pursued the talents I had in music, in writing, etc., instead of pursuing what I thought would bring in the most money? What if I had spent my time living today instead of worrying endlessly about tomorrow?
These kinds of thoughts have eaten me up over the years. Literally, eaten me up. And my perspective rarely changed. That is, I always looked at myself as a negative outcome of these "what if" questions. In other words, my thoughts went something like this: "If I had completed my degree when all of my friends did, I would be better off today. If I had listened to advice about finances years ago, I would be better off today. If I had never smoked, I would be able to run better today. If I had focused more time developing relationships, I might actually have a family now." Etc. I'm sure you get the idea.
I was well beyond 40 years of age when it occurred to me that it was possible that my circumstances were actually better because of the "what ifs" . The thought process was: "If I had completed my degree when all of my friends did, I might have gone into the totally wrong field, been stuck in a different dead-end job and been unhappier. If I had listened to advice about finances years ago, I could have actually had an even worse situation! If I had never smoked, I might never have been able to relate to people who struggle to give it up as I did." Etc.
I think of some of the tough situations I've been in over the past couple of years, and am grateful to the Lord for being on my side. There were times people would have swallowed me alive, or my circumstances would have engulfed me completely. And tonight I thank the Lord for protecting me and for being there in all of my circumstances -- for soothing me, encouraging me, empowering me, etc. I know that things are not always as they seem. Life can throw some curve balls my way, but Jesus himself has caught them already. All I have to do is say "Thank You" and get up, dust off and move on.
What if I didn't know Jesus?
www.ccci.org/wij/
side?
Let all Israel repeat.
What if the Lord had not been on our
side
when people attacked us?
They would have swallowed us alive
in their burning anger.
The waters would have engulfed us;
a torrent would have overwhelmed us.
Yes, the raging waters of their fury
would have overwhelmed our very lives.
Praise the Lord,
who did not let their teeth tear us apart!
We escaped like a bird from a hunter's trap.
The trap is broken, and we are free!
Our help is from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth."
Psalm 124, New Living Translation
What If?
I don't know about you, but I play "what if?" games all the time. I make a decision, don't get the results I expect or want, and then ask "what if I had done something differently?" or "what if so-and-so would have just got on board?" or "what if I had never done it at all?" and so on and so on and so on.
My past is littered with "what ifs". What if I had completed my degree when all of my friends did instead of 20 years later? What if I had actually listened to advice I was given years ago about my finances? What if I had never smoked? What if I had focused more time developing relationships instead of expending my energy in work, work, working? What if I had really pursued the talents I had in music, in writing, etc., instead of pursuing what I thought would bring in the most money? What if I had spent my time living today instead of worrying endlessly about tomorrow?
These kinds of thoughts have eaten me up over the years. Literally, eaten me up. And my perspective rarely changed. That is, I always looked at myself as a negative outcome of these "what if" questions. In other words, my thoughts went something like this: "If I had completed my degree when all of my friends did, I would be better off today. If I had listened to advice about finances years ago, I would be better off today. If I had never smoked, I would be able to run better today. If I had focused more time developing relationships, I might actually have a family now." Etc. I'm sure you get the idea.
I was well beyond 40 years of age when it occurred to me that it was possible that my circumstances were actually better because of the "what ifs" . The thought process was: "If I had completed my degree when all of my friends did, I might have gone into the totally wrong field, been stuck in a different dead-end job and been unhappier. If I had listened to advice about finances years ago, I could have actually had an even worse situation! If I had never smoked, I might never have been able to relate to people who struggle to give it up as I did." Etc.
I think of some of the tough situations I've been in over the past couple of years, and am grateful to the Lord for being on my side. There were times people would have swallowed me alive, or my circumstances would have engulfed me completely. And tonight I thank the Lord for protecting me and for being there in all of my circumstances -- for soothing me, encouraging me, empowering me, etc. I know that things are not always as they seem. Life can throw some curve balls my way, but Jesus himself has caught them already. All I have to do is say "Thank You" and get up, dust off and move on.
What if I didn't know Jesus?
www.ccci.org/wij/
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Revelation
So, our summer series on Revelation culminated tonight! Mike Voll gave an excellent presentation tonight that kind of wrapped everything up that we studied over the summer. The series was an exploration into the seven letters to the seven churches in the Revelation of Jesus Christ to John, and included books 1 through 5. Tonight was Revelation 4 and 5.
The night began with a listen to Johnny Cash read books 4 and 5. I never heard him speak so clearly and with such excellent enunciation. His voice was beautiful for reading.
These two books are fairly difficult for me. There is a lot of imagery to handle and to explore the meaning of. Mike did an excellent job of helping us see the meaning.
There are two distinct areas of my faith and life that were touched upon tonight. One area is the area of perspective or what I would call the intellectual me. In this area, I was reminded that "things are not as they seem." The meaning of things in my life is formed by my frame of reference. This can be very hard to remember. Also in this area, I was reminded that "the way to fullness is the way of the Lamb." The intellectual me knows these things and understands the perspective. The other me -- I guess you would say the fleshy me -- is having a hard time with these concepts. Note to self: Ask God for perspective in the flesh.
The other area is my image of God. Tonight he was called "eternally contemporary" and constant or unchanging. I love that. Around the throne -- EVERYTHING and EVERYONE is worshipping God. EVERYTHING. Beasts and all! And, He sits already victorious on the throne. He already suffered and conquered all -- sin, evil, temptation, Satan, death -- there is nothing He did not already suffer and conquer because of us, for us and instead of us. ALL I HAVE TO DO IS ACCEPT IT!
The night began with a listen to Johnny Cash read books 4 and 5. I never heard him speak so clearly and with such excellent enunciation. His voice was beautiful for reading.
These two books are fairly difficult for me. There is a lot of imagery to handle and to explore the meaning of. Mike did an excellent job of helping us see the meaning.
There are two distinct areas of my faith and life that were touched upon tonight. One area is the area of perspective or what I would call the intellectual me. In this area, I was reminded that "things are not as they seem." The meaning of things in my life is formed by my frame of reference. This can be very hard to remember. Also in this area, I was reminded that "the way to fullness is the way of the Lamb." The intellectual me knows these things and understands the perspective. The other me -- I guess you would say the fleshy me -- is having a hard time with these concepts. Note to self: Ask God for perspective in the flesh.
The other area is my image of God. Tonight he was called "eternally contemporary" and constant or unchanging. I love that. Around the throne -- EVERYTHING and EVERYONE is worshipping God. EVERYTHING. Beasts and all! And, He sits already victorious on the throne. He already suffered and conquered all -- sin, evil, temptation, Satan, death -- there is nothing He did not already suffer and conquer because of us, for us and instead of us. ALL I HAVE TO DO IS ACCEPT IT!
Monday, August 22, 2005
Paige
I was "exploring" online and ran across a fabulous illustrator -- Paige Pooler is her name. I get a very positive feeling from her drawings and writings and I marvel at how such positive energy comes through in her artwork. Awesome -- check out her blog -- link to the right. Enjoy!
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