Becoming Who I Am

Church

2012-01-22T17:47:00.008-06:00

I awoke this morning to two fine young gentlemen smiling down at me; fully garbed in Sunday attire, breakfast eaten and teeth brushed. "It's Sunday, Mommy! Get up for church!"

Seriously? I can't even answer phone calls right now. How am I supposed to go to church? So far, I've only managed to converse with my parents and my sister. Church? So many people? I don't want to. No, I CAN'T. I can't talk to anybody. I don't want to cry in public. I don't want to look anybody in the eye. I just DON'T WANT TO. But what else could I do?

I jump out of bed with feigned enthusiam, then realize that I'm pushing my limits as I start to get a little tunnel vision and have to lower myself to the floor for a moment to regain my bearings. It looks like we're going to church....

And so we did.

Jimmy was working and I just couldn't bear the thought of sitting alone after the boys go to kids' church, so I call my friend to ask if I can sit with her in church. (Sounds a little jeuvenile, you may think... But WHATEVER. Sometimes you just need someone beside you to help you feel a little more grounded and safe.) She and her family had other plans for the day, but they changed them and came to church and sat with me. ((((((HUGS TO YOU, MY DEAR FRIENDS)))))) I know, there are so many of you who would gladly have sat with me, and I am grateful to be surrounded by so many caring people. But I just needed to know "the plan" before I got there, ya know? So I cried through most of it and heard very little of the sermon since I was in my own little world, but felt very much comforted by the presence of my church family and the presence of the Comforter Himself. I am grateful for hugs, for gentle, compassionate words, for your prayers, and for those who told me their stories too. I'm glad God helped me put a voice to some of the turbulent emotions and memories and internal battles I am fighting and that He provided compassionate ears to hear them. I'm glad I went.

Thank you, Silas and Caleb, for dragging me to church today.

See you in heaven, Judah

2012-01-18T14:08:00.001-06:00

My baby died a couple of days ago. It was a boy. His name was Judah. We knew our next boy was going to be "Judah" for the last four years. It stands for going ahead of the battle with a song of praise. I know that is what God wants me to do now. I'm not so far, to be honest. I was almost three months along. He was so tiny and so perfect. I picked him up and made a little blankie and wrapped him up. I held him until the doctor at the hospital took him away. His hands were this big: O, with perfect fingers. He had all his fingers and toes, and he was so perfect. Every time I close my eyes, he is all I can see. But I don't feel anything, I haven't cried, I haven't felt anything at all. Well, I cried for a minute when I wrote my Facebook status. And my eyes filled up today when I found that a little pillow one of my boys had made last month for his unborn sibling had been moved from its place. I gave my boy a hug and said, "Do you want to save this pillow in case we have another baby?" He looked at the floor and shook his head no. I asked "Do you want to keep this pillow as a memory of your little brother?" He started crying and nodded yes. So I gave him a big hug, then put the little pillow by his pillow on his bed. I want to help my boys grieve, and I want to be there for them, but I feel so empty myself. I still feel like I'm in shock or something. It happened three days ago. Today, I have been re-organizing my house, and putting our newly-acquired baby stuff way under the stairs for long-term storage. I'm going to finish painting our house (which I had to stop when I found out I was pregnant) and I'm going to clean. I don't know what else to do.

The Light Around the Corner

2011-05-09T19:42:00.001-05:00

It is one thing not to see the light at the end of the tunnel. It is another thing to not believe it is there at all. That is where I have been at. Thus the silent blog. Not only was the light not visible, I had lost the perspective that this light even existed. Vast black expanse... perhaps like the darkness before the world was created. It is no coincidence that God created light before anything else. Without light, there is no colour. Without colour, there is no life. Pure darkness consumes and sucks all semblance of life and breath.

To be honest, I still cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel. But I have come to realize that this journey has a lot of twists and turns. Maybe the tunnel has a curve in it that is preventing me from seeing my destination. A couple of days ago I was reminded that I carry a Light. I need to turn it on. It is the Word of God. It only shines as far as my next step but believe me, after wandering and bumping around in the darkness, one short beam of light shines brightly!

So, how do I know there is a light at the end of the tunnel? At this point, it doesn't matter. What matters is that I keep going for another day. What if I quit just one day too soon? So, in God's strength, holding on to Him for dear life knowing that He is holding me even tighter, I will persevere. Keep me going, Lord, keep me going. Just one more day... I can always go just one more day.

Quarters

2011-01-21T14:00:00.001-06:00

My eyes watering from the putrid stench that filled my nostrils, I tried to find a spot clean enough to take the next step. What have I done, bringing my children to this place? Oh God!  I gripped my boys' hands tighter, trying to protect them from the sights and smells that were beating on our senses, until one of them cried out that I was hurting him. "I'm so sorry, sweetie, I'm so sorry. We just need to get out of here!"

We were in an old warehouse in the worst part of the worst part of town. I had never seen anything like this in my life. This is where the shunned, the sick and the incapable congregated to live out their final days in misery and desolation. The place was covered with trash and excrement. Most of the people living here were not even well enough to sit up and they lay in their own mess, crying out for help to any unfortunate person who happened to stumble upon this mass of decaying humanity.

I need to do something! These people need my help! What can I do? What can I do?

I reached into my pocket and pulled out some money. I began to hand out quarters, loonies and cash to those we passed.  The Lord began to tug at my heart. This was not right. I was to help them, not appease my conscience by dishing out money to people who could not even get up to spend it! What good is a quarter in the hands of a dying man? But I ditched that thought and slowly continued my journey through the maze of mess that surrounded me.

Suddenly a man's hand reached out from under a fallen garbage bin and grabbed my youngest son's leg. His whole body was a mass of oozing, bloody sores and I screamed at the man as we began a tug-of-war over my son's body. "Let him go!!! Let him go!!!"  My health, strength and fearful adrenaline won out, and the man released his grip. "We need to get out of here! Are you O.K.?" I looked down at my son, and his eyes were spilling over and his lips were quivering. "I'm so sorry. That was terrifying, wasn't it?" I hugged and reassured him. "No, Mommy. He needs our help! We need to help him. We can't leave him there!"

"Son, that is so sweet that you want to help him. Here, throw him a quarter and let's get out of here." I handed my son a quarter and my heart lurched within me. My conscience nagged incessantly and my heart dropped when my son looked up at me with tear-brimmed eyes and said, "But Mommy, he needs love."

"Give him the quarter and we are out of here. That's all the love I've got to give today."

In grief, my little boy handed the man the quarter and turned anguished eyes to me. "But please, Mommy, he needs love!"

"Noooo!" In a panic, I did not even wait for my children, but took off running. As I ran, Jesus' words tumbled around in my head. What you did for the least of these, you did for Me... Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy... You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot... Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you... So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you... So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you... "Daughter, you need to obey. You need to walk in obedience and love and stop your self-absorbed gratification of the flesh." I ran faster, trying in vain to run from my own conscience.

As I fled, I stumbled over a garbage can and fell to one knee, badly scraping it. I sat down for a moment, mumbling to myself about germs, infection and Polysporin. A man walking past threw me a quarter. So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you... So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you...

"No! I am not one of them! No!" As I cried beseechingly, I picked up the quarter to throw it back at him. In horror, I observed my hands. Sores began to form, bleed, then ooze with pus. I tried to shove the garbage can aside, but found that I was too weak. "Oh God!  No! No! No..." And I collapsed in the rubble.

God, I know You sent this dream as a wake-up call. Help me to obey. Help me to love.

Uranus Through the Eyes of an 8 Year Old

2010-12-22T18:37:00.006-06:00

This was an actual conversation in our van on the way home from Melfort the other day:

(Jimmy is my husband and Caleb is my 8 year old son.)

Jimmy: Can you tell me something about the planet Venus?

Caleb: I do believe it's related to Uranus. (snorrrt... giggle)

Jimmy: Ahem, I mean, what is the planet made up of?

Caleb: (snorrrrt... hahahah...) I don't know, but I know that Uranus is surrounded by methane! (Ahahah!!!)

Jimmy (stifling a giggle of his own): Did you know that the planet Venus has a hole with lava flowing out of it?

Caleb (With as straight a face as possible): If Uranus had something flowing out of it, it wouldn't be lava...

OH FOR PETE'S SAKE!!!

I have to admit, I am impressed with my 8 year old's quick thinking skills, but seriously...

Christmas All Year Through

2010-12-17T12:56:00.003-06:00

This time of year we think about

Christmas carols and Christmas trees,

And gifts and stockings and pumpkin pie,

Mashed potatoes and big turkeys.

We even think of baby Jesus

Lying in the hay,

With angels singing and cattle lowing

On that first Christmas day.

But when the day is done and the tree comes down

When we're full and our new toys break...

Will we remember Jesus

And the sacrifice He did make?

Jesus didn't stay a baby -

He gave His life for you.

And if you'll give your life to Him

He'll stay with you all year through.

I wrote this poem for my kids to read tonight at the Lost River Community Christmas Dinner and Talent Show. I had looked for a Christmas poem for them to read, and couldn't find one I liked, so I figured I'd write my own!

Unravelling

2010-12-11T18:23:00.000-06:00

Maybe once I finish unravelling completely God will knit me back together better than I was in the first place. A new, improved Me. How long does this take exactly?

Gardening, Perfectionism and Excuses

2010-12-04T12:56:00.005-06:00

I am an anomaly in a family that comes from a long line of gardening perfectionists. So when I moved back home (we share an acreage with my grandparents and my parents are just down the road, with their ever-watchful eyes perusing my yard care), it was a challenge for me to do things "right". I am trying, really I am, but my lack of garden intuition sticks out like a sore thumb. A big, green, sore thumb. Because I do think that green thumb is in there. Somewhere. I enjoy gardening. And in a way, I am even a perfectionist. The problem is that if I can't do it perfect, it bothers me so much that I can't stand it and I tend to just give up altogether. Weeding pretty much drives me crazy. I enjoy the actual physical labour of it, but the fact that it is NEVER EVER DONE drives me totally up the wall. I like jobs that I can look back over my work, pat myself on the back and say "Ahhhh... It's done." Gardening is never done. It has been a real challenge for me to hold my temper at these little thorns in my flesh (or not-so-little, depending on the duration of the neglect). Harumph!!! They seem to taunt me as I look back over my work and all I can see is what I missed... and the acres of work left to be done.

Not only that, I am having a hard time catching the farm lingo and traditions that I thought I grew up with. When I moved here, I thought that a perennial was a body part (and not one that you discuss in public)! Thanks to my wise and informed Grandma, I have now been educated. But I truly had no idea that little plants need so much TLC. Well, not the plants as much as the surrounding dirt. I have considered planting plastic flowers in the perennial garden next year. Then I can just pull them up when the garden needs weeding, till the weeds out with the tiller and then put the plastic flowers back, instead of having to pick or hoe around every single plant. See? I have solutions, but Mom and Grandma would have conniptions. Hahahah!

No. I couldn't do it. Even though these sorts of ideas come to mind, I couldn't possibly carry it through. Maybe I really do have a genetic predisposition for the homesteading way of life. What else could explain the satisfaction I get when I mill all my own flour or the sense of empowerment I feel when I chop my own kindling to heat our house?

Why on earth am I discussing gardening in the middle of winter? I have no idea, other than the fact that I really miss the warmth of summer. But it has caused me to think about the many things in life I have missed out on because of my perfectionism. The essays that I threw together last minute because I didn't want to say I really tried in case I didn't get 100%. (Because 95% was just not good enough if I really tried.) The piano lessons I cried through and then quit because I didn't think I was good enough. Long division, which I have never learned how to do because I wasn't willing to try in case I failed and I refused to ask for help (we had moved, and the new class already knew how to do it). The picture that I started drawing in grade 9 that I worked on for a few months... and then threw out a few days before completion because it wasn't quite good enough. And yes, I can pick up a flute and just play it. But imagine if, over the years, I actually practiced and tried to improve instead of just practicing last-minute for performances I was invited to play in? Maybe I would have excelled, rather than just being "pretty good". Maybe if the emphasis, after my first performance at Caronport wasn't "she's only been playing the flute for two months", maybe then I would have learned that to truly reach the potential that God wants, it is worth the effort to try without fear of failure. (Because I would always say, "I've never really taken lessons and I just saw this music a couple of days ago, so please excuse my mistakes.") Excuses, instead of effort.

I see this same tendency in my kids. To say God wants our best, is true. To say God thinks our best has to be perfect, is not. A lot of things come easy for my boys. So many things, in fact, that if they come across any sort of difficulty they unravel because they have no idea what to do. And I have such a hard time knowing what to say, because I feel it with them. But we need to learn that even if we can't do something perfect the first time, we gotta keep on trying and improving, finding joy in the fact that we are attempting a real challenge. I want them to know that there can be greater satisfaction in working hard for something that doesn't turn out "perfect" than for completing a project to perfection with no effort. And, that its ok not to do things exactly like everybody else does.

I wonder if I have to learn these things before I can teach it to my kids? Or maybe we can work on it together.

Meanwhile, I need to go water my houseplants. I forgot to water them last week. Due to that mistake, I had decided they will probably die and I gave up on them but for some reason they're not dead yet. Maybe this is an opportunity to work on my all or nothing mentality!

Neat little boxes... Or at least they used to be.

2010-11-25T23:01:00.009-06:00

(Just to give fair warning... This post has hardly been edited. I just typed it straight out of my head and threw it on the blog before I had a chance to chicken out!!!)

My life has always been neatly sorted into little boxes, organized on shelves to be opened when convenient and "safe". One box for Hubby and Kids. One box for church. One box for extended family. One box for incessantly smiling and chatting to anyone on the street who crosses my path. One box for each of the many aspects of my past. One box for my health and body. One box for my emotions. Different boxes for various friends. One box for Facebook (hahahah!!). No, really. One box for Facebook. Maybe even another for this sadly forsaken blog. One box for God. No. Not one box for God. He moves freely throughout the boxes in which I have given Him reign. However, there are spaces in my soul that I have managed to stash into well-sealed packages, neatly stored in the deep recesses of my soul on a dusty shelf where even I forget about them sometimes. These are places that God has prodded with gentle nudges, telling me that He would like to shine His light on these hidden things. But they are not so pleasant and, being prone to ostrichness (sticking my head in the sand), I have generally shied away from His hints that these things would be better off opened up and dealt with once and for all. But seriously, the vulnerability of considering such things is unfathomable to me.

And so it has been a rather disconcerting thing, finding myself in the middle of such a mess. The mess being the fact that as of late my boxes have been, spontaneously and of their own accord, exploding. Exploding wide open and then attempting to enmesh themselves with each other. This I find disturbing. Very disturbing. And what I find most shocking is the fact that God seems to be well-pleased with this occurance and appears to be setting up these explosions in increasing measure. What is the plan here? What is the idea, merging my worlds so that I am uncomfortably accountable for more than one compartment at a time? But I guess moving forward, maturing and growing wasn't supposed to be comfortable, was it? This exploding and merging is requiring vulnerability on my part. I don't like that. I tend to run from vulnerability.

Here is an example. Two years ago I ended up with a high fever and landed myself in the hospital. Did I call my family? No. Did I call my friends and ask them to pray? No. I did get up the nerve to call my pastor, but asked him not to tell anyone else. And yes, my Hubby knew! (Duh!) But my boxes -- friends, family, church, and health -- remained intact, separate from each other. I recovered, and although it took about a month to get back to normal, few people knew this happened. I didn't even call home until well after the fact. (Funny thing about me, I don't usually mind telling people things in past tense, such as, "Guess what happened to me last month...")

Well, guess what happened to me last month? No really, something happened and I know it's past tense, but its relatively recent, so consider yourself fortunate to be privvy to such information...

I ended up with a fever and landed myself in the hospital. The thing about this was, my boxes pretty much exploded this time. First of all, let me tell you, being in the hospital is an extremely unnerving and vulnerable experience. If you have ever been admitted to hospital, you will know that they ask you everything. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Not only that, they ask you loudly and both their questions and your whispered answers somehow manage to echo and reverberate down the hallways and into other patients' rooms. (I know this because I heard the echos of other patients being admitted. So, fellow patients... I know all about you and you know all about me. Let's keep these things to ourselves, shall we?!?) Anyways... So, I was rather taken aback by the fact that even my... ummm... digestive system was thoroughly discussed. In fact, the nurses seemed fixated on that particular system, which by day three had me completely disgruntled, as this is not something I am willing to discuss with anybody, let alone complete strangers. (As a side note I asked my Hubby, who happens to be a nurse, if the nurses where he worked are as obsessed with bodily functions. Apparently so, because he gave me a blank stare and said, "Uhhhhh, yeah." I'm thinking he could have given me fair warning before my hospital stay, but unfortunately he has become so desensitized to such things that it didn't even occur to him.) Yeah, anyways. Vulernability. Yes. Very very vulnerable. And then, to make matters worse, some of the hospital staff looked familiar. You can't really escape this fact in a small town. Yet another merging of my worlds. Eeeeeekkk!

So, we went to a new church on Sunday. And guess who was there? People who work at the hospital. One lady approaches me and says, "Hi Stephanie." It took me a moment before I realized who she was. Then I almost fell over! My first thought was, "I think its time to move." My second thought (and you can insert incredulous laughter here) was "At least it wasn't my doctor." But no. God knows my limits. He's not going to push me in this box-exploding thing further than I can handle. Right, God? At the moment, I'm thinking its time for a little break, but I have a sneaking suspicion that there's more coming. So, I'm bracing myself for the next explosion. If I was to be completely honest with myself, I can see God's light starting to peek into those hidden places and maybe there is a point to this. I just don't quite get it yet. Does this post even make sense???

Consistency

2010-10-27T14:05:00.005-05:00

I would like to teach you all about consistency. If you want to have a successful blog, consistency is what it’s all about. No one wants to go to your blog only to discover that you have posted nothing for months. They will stop checking it and give up. Not only that, if you are sporadic and suddenly bombard your readers with five posts a day they will become overwhelmed. This might short circuit their brains and they will never read your blog again because they will be terrified of the overstimulation.

The blog you see here is a typical example of what NOT to do. So please, take a lesson from this atrocious behaviour: Be consistent.

GGGGRRRRRanola

2010-07-09T23:15:00.001-05:00

1. Make homemade granola with only the world's healthiest ingredients. Proudly slave over a hot oven for hours, because your family is worth feeding well.

2. Somehow emotionally attach yourself to this granola. As in, "If they don't like it I will be devastated."

3. They don't like it. Well, its not really the flavour, apparently. It's that the sunflower seeds and pumpkin seeds and WHATEVER else in there is hard to chew. But I think that's a really dumb excuse, because its worth your health. No pain, no gain.

4. Inform family that I will not buy any cinnamon Kashi cereal (everybody's favorite) until they eat the granola.

(Fast forward a week...)

5. Ignore Hubby when he says that he will not be eating it because it is too hard to chew. Tell him that he must be a good example for his children and that we need to do our best to eat healthy. Not only that, he should not hurt his wife's feelings.

6. Hand Hubby a bowl of granola with milk. Ignore his dirty looks and walk away with a look of victory. (Doesn't he know I will be devastated if he doesn't eat it after all that tender loving care I put into making it?!?)

7. Experience incredulous indignation when he says, "This stuff just broke my tooth." (Yeah right... Nice try... You ARE eating that granola.)

8. Look at Hubby's hand, which is holding a good portion of one of his molars, in itty bitty pieces.

9. Run for my life!!!! Or apologize for trying to manipulate him into "liking" something just so I can feel "good" about "doing my best for my family". I chose the latter.

***sigh*** I wish I could say this is fiction. But no, it happened on Tuesday.

Caleb's Bedtime Prayer

2010-06-12T23:17:00.000-05:00

Thank You Lord for this good day. I pray that Daddy will come home from work safely. I pray that Daddy will come home from work early. I pray that Daddy will get a lot of money but he won't have to work as much. I pray that Daddy will get a raise and that he will get more pay checks because we get ice cream each pay day so I pray he will have pay day more often. Lord, You said in the Bible that You like to give good gifts to Your children and that we will have what we ask of You. Ice cream is a good gift and You are the One who created milk and showed people how to make ice cream so it is Your will for us to have ice cream. I pray that Daddy will surprise us by coming home tonight even though he just went to work and that he will bring home ice cream and that Mommy will let us eat it even though its bedtime. Amen.

Dreams: Revisited

2010-06-11T23:20:00.000-05:00

I wrote this same blog post over a year ago, but it was time for me to revisit it, and do a little preaching to myself! I pray that it speaks to someone besides me as well...

Please take the time to watch the following utube video before reading the blog post - start to finish. It is well worth your time!! You will probably have to hit your back button on your browser to get back to the blog.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

I have watched Susan Boyle’s video at least ten times. And I cry every time.

These are some of the lyrics to the song that she sang:

I Dreamed a Dream

There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting

There was a time
Then it all went wrong

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted
But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I’m living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed

This blog post is dedicated to all of us who have had our dreams turned to shame, for all of us who have been visited by “the tigers at night”. For those of us whose dreams were so vivid and bright and possible when we were young… but they somehow disappeared, got lost, were stolen, or were trampled underfoot by the misdeeds of men and the destructive work of the enemy of our souls.

“Life has killed the dream I dreamed.”

My personal experience has shown me that “life” is not always kind. But our lives are not destined to end the way of this song. There is no pain, no wound, no trauma that God cannot restore. It is never too late. What the enemy tried to steal and kill and destroy is the very thing that God wants to heal, restore and make whole. What is that dream? What is that purpose that God created you for?

Susan Boyle’s voice was held captive for 47 years. But when her time came, she shone before millions of people. It is your time to shine. Be brave. Has “life” crushed you? Have your dreams (or maybe even the very essence of who you are) been ripped to pieces? Are the things that should be bringing you joy, bringing shame and reproach instead? Has your heart been broken? It is time to find yourself. It is time to walk past the fears and the prejudices and the past and your circumstances that have held you captive. Isaiah 54:4 says, “Do not be afraid; you will not suffer shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated. You will forget the shame of your youth and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood.” There comes a time that those things that have haunted you need to be put aside. It is time to look forward. It is your turn to shine. Don’t worry what anybody may say. Don’t listen to the jeering, taunting voices around you or within you. It’s time to take your stand.

God is in the business of restoring the impossibly shattered heart, of healing the mortal wound, of curing the incurable. Jeremiah 30:12 and 13 says, “This is what the Lord says: Your wound is incurable, your injury beyond healing. There is no one to plead your cause, no remedy for your sore, no healing for you. Why do you cry out over your wound, your pain that has no cure?” Two verses later, in Jeremiah 30:17, the Lord says, “But I will restore you to health and heal your wounds!” What is impossible for man is God’s specialty. So, dust off that dream and pull it out of the deep recesses of your inner closet. Put your life and your dreams into the hands of your Heavenly Father, the One who created you and put those dreams in you before you were even conceived. This is your day. When asked what advice she would give to those who want to pursue their dream, Susan Boyle said, “Just do it.” Yeah. Just do it. And then sit back and see what the Lord will do through you. No one was laughing after Ms. Boyle sang her first note. Take your stand. Just do it. God will showcase you for the sake of His Name.

Restoration

2010-05-31T22:01:00.000-05:00

I longed with all my heart to see His face,

To taste of His mercy and experience His grace.

I asked and invited and pleaded the same,

And prayed for His presence to surround me again.

But great waves of doubt flooded into my heart -

It was me! I'm to blame that we'd grown apart.

I'm not good enough, I'm too full of sin.

Could He possibly want me to come back again?

I began to tremble as I felt Him draw near.

He said, "I love you My child; You've no reason to fear".

"I can't look at You, Lord - what I've done is too bad;

I've hurt You so much and I've made You so sad".

He took a step closer and said, "Look into My eyes.

Don't listen to Satan. You know he tells lies."

My eyes slowly lifted towards His loving face;

Then I ran to Him, overcome by His forgiveness and grace.

What A Wife!

2010-05-21T15:20:00.013-05:00

As diligent wives always are, I was busy in the kitchen, tidying up and doing some preparations for the next meal when my husband wandered in. Well, he actually stumbled in, eyes mostly closed, looking like he had been awakened from deep slumber. Because that's exactly what he had been doing. No, he's not a lazy guy. It was 4:15 in the morning! What the heck was I doing cleaning the kitchen in the middle of the night, you may wonder? Unfortunately, insomnia is a regular thing for me, so I have learned that time is better spent being productive than laying around in bed looking at the clock every ten minutes.

Jimmy never wakes up, not even when I holler "ICE CREAM!!!" in his ear. And ice cream is his vice. So I was a bit startled and admittedly nervous at having awakened the hard-working man who had a 12 hour shift waiting for him in the morning. But alas, I did not need to worry because my man is the kind of guy every woman wishes for. Once he was coherent, he gave me a big hug and said, "I see you are becoming quite the Proverbs 31 woman!" I gave him an extremely inquisitive and somewhat suspicious look. He can't be blessing me at 4:15 in the morning, can he? I braced myself for scathing sarcasm, which did not come. He continued, "You're getting up while it is still dark! What a woman!" I felt very very good about myself until I realized that later in the afternoon when I should be selling purple linens in the marketplace, I would be having a very long nap!

This leads me to the whole Proverbs 31 thing. Every time I read that chapter I feel nothing but distain for that woman to whom the rest of womanity pales in comparison. Well, I don't measure up anyway. Is there any other woman out there who is like a merchant ship, bringing food from afar? Does buying from the local farmer's market count?? I hope so. Do all of you really get up while it is still dark? (And stay up for the rest of the day?) I have never personally bought a field or planted a vineyard out of my earnings. (Earnings??) And although my arms are probably stronger than a lot of other women, I can't say that I always use them for working vigorously. Seriously, I'm really too tired to get a bunch of work done after going to the gym... Our muscles need rest to rebuild, right? OH! I got one right! I bought my boys RED jackets this winter, and therefore I have no fear for my household when it snows! ('Cause they're clothed in scarlet! Yay!)

But this woman has seriously set the bar so high that even the thought of living up to her standards causes my brain to short circuit. How can she do SO MUCH? How can she buy fields, plant vineyards, make linen garments, sell them, supply merchants with sashes, all the while being clothed with dignity and laughing at the days to come? I can only imagine my boys arising each morning and saying, "Hello, bless-ed Mother". And when my husband praises me, I never quite feel like I deserve it.

I'm sure you are all thinking at this point that I have some wise words and encouragement about how we all are like this Proverbs 31 woman in our own special way. Hmmmmmmmm. Nope. I actually feel disgruntled at both this woman who has us all looking like lazy bums, as well as the guy who wrote about her.

But this guy (King Lemuel, if you are into details) said in his introduction, "A wife of noble character who can find?" Maybe this is a fictional character! Maybe he couldn't find a wife like that (and we all know that those Old Testament guys tried out a lot of wives). Maybe she just doesn't exist. That is the first comforting thought I have had in this whole rant. Maybe we really don't have to try so hard to live up to what some guy thought would be the perfect wife. I'm not saying there are no lessons to be learned in Proverbs 31. I'm just saying that maybe we shouldn't try to compare ourselves to someone who probably never existed, and we probably shouldn't beat ourselves up for not being good enough when the fact is that condemnation is not what God wants us to feel when we read His Word. Maybe I should just trust that God is working on me and try to do my best without trying to be perfect... 'cause I'm not anyways and it just stresses me out.

Effort

2010-05-11T14:33:00.000-05:00

Hmmmm.... It's beginning to be evident that if I want to move forward in my life I might actually need to TRY. Bummer. I was really hoping to effortlessly float with the tide, but it looks like the tide is flowing the wrong direction. It might be time to paddle. Or even try to leap upstream like the salmon do. Ok God... It looks like I need some help with this. (Yes. I know I needed help before, but I have finally gotten around to acknowledging it!)

I believe it was Ann Landers who said, "Opportunity is usually disguised as hard work, so most people don't recognize it." It looks like I'm gonna have to get busy.

Giving Freely??

2010-05-08T11:07:00.002-05:00

Today, I overheard my kids playing...

Caleb: "Thank you SO much Silas! How can I ever repay you???"
Silas: "Oh, don't worry... you can repay me."
Caleb: "Can I give you a hug?"
Silas: "No, it will take a lot more than that."

The Bible says, "Freely you have received... Freely give." That is sometimes easier said than done. In fact, a lady by the name of Comtesse Diane once said, "We often make people pay dearly for what we think we give them." So true.

When the boys were playing, I also overheard, "Hey! Come back with my body parts!" But I have no idea what that was about.

Rain Rain Go Away!

2010-05-06T14:43:00.003-05:00

This spring, on the very same day that my parents set up a new trampoline for my boys, it started to rain. And rain. And rain. It rained for over a week and the temperature was hardly above freezing. Not exactly trampoline weather. My kiddos spent a lot of time staring morosely out the window at the trampoline and wishing away the sogginess. We woke up on yet another wet morning, looked out the window and then headed to the breakfast table. I suggested that we pray that it stops raining... and we did. Silas and Caleb couldn't wait to look out the window in anticipation of God's answered prayer and as soon as breakfast was over, they ran to the window to check.

"God answered!", Caleb shouted in wonder and amazement.

"Yeah. It's SNOWING", Silas retorted.

Remember to pray specifically! Specific prayers bring specific answers!

Change

2010-05-03T17:01:00.002-05:00

Psalm 13
How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and every day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?

Look on me and answer, O Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
my enemy will say, "I have overcome ~her~"
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing to the Lord,
for HE HAS BEEN GOOD TO ME.

Isaiah 43:18
Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

Do you believe in change? I do.
And just because it hasn't happened yet, doesn't mean it won't.
I have hope.

Caleb's Kitties

2009-11-26T14:10:00.001-06:00

Caleb, 7, woke up this morning thrilled to tell me the dream he had just been awoken from: "I had a dream that I got two little kitty eggs, and they were going to hatch. But one of them hatched where it was too cold, and so it became a stuffed animal. It was the cutest stuffed animal! The other hatched where it was warm, so it became a real kitty. It was so fluffy and soft! So I was lucky to get a cute stuffy AND a real kitty!!!" After hearing his dream, I thought I better clarify one point, so I asked him, "Do you know that kittens don't come from eggs?" Caleb's response was, "Everyone knows that mammals give birth to live young, but I still wish my dream would come true!"

Enter The Sanctuary

2009-11-18T11:18:00.007-06:00

Have you ever grumbled or complained about the apparent success of the ungodly? Have you felt jealous of the wealth, the power and the prestige they display? Have you wondered how it can be that some people have gained their wealth in a corrupt manner and selfishly hoard it while so many people are living in poverty and desperate need?

You are not the only one who has contemplated these questions. A man named Asaph pondered these matters in Psalm 73. “I envied the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. They have no struggles; their bodies are healthy and strong. They are free from the burdens common to man; they are not plagued by human ills… This is what the wicked are like – always carefree, they increase in wealth” (Ps. 73:3, 4-5, 12). Asaph even questioned the benefits of maintaining his integrity and he lamented, “When I tried to understand all this, it was oppressive to me” (Ps. 73:16). But then, Asaph did the right thing! “I entered the sanctuary of God; then I understood their final destiny” (Ps. 73:17).

It is only in the presence of God that we find peace of mind and gain divine understanding.

If you find yourself questioning things as Asaph did, it is probably a sign that you need to take more time out of your day to pray, meditate on God’s Word and listen to His voice. Then you can rest assured that the prosperity of the wicked will come to an end and you will say unto the Lord as Asaph did, “Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Those who are far from you will perish; you destroy all who are unfaithful to you. But as for me, it is good to be near God. I have made the Sovereign Lord my refuge; I will tell of all your deeds” (Ps. 73:23-28).

Take time daily to “enter the sanctuary of God”!

Affliction in the Life of the Christian: Causes, Implications and the Cure

2009-11-13T19:18:00.002-06:00

Affliction is defined as “something that causes persistent pain, distress, great suffering or ill health”, according to Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary. Some synonyms to affliction are hardship, adversity, misery, torment and tribulation. Because a person’s understanding of the causes and source of affliction determine the course of action taken to deal with it, it is essential to Biblically evaluate and prayerfully consider the cause of affliction in a believer’s life. Affliction’s relation to sin, effects/symptoms of affliction, the purpose of affliction as well as its cure will be examined through looking at both examples of affliction within the life of men of the Bible as well as doing an expository study of what the Bible says about the subject. The goal of the paper is not simply to objectively assess the Biblical view of affliction, but to bring applicable and practical solutions to believers who are seeking reprieve from affliction in their lives.

The Causes of Affliction

God’s Role in Affliction

The Bible tells us in Lamentations 3:32-33 that “Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men.” The Lord does not desire to see us walking in a state of affliction, but rather wants to see us living victoriously in health, healing and wholeness. It grieves God to watch His children go through affliction. In 2 Samuel 24, David committed a sin before the Lord. In verse 14 David says, “I am in deep distress. Let us fall into the hands of the Lord, for his mercy is great; but do not let me fall into the hands of men.” David understood that, although the Lord would afflict and discipline him, it was from a place of love and restoration. When God saw the affliction of the people brought on by David’s sin, verse 16 says, “The Lord was grieved”. God withdrew the affliction when He saw the time was right, and He had compassion on His people.

God cares deeply for those going through distressing circumstances, no matter what the cause is. Psalm 10:14 says, “But you, O God, do see trouble and grief; you consider it to take it in hand. The victim commits himself to you; you are the helper of the fatherless.” Isaiah 54:7-8 says, “For a brief moment I abandoned you, but with deep compassion I will bring you back. In a surge of anger I hid my face from you for a moment, but with everlasting kindness I will have compassion on you.” God’s role in affliction is to restore us. He is not silent, according to Job 36:15, “But those who suffer he delivers in their suffering; he speaks to them in their affliction.” He has not abandoned His child who is going through affliction. His promise is that He will provide a way out, according to Isaiah 30:20-21 which says, “Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction... Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it’.” God is determined to see His afflicted children come to the point of restoration and victory.

Affliction’s Relation to Sin

According to the Bible, affliction is not a sin. However, it is usually the result of sin, and through it, God is calling His children back to Himself. It is meant to be a “wake-up call” for the believer, for the purpose of causing His children to repent, turn from their evil ways and be restored to Him. Affliction and sin go hand-in-hand, which is shown throughout Scriptures. Almost everywhere that affliction is discussed, sin is mentioned as the cause. For example, Psalm 25:16-18 says, “Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted. The troubles of my heart have multiplied; free me from my anguish. Look upon my affliction and my distress and take away all my sins.” Similarly, Psalm 107:17 says, “Some became fools through their rebellious ways and suffered affliction because of their iniquities.” And again, in the list of curses for disobedience to the Lord, verse 28 says, “The Lord will afflict you with madness, blindness and confusion of mind” (Deuteronomy28:28). Solomon acknowledges the relation of affliction to sin in 1 Kings 8:38-39; “And when a prayer or plea is made by any of your people Israel – each one aware of the afflictions of his own heart... then hear from heaven, your dwelling place. Forgive and act; deal with each man according to all he does, since you know his heart.”

It is essential, however, to keep in mind that God’s intent is restoration and He always provides a way out. Job 36:8-9 says, “But if men are bound in chains, held fast by cords of affliction, he tells them what they have done – that they have sinned arrogantly.”

The Effects/Symptoms of Affliction

There are many descriptions of affliction in the Bible. Words such as anguish, failing strength, weakness (Ps. 31:7-10), loneliness, multiplied troubles, distress (Ps. 25:16-18), suffering terrors, despair (Ps. 88:15), frustration and anger (Ecc. 5:17) all describe the experience of one being afflicted. Isaiah 51:20 describes affliction as being drunk, but not from wine. When a person is drunk, they lack clarity, judgment and common sense and do not have an accurate sense of their situation. Other symptoms that can be indicative of affliction is confusion, shame and embarrassment, as described in Job 10:15 where Job laments, “If I am guilty – woe to me! Even if I am innocent, I cannot lift my head, for I am full of shame and drowned in my affliction.” Job seems to be confused about the source of his affliction – but either way, he feels humiliation. Uzziah was also embarrassed when he was afflicted with leprosy after being prideful, unfaithful to God, and angry at the priests. When he became leprous, he was “eager to leave, because the Lord had afflicted him” and hurried away from the priests, who he was trying to angrily exert authority over just moments before (2 Chr. 26:20).

The Purpose of Affliction – Biblical Examples

The purpose of affliction is to move a believer forward, to bring them to repentance and to mature them. The key to coming out of affliction victoriously is to learn from it. Leviticus 21:21 says that if you refuse to listen and learn during afflictions, they will multiply. Isaiah 1:5 asks why a person would persistently remain in rebellion despite their afflictions. It is important to learn and move on from your affliction unless you want it to get worse.

There are good and bad examples of reactions to affliction in the Bible. King Asa relied on man rather than on God to fight his battles and when corrected on this matter, he became enraged rather than repentant. He became an oppressive king and did not live a godly life. As a result, he was afflicted with a severe disease, but again, sought help from men rather than from God and did not repent. He died in his sins (2 Chr. 16). Likewise, King Jehoram, who “did evil in the eyes of the Lord” (2 Chr. 21:6), was inflicted with an incurable and horrendous disease, dying a horrible death in unrepentance.

We must remember that we are never without hope. Although King Jehoram had an “incurable disease”, there is nothing that is incurable for the Lord. Jeremiah 30:12, 13 and 15 says, “This is what the Lord says: Your wound is incurable, your injury beyond healing, There is no one to plead your cause, no remedy for your sore, no healing for you. Why do you cry out over your wound, your pain that has no cure? Because of your great guilt and many sins I have done these things to you.” Two verses later, in Jeremiah 30:17, the Lord says, “But I will restore you to health and heal your wounds”! What is impossible for man is possible for God.

Take, for example, King Hezekiah. He was afflicted with a lethal illness, but when he called to the Lord, he was restored to health, and was delivered from his enemies, as found in Isaiah 38. David was also afflicted, as evidenced by the book of Psalms being the book that speaks most of affliction. But we know that David was confident in the fact that when he repented of his sins, the Lord would restore him fully.

The Cure

The cure for affliction is to accept the work that Jesus did on our behalf. Isaiah 53:4-7 says, “Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.” We need to accept the fact that Jesus carried our afflictions on the cross. There is no need to hang on to them when they have already been fully paid for! Lamentations 3:19-24 is a passage that we can always look to with hope for full restoration: “I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, ‘The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him’”.

Continuous praise and seeking the Lord is a cure for affliction, according to Psalm 34:1-5 which says, “I will extol the Lord at all times; his praise will always be on my lips. My soul will boast in the Lord; let the afflicted hear and rejoice. Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt his name together. I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.” One who is afflicted also needs to stay closely connected with the Word of God. Psalm 119:92 says, “If your law had not been my delight, I would have perished in my affliction.”

I Kings 8:35-36 provides a model for the process of wholeness and healing from affliction. “When the heavens are shut up and there is no rain because your people have sinned against you, and when they pray toward this place and confess your name and turn from their sin because you have afflicted them, then hear from heaven and forgive the sin of your servants, your people Israel. Teach them the right way to live.” We can see that sin brings affliction, and confession brings restoration. It is also important to note that we need to be taught the right way to live, which can come through personal time in prayer and reading the Scriptures, as well as through mentorship from mature believers, God-inspired books, and godly teaching/preaching.

In order to be delivered from affliction, one must remain in prayer. It is essential to cry out to the Lord for deliverance. Psalm 72:4 and 12 tells us that God defends and delivers those who cry out to Him. Similarly, Psalm 9:12 says, “He does not ignore the cry of the afflicted.” Even when we can’t ‘feel’ God’s presence, we need to know that He is still near. Psalm 31:21-22 says, “In my alarm I said, ‘I am cut off from your sight!’ Yet you heard my cry for mercy when I called to you for help.” Psalm 34:18 assures us that, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Conclusion

Our response to affliction determines the outcome. We need to remember that it is God’s desire and delight to see us walking in wholeness, healing and restoration. We also need to have an eternal perspective. “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:17-18).

God loves us and His sole desire is to see us walking in victory. He is our Father, who loves us and says in Isaiah 49:15-16, “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me.” Isaiah 49:13 says, “The Lord comforts and has compassion on his afflicted one.” When we come to an understanding that our God is a compassionate Father who cares deeply, loves intensely and desires the best for us, we can trust Him to restore us no matter how our circumstances appear.

Mr. Hermison

2009-11-08T23:34:00.001-06:00

I am sure you would find it a bit odd too – seeing a wee girl, not much older than three, wandering alone in a meadow of wild flowers. It’s not the kind of scene you see every day, especially when only moments before you were sitting behind your desk in your air-conditioned corner office where you work as an accountant. Linear. Left-brained. Logical.

Nevertheless, that is where Mr. Lloyd Hermison found himself that hot July day. With his index finger, he pushed up his glasses which immediately slid down his excessively sweaty nose. It was truly sweltering hot, and his three-piece suit was not at all appropriate attire for a jaunt in a meadow.

Bewildered and somewhat dazed, Mr. Hermison watched the tot aimlessly meander through the field of brilliant colour. Her long golden hair fluttered freely in the gentle breeze and she wore a gleeful smile. Her grin grew wider and erupted into a giggle when she saw Mr. Hermison. Much to his dismay, she immediately and enthusiastically bounded toward him. Mr. Lloyd Hermison, the fearless suburban accountant, turned on his heels and ran for his life. He could handle a lot of things – but little girls chasing him through mysterious meadows was not one of them. Considering the hot sun overhead and the fact that he had last exercised in 1991, he did not get far before he decided it might be prudent to stop running and face his tiny foe.

He turned around and she was right behind him, offering up a bouquet of daisies. However, when he looked down into her eyes, he reeled back as if he had been slapped, for there was a look of familiarity about her; she looked like him. The little girl smiled and held up the bouquet, saying a single word… “Daddy?”

Mr. Hermison screamed, “No! No! You can’t be! We got an abortion!”

“Mr. Hermison? Mr. Hermison? Are you o.k.?” The secretary’s voice sounded far away. “Mr. Hermison?”

Mr. Lloyd Hermison awoke from his dream with a startle and knocked his coffee over onto his paperwork. A post-it note stuck to his cheek when he lifted his head from the desk.

“Are you okay, Mr. Hermison?” the secretary queried again.

“I… I’m just… I’m okay. But please cancel my appointments today. I need some time to myself. And, ummm… You know what happened between us three years ago? Maybe we should talk about it sometime.”

The secretary’s face softened with empathy. She lowered her voice and said, “Lloyd, I’ve been forgiven. I met Jesus and He has taken away my shame – He forgave me and one day I will see our little one in heaven.”

Mr. Lloyd Hermison cried like a baby. “I saw her today. She’s beautiful.”

Go Up

2009-11-07T22:10:00.004-06:00

I was only one of a multitude of people. You were there too. We all were. We awoke every morning to the sound of the trumpet insisting we begin our work. This morning felt no different. As I wiped the sleep from my eyes, I looked up to the top of the hill. The castle. It seemed to shimmer with light as the sun reflected off of its towers and parapets. Or maybe it wasn't the sun. The castle appeared to have its own light, radiating a white glow that made the sun look a dim shade of yellow. Even the walls around the castle were studded with jewels inlaid in gold. I could only imagine what kind of riches were inside.

As I wiped the sleep from my eyes, I imagined the King on His throne, living in the middle of that opulence. My imagination soared. What if I was of noble birth? What if I was summoned by the King to live in the glorious light of His presence?

Now I was really dreaming. I shook my head to wake myself up. I looked around at the shoddy conditions in which I lived, then stuck my head out of the rickety door of the shack that I called home. Everyone else was already making their way down the path to the fields we worked every day. I shuffled my feet along the dirt floor to the basin to wash my face. There was no need to change my clothes. The rags I wore were the only clothes I had.

As I walked down the dusty path, I watched the multitude of people who walked ahead of me. Every day, we walked down this dusty path. Every day, we toiled to grow food in dusty fields that never produced quite enough, and whose fruit never tasted good. For a moment, I longed for something... something better. Again, I shook my head to clear my thoughts. The fruit didn't taste good? I had never thought of that before. Why should I concern myself with the flavour when I hardly had enough to fill my belly?

I began my work. It was not fulfilling, but then again, it never was. We lived and worked at the bottom of the hill. We were the lowest of the low, and the layout of the city reflected this clearly.

Our city was set on a hill. At the top of the hill was the castle where the King dwelled. I could not possibly describe it. For one thing, I had never been anywhere near it. I could see the spires reaching high into the blue sky, and it always seemed to shimmer with light. I could see the most lush, brilliant green trees around it and vines with fruit growing up to the top of the highest tower. To divide the King's living quarters with the rest of the city, a magnificent wall had been built. There were gates into the King's area, but they could not be opened except by decree of the King. I only knew this to be true, for from where I stood, I could not see those gates.

Below the castle was the hub of the city, where I could only assume the middle class lived and worked. I had never seen this for there was a wall between us and them. This wall was not inlaid with jewels. It was made of large grey bricks. I leaned on the wall, wiping my sweaty brow. Dusty perspiration dripped into my eyes, and I tried to blink away the grit. Sometimes I felt hopeless when I looked at this wall, and today was no exception. Why was I at the bottom of the hill? It seemed unfair. All the people living on the other side of the wall were living in affluence simply because they had been born there. Why was the wall here? It had a gate but it, like the gate to the castle, could only be opened by decree of the King. To my knowledge, it had never been opened. The hinges appeared to be rusted shut and I wondered if it could open at all. There had been rumours as long as I could remember that one day, that gate would open, and...

A trumpet blast interrupted my thoughts. Normally, a trumpet announced the end of the work day, but I could tell from the position of the sun and the lack of hunger in my belly that the day was still young. And it sounded different... louder... clear... it sounded like LIGHT. Once more, the trumpet blasted and then a voice gently, assertively commanded, "Open." A scraping, grating sound filled the air. My heart jumped within me and for a moment I forgot to breathe.

The gate! It was opening!

The sea of people of which you and I were a part paused for a moment. Is this real? Is this really happening? The story we had heard from childhood was not a myth? Is it possible that we might be free?

Then, as if with one movement, we rushed for the gate. It seemed to take forever, yet no time at all. Once we were through, we looked about in silence and awe. The first thing I saw was that there were jewels strewn haphazardly about. Lying on the ground, sitting on tables, hanging from trees; necklaces, rings, bracelets, and silk and satin robes were everywhere. I began to slowly walk toward a tree ornamented with golden necklaces. Then I realized -- there were no other people here!

The only people I could see was the crowd who just came through the gate. Where was everyone? Is it possible there was no one else in this city but us? Were these jewels here for us? Weren't we the lowest of the low? Maybe there was no one better than us after all. Maybe all of humanity was at the bottom of the hill. Maybe we had believed a lie all this time that we were not worthy... that there must be others better than us who deserved more. Maybe WE were meant for this! I ran to the nearest tree with a gleeful shout. We all seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same time and there were a few minutes of joyful chaos as we clamoured for the riches we saw around us.

I put on a gold coloured silk robe and arrayed myself in various items of splendour; sapphire earrings, pearl necklaces, jade bracelets studded with various stones, and diamond rings. I looked down at my hands, which only minutes before had been hard at work. They were calloused and grimy; the rings and bracelets appeared out of place. I suddenly felt self-conscious, and quickly lifted my eyes to see if anyone was watching me. A man nearby who had just discovered a chest of gold coins lifted his head with a look of disbelief and our eyes met. Our eyes spoke of the wonder around us, yet our voices remained mute. What could I say? What could he say?

As my new surroundings became familiar, I realized that there was plenty of time and plenty of riches. My desire to hoard these treasures faded, my heart began to slow to its normal pace, and my mind began to ponder. I sat down on a grassy hill beneath a gold-laden tree, watching the activity around me. Then I had a thought that made me sit up straight. Just before the gate opened, I had heard a trumpet blast and a voice. It was the most breathtaking, beautiful voice I had ever heard. The authority in that voice was almost terrifying, yet it was comforting. I knew I had heard that voice before. Maybe not audibly, but there was a familiarity about it that made every cell in my body desperate to please the one to whom that voice belonged. I realized that the gate could not possibly have stood against the command to open. I knew that absolutely nothing in the world could stand against the authority of the one who had spoken.

There was one thing that baffled me: Where was the one to whom that voice belonged? I knew for certain that I would recognize him, even though I had never seen him before. Where was he?

I tried to remember the stories that I had been told since I was a child. They were stories of freedom. But I could not recall anyone telling me what happened after the gate opened. Freedom. No one had ever defined the term for me, but somehow I knew I must meet the One for whom my whole being longed, or I could not be free even in the midst of these riches.

I wondered if I was being selfish. I was in beautifully landscaped surroundings, more spectacular than I could ever have dreamed about. I was also surrounded by unspeakable riches. What else could my heart desire? I found myself speaking out loud to the voice which had commanded the gate to open. "I am so grateful. Thank you. But what I really want is YOU. I'm sorry if I'm asking too much. But I want to know who you are."

I held my breath, almost expecting an audible answer. But I didn't even hear a whisper. I exhaled, and suddenly a peace that I had never felt before washed over me. It didn't matter as much where I was... I felt that I could even have been at the bottom of that hill again and it would have been alright, as long as I felt that peace.

I stood up and looked around me. The scene had changed somewhat. No, not the treasure. It remained the same. But the people... Most people were still milling about, looking at their new surroundings. But some were fighting over their treasure. Two men were fist fighting over a purple silk cloak that lay in a heap beside them. They trampled on it as they wrestled, and it began to look more and more like the ragged clothes they wore before coming through the gate. Behind them, hanging on a fence, were many purple silk cloaks that were identical to the one they were fighting over. I shook my head in disbelief. There were outbreaks of fighting all over.

There were some people, however, who were sitting or standing calmly and peacefully. Peacefully... Yes, when I looked at them, I could see the same peace radiating from them that I was experiencing. And I knew that they were also anticipating the arrival of the Peace-Giver.

Only a short time passed when we heard the same trumpet blast again. "Open," was the command that came forth, and my heart leapt within me with anticipation. I knew that I was soon to see the giver of the command. In the distance, the gate to the King's quarters opened. No one moved to pass through the gate. We knew that was not to be.

Suddenly, through the gate emerged a chariot. The horses were whiter than snow, the chariot was made of pure gold and it was inlaid with diamonds. But those seemed pale compared to the One who was driving the chariot. It was He! The Prince! The horses galloped down the hill toward us. Those who had been fighting amongst themselves appeared terrified. Some fainted where they stood and others even ran down the hill and back through the gate of their captivity. Most people stood unmoving, wondering what could possibly happen that was more exciting than what had already taken place. Those of us with "the peace" knew... This was the Prince of Peace! We were to meet Him! Joy unspeakable flowed through me. My heart danced and my face almost hurt from the smile that I could not contain. I knew at that moment that He was coming for me.

The Prince stopped in front of us. In a voice that all could hear, He said, "Follow Me." My feet were propelled by my heart's desire to be near Him. "I'm coming, I'm coming! Thank you!" I shouted with glee. The chariot raced toward the east, and effortlessly, I kept up. I did not look around me. I could only focus on the One who had given me the command. He left a trail of love behind Him and I basked in it as I walked. I knew I was not the only one who followed, but I was only truly aware of He and I. We reached a wall that ran south to the bottom of the hill, and to the north, to the King's quarters. The Prince stopped and turned to face us.

"Hail, Prince of Peace!" I shouted, and several others echoed my salute. "But aren't You the King?" asked someone to my left. "I AM" He replied. I felt confused for a moment. Wasn't He the Prince of Peace? He looked at me kindly, and responded to my thoughts. "I AM." I looked up into His eyes, and was so overwhelmed that I could not stand. I fell to my face and worshipped Him. "You Are! You Were! You Forever Will Be!" All those who were there fell before Him. I was unaware of the passing of time. It could have been hours, days, or minutes. I wanted to worship forever.

Then He spoke. "Crumble." The wall before me collapsed into fine dust. "Follow Me" said the Prince, the King. Then He climbed off His chariot and took my hand.

When the dust completely settled, I saw before me a river. It was wide and the flow was fast. It was a deep, sparkling blue, and shone with a light that came from the river itself. It flowed down from the top of the hill, and continued as far as I could see. I desired so badly to jump in. I knew that in that river, was life. True life. But I didn't want to let go of my Prince's hand. "I will never leave you", He assured me. Uncertain, I looked up at Him. One glance into His eyes, and I knew that He could only speak truth, and with no more hesitation, I plunged into the depths of the river. I sank, but never reached the bottom. When I bobbed to the surface, I saw that all the grime and dirt I had accumulated over the years was washed clean. My skin was fresh and new. The jewels I had adorned myself with were also gone. I knew that I would not need them at my destination. I looked up. My eyes followed the path of the river up the hill. I saw it go under the jewel studded walls of the King's quarters. I saw it enter the castle, then the throne room. I then saw, with the eyes of my heart and by revelation from the Prince, that the source of this River of Life was the throne and the One who sat upon it. "Go up", urged the Prince, "Go up."

Dreams

2009-04-17T19:15:00.006-05:00

Please take the time to watch the following utube video before reading the blog post - start to finish. It is well worth your time!! You will probably have to hit your back button on your browser to get back to the blog.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

I have watched Susan Boyle’s video at least ten times. And I cry every time. It is parabolic. It is the symbolic epitome of what Jesus has done for me.

These are some of the lyrics to the song that she sang:

I Dreamed a Dream

There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting
There was a time
Then it all went wrong

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I’m living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed

This blog post is dedicated to all of us who have had our dreams turned to shame, for all of us who have been visited by “the tigers at night”. For those of us whose dreams were so vivid and bright and possible when we were young… but they somehow disappeared, got lost, were stolen, or were trampled underfoot by the misdeeds of men and the destructive work of the enemy of our souls.

“Life has killed the dream I dreamed.”

My personal experience has shown me that “life” is not always kind. But our lives are not destined to end the way of this song. There is no pain, no wound, no trauma that God cannot restore. It is never too late. What the enemy tried to steal and kill and destroy is the very thing that God wants to heal, restore and make whole. What is that dream? What is that purpose that God created you for?

Susan Boyle’s voice was held captive for 47 years. But when her time came, she shone before millions of people. It is your time to shine. Be brave. Has “life” crushed you? Have your dreams (or maybe even the very essence of who you are) been ripped to pieces? Are the things that should be bringing you joy, bringing shame and reproach instead? Has your heart been broken? It is time to find yourself. It is time to walk past the fears and the prejudices and the past and your circumstances that have held you captive. Isaiah 54:4 says, “Do not be afraid; you will not suffer shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated. You will forget the shame of your youth and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood.” There comes a time that those things that have haunted you need to be put aside. It is time to look forward. It is your turn to shine. Don’t worry what anybody may say. Don’t listen to the jeering, taunting voices around you or within you. It’s time to take your stand.

God is in the business of restoring the impossibly shattered heart, of healing the mortal wound, of curing the incurable. Jeremiah 30:12 and 13 says, “This is what the Lord says: Your wound is incurable, your injury beyond healing. There is no one to plead your cause, no remedy for your sore, no healing for you. Why do you cry out over your wound, your pain that has no cure?” Two verses later, in Jeremiah 30:17, the Lord says, “But I will restore you to health and heal your wounds!” What is impossible for man is God’s specialty. So, dust off that dream and pull it out of the deep recesses of your inner closet. Put your life and your dreams into the hands of your Heavenly Father, the One who created you and put those dreams in you before you were even conceived. This is your day. When asked what advice she would give to those who want to pursue their dream, Susan Boyle said, “Just do it.” Yeah. Just do it. And then sit back and see what the Lord will do through you. No one was laughing after Ms. Boyle sang her first note. Take your stand. Just do it. God will showcase you for the sake of His Name.

Confident Kids!

2009-03-12T09:37:00.005-05:00

Well, I am glad I'm raising kids with a good self-esteem and confidence in their abilities...

One of my boys came to me the other day and said, "Wow, Mommy. I can hardly believe my head is this small. How can it fit my huge brain inside of it?"

Yesterday, I heard one of my boys telling the other one, "I always had a goal to be a genius by the age of 7. I'm right on target!"

I thank God that He, indeed, has given me bright boys. It was my dream come true when I went looking for them after I got off the treadmill and discovered that my 7 year old was reading from a science encyclopedia about the geology of Canada to my 6 year old, and they were enthralled with it! I know that being smart doesn't make a person wise, so it is my prayer everyday that as they get 'smarter', they also gain godly wisdom!

2 Corinthians 1:10

2009-03-05T19:06:00.003-06:00

2 Corinthians 1:10 says, "He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us."

I can say personally that God has, indeed, delivered me from deadly peril in the past. More than once, in fact. Sometimes it seems that when particular "perils" run through my mind, I need to be delivered from them again. But because He has brought me this far, I can hold onto hope that he will continue the work that He has begun. 2 Corinthians 2:10 is my theme these days, and I have personalized it: He has delivered me from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver me. On him I have set my hope that he will continue to deliver me.

There is an old song that goes,

He didn't bring us this far... to leave us

He didn't teach us to swim... to let us drown

He didn't build His home in us... to move away

He didn't lift us up... to let us down

We are never without hope. He holds us in His hands.

Just a Lump? I think not.

2009-02-20T01:37:00.006-06:00

Imagine a small child working to create a sculpture out of playdough. He shapes it meticulously and is working so hard to create his masterpiece. Finally, he’s finished. He runs to show everyone the marvellous creation that he has put so much time and effort into... “Mommy! Mommy! Look what I made! Isn’t it great?” When we see it, we smile encouragingly... we don’t want to hurt our little ones feelings, and we are truly proud of the effort they have put into it. But the fact remains... Their little creation just looks like a lump of playdough.

A lump.

I used to believe that God loved me only because He made me. That I was just a “lump” that had been created... and God found beauty and value in me the same way a child finds beauty in his playdough creations. I believed that when people spoke well of me they were humouring me, quoting the obligatory Scriptures about how I am wonderfully made, simply because they did not want to hurt my feelings.

Believing that I was a mere “lump” did nothing positive for my character, personality or appearance. I have done many things over the years to “prove” my lumpiness. I have gained, lost and regained (and lost!) weight – never being satisfied with my appearance. I have worked out in the gym excessively, having muscles bigger than a lot of men and sporting a haircut shorter than an army sargeant. I have hidden my figure behind layers of ill-fitting clothes. I have ignored my complexion and used the same make-up techniques since junior high. These were just some of the external signs that I did not know who I was in Christ. It is very difficult to display your value and true beauty on the outside, both in character and appearance, until you know from deep within you where your value comes from, and that you have been marvellously created by the Master craftsman.

It is not until you believe the Word of God that you can know how truly valuable you are and that you have been created with a purpose. It is essential as a Christian woman to receive the revelation of how God has truly made us one-of-a-kind, indispensable, and created with a divine purpose that He has put us here to fulfil. Until a woman has this revelation, she will continue to fight the inner battle of self-loathing and never reach her full potential to become the woman that God has created her to be.

Psalm 139 verse 14 says, “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” I used to wonder which of those words describes me: Fearfully? Or wonderfully? But God says in that same chapter that his “works are wonderful”, and He is talking about you and I.

Ephesians 2:10 says, “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

We all need to understand that God has created us with a birthright, those things that He planned for us before we were even conceived. These are the plans spoken of in Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
The enemy is a liar, and it is his goal to rob us of God’s plans. He does not want us to prosper, he only wants to harm us. He wants to defer our hope and steal our future. He uses various methods to do this. Over the course of our lives, many things can happen, and sometimes our birthright gets covered up. The enemy also tries to make an imitation, in order to deceive us into thinking we are living the life that God has planned for us.

This process of becoming who we are in Christ, is a lot like taking off unneeded and excess layers of clothes, or like opening a well-wrapped gift. When you are completely covered up with your toque, scarf, mitts, parka, skidoo suit and big winter boots, its hard to imagine a pretty figure underneath, isn't it? But once we take off all those layers and get into a nice outfit, we will find a truly lovely woman. It is the same when we have allowed things to get in the way of the potential that God has for us. There are some ways that the enemy tries to cover our beauty, our potential and our birthright. Here are some things that may add layers of stuff to our lives:

1. Unconfessed sin.
2. Living in the flesh, rather than in the Spirit
3. Wounds from the past that need healing
4. Unforgiveness
5. Curses
6. Not spending adequate time daily with God

After we remove all the excess baggage that the enemy has tried to cover our potential with, there is just ONE way to realize who we are in Christ. That is, by reading the Word of God. We need to read in the Scriptures who we are in Christ. We need to saturate ourselves with the truth. I don’t know about you, but I need it daily. It is truly my daily bread, my sustenance. There was a song when I was a kid that said, “Christ is a stretcher, not a crutch. Without His help, we can’t do very much!” The Bible says that in him we live, and move, and have our being! If you ask God if there are any layers that you need removed, He will do it... and as we all begin to fully understand who we are in Christ, as a woman created by God to do good works, which he specifically designed for each one of us, we will walk in victory and become who we truly are.

I want to leave you with this thought: I am... Deeply loved by God, Fully pleasing, Totally forgiven, Wholly accepted, And complete in Christ.

Jiffy Markers

2009-02-13T11:16:00.004-06:00

When my eldest son entered kindergarten, I wrote his name on everything with permanent marker. I wrote on his backpack, lunch box, school supplies and yes, even clothing (because you just never know!). His belongings were clearly marked as his so that no disputes could break out if another kid had the same lunchbox.

I had the coolest dream the other night. God came down and wrote His name on the back of my neck. You know... The place that shirt tags usually sit. Then He said, "You're Mine. I wrote it in permanent ink."

Ephesians 1:13 says that "Having believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God's possession - to the praise of His glory."

I refuse to get into an argument about eternal security. I just know that I'm His, and it's permanent.

The Army

2009-02-11T10:54:00.002-06:00

The Army gathered on the gentle slope of the hill. Clattering, clanging and shouts could be heard as they prepared for battle. The enemy, just becoming visible over the crest of the hill in the distance, was steadily advancing in a straight, organized line directly towards The Army. Like a dark wave, the enemy ranks swept over the hill and began its descent into the valley.

A low murmur could be heard among The Army, who was now frantically trying to complete their preparations.

“Do you see the enemy? There are so many of them!”

“Yes, and they are so well-organized!”

“Did anybody see my shield? I can’t find my shield!”

Never before had there been such a foe. And never before had The Army been so unprepared. In fact, The Army looked more like a band of kids playing dress-up with whatever equipment was at hand – which apparently wasn’t much.

As they began to march down the rocky, thorny hill, The Army quickly realized the essential item that had been left at home – their boots!

So, the enemy passed through the valley and advanced up the hill toward the sock-footed Army. The enemy wasn’t worried – they knew that The Army had also left behind their Swords.

Ephesians 6:10 – 17 (NIV)Finally, be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power. Put on the full armour of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armour of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God.”

The New Mount Rushmore??

2008-12-24T15:35:00.004-06:00

Silas (7) and Caleb (6) were talking about South Dakota. I was surprised that they knew anything about it, since they have never been there and we are Canadian. Caleb said, "That's where Mount Rushmore is!" I asked them if they knew which presidents' faces were carved into the mountain. Between the two of them, these were their answers:

Mr. Linkinham

Peter Clinton

George Washington D.C.

and.....

Stephane Dion!

Haa Haaa!!!

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-23T14:20:00.002-06:00

2008-12-07T21:15:00.003-06:00

Hello Everyone,

Sorry it has been two weeks since I last posted. There are some things going on around here that have prevented me from blogging lately, but MAYBE this week I will have a chance!

Full Throttle

2008-11-24T21:18:00.006-06:00

(Before I start my post, I want to say that this picture is my husband, Jimmy, trying to get as much mowing done as possible before the storm hits! My Dad is in the background, trimming the grass around the new trees. It was taken the same summer as the story in my post.)

Two summers ago I was visiting my parents and grandparents at their farm in Saskatchewan. It was a busy summer, and the farm yard was in need of some work, so I decided to surprise them by mowing their huge yard. I waited until my parents went to run errands and my grandparents had their afternoon nap, then I got out the old ride-on mower. After considerable difficulty I managed to get it started. I mowed for a few hours, very frustrated with the fact that the old mower hardly had enough guts to make it up the slightest hill. Not only that, it wasn’t mowing well at all. It left patches of long grass all along the paths that I was mowing, and I kept backtracking to try to get what I missed. It was a frustrating experience. My Grandpa eventually came out of their house, not looking very pleased. I shut off the mower and tried to explain my wonderful, good deed that I was doing for them. As I was telling him, his eyes wandered over the shoddy mowing job I had done so far. I informed him that they should probably consider getting a new mower and described the great extent to which I had gone during the past few hours in order to mow such a small area. Being a man of few words, he just turned on the mower, moved a lever up that said, “Throttle,” and said, “That should help.” The sputtering, half-dead lawn mower roared into life. When I pushed the gas pedal, it took off so fast that I almost flipped over backwards! I had been mowing all that time at half throttle!

In terms of my Christian walk, I have operated for much of my life at half throttle. For too many years, I puttered along, feeling like I was expending every ounce of energy I had but not getting very far, even backtracking and going in circles now and then. Often, I would stall out completely and it would take awhile to get moving again. There are some things, as Christians, that can stall us from moving forward. Some of these can include:

Unconfessed sin

Living in the flesh, rather than in the Spirit

Wounds from the past that need healing

Unforgiveness

Not spending adequate time daily with God

There are probably more things that could put a person at half throttle, and if you feel that you are sputtering a bit and need a boost, then go to the One who will tell you the truth. In the same way that my Grandpa fixed the problem because he understood how the mower operates, so God knows us each individually and He knows what we need to move forward and thrive as believers. Believe me, it is much better to be moving ahead full throttle! I am so thankful that the Lord, through the truth of His Word, has flipped my throttle switch. Until that moment, I truly didn’t know what I was missing! If you feel like you are walking with a heavy load, if you feel like something just isn’t quite right, if you feel like you are expending tons of energy and not getting very far… Then you probably need the Ultimate Mechanic, your Creator, to turn up your throttle.

You Might Be Manna

2008-11-24T09:58:00.003-06:00

At the beginning of October, someone blessed us with enough money to cover our rent for November. We saved it all month, not spending a penny of it. The day before rent was due, however, the bank took out their monthly fees, which left us a little short. What were we going to do? The first of the month came… and went. On Sunday, November 2, we were on our way out the door to go to church and saw our caretaker. Jimmy and I whispered to each other, “Should we tell him we don’t have rent?” “No, let’s go to church and pray for our miracle.” So that’s what we did.

As if the pastor knew our situation (but he didn’t!) he preached on finances, and everybody prayed blessings into their financial situation. Boy, did we pray!! After church a man walked up to me, slipped $20 into my hand and said, “God wants me to give you this. Maybe you can take your kids to McDonalds or something.” I burst into tears and said, “You are the miracle we prayed for this morning. This $20 is paying our rent this month! Please, can we skip McDonalds and pay our rent with it?” This man had no idea of our needs.

What if someone had not blessed us with rent money? What if this man had not given the $20?

When God tells you to do something, no matter how small it may seem…. DO IT.

On Tuesday, I opened our apartment-sized deep freeze where we keep our frozen meat, only to find that the freezer had quit working. Our entire winter’s supply of meat that my parents had given us (80-100 pounds of it) was bad and had to be thrown out. After sitting down and bawling for a good long time, I cleaned up the big mess. Oh God, what are we going to do?

A few hours later, I got a phone call. “Hello, this is Aunt Ruth. We have just gotten back to Winnipeg from your parents’ house in Saskatchewan. They sent some things for us to deliver to you. Can you come get it? There is a box of FROZEN MEAT so you should come as soon as possible so it doesn’t thaw.” Yes. This really happened this week!! It is enough meat to get us through at least a month, maybe even two. It’s our manna – God always keeps His promises and He will never leave us hungry!

What if my parents had not given us the box of meat? What if my uncle and aunt were not willing to deliver it?

When God tells you to do something, no matter how small it may seem… DO IT.

A couple of years ago, in Jimmy’s first year of nursing, we fed our kids the last bowl of oatmeal in the house. We were out of food. Lunch time was nearing, and we had no idea what we would eat. What are we going to do?

Someone rang our door bell and when I let her in, she gave us $200 worth of Sobeys’ gift certificates. Wow! Lunch was provided. Oh, but wait… a problem. Our gas tank was empty and we had no way to get to Sobeys. I checked our mailbox. There was a $20 bill in it. Our gas money was provided!

What if the lady did not bring us the Sobeys gift certificates? What if someone had not sent $20 for us to put gas into the van?

When God tells you to do something, no matter how small it may seem… DO IT.

A few years ago, a woman in my ladies Bible Study group told a story of when she first started going to church. She had very little money and had just learned about tithing. She saw two pennies on the floor, picked them up and in a laughing manner asked a nearby pastor, “So what’s the tithe on two cents?” He said, “Well, why don’t you just throw them both in the plate and see what God can do?” So she did. That day, someone had put an anonymous $200 gift in the offering plate for her. She received ten thousand times more back than what she gave!

What if that person hadn’t obeyed God’s voice and kept their money instead?

When God tells you to do something, no matter how small it may seem… DO IT!

The Snowblower

2008-11-18T13:31:00.005-06:00

A snowblower is an amazing machine. As you push it, it gobbles up all of the snow in its path and spews it out to the side. You never have to worry about that snow again. Why? Because now it is in your neighbour’s driveway!

I have heard rumours of snowblower wars. It happens when the neighbour gets home after a clear, sunny day and sees twice as much snow in his yard as when he left for work in the morning. So, he gets his snowblower out and gets to work pumping it all back into the yard next door. The battle has begun. From there, it escalates. Not only is the driveway snow being spat back and forth. No. In order to maximize vengeance, shoveling snow from the front lawn into the path of the snowblower works wonders. And it is worth the effort.

Sometimes when we speak, we “dump” on each other. We yell at our spouses. We get grumpy with our neighbours. We complain to our boss. We snap at our kids. This results in those around us becoming out of sorts as well and we start getting back what we’ve been handing out… sometimes more than we gave!

Next time you feel like you need to “release” don’t blow it into the neighbour’s yard. There is a better way of handling it. God is always listening and available to hear your cries. He knows your frustrations, your hang-ups and your needs even better than you do. He will never retaliate or yell back. He will, however, gently correct and guide you. He will lead you to the truth. He will comfort you. Tell Him everything, then open your Bible and let the Lord speak to you.

God’s “snow removal service” is much more effective than just shoving around all that excess stuff that keeps blowing around. Let Him “clean off your driveway”. He does a great job! He is even willing to clean your neighbour’s yard so you don’t end up with a yard full of their snow again. Once you take care of your own driveway, pray for those around you too!

Our Eyes Met

2008-11-15T11:34:00.007-06:00

I turned the T.V. on to catch the news headlines before I stepped out to run some errands. Flipping channels, I saw the big, brown eyes of a gaunt, but smiling little boy on a World Vision commercial.

It was as if our eyes met.

Tears filled my eyes, as always, and I quickly changed channels. Annoyance with child sponsorship programs rose up within me – “I wish they wouldn’t use these beautiful little kids to make me feel guilty. I already sponsor a child. What more do they want from me?” Instead of checking the news, I just shut off the T.V. and quickly left the house.

First stop – downtown. As I walked down Portage Avenue a man, smelling of alcohol, stumbled toward me and asked for change.

Our eyes met.

I patted my pockets and to my relief they were empty… Well, except for the $20 bill. “Buy him lunch." The quiet, inner whisper of the Lord’s voice was loud and clear. “Buy the man some lunch." I replied to both the Lord and the man’s outstretched hand with one emphatic word: “NO! - I mean, no, sorry sir, I have no change. But, uh, God bless you.” I quickly walked away, avoiding the man’s eyes in an attempt to also avoid the conviction that was rising within my heart.

I walked to the mall and opened the doors. Ahhhhh! Warm air hit my face and my cold nose began to thaw. As I walked to the office where my appointment was, I noticed a rock in my shoe and sat down on a mall bench. As I sat back up after fixing my shoe I saw an unmistakably pregnant teenage girl sitting across from me.

Our eyes met.

As my gaze locked with hers, her eyes begged me for mercy and compassion. She looked down at the cross necklace that I wore, and a tear spilled down one cheek. I felt a sudden and powerful urge to tell her that even in these circumstances, Jesus still loves her. But I didn’t tell her that. I just asked, “Are you ok?” She nodded her head as if to say “yes,” while more tears flowed down her face. “That’s good. Well, I hope you have a better day,” I said, and uncomfortably stood up and walked away, hurrying to my appointment.

After my meeting, I went home and baked some bread. As I was kneading the dough, a thought came to me – maybe the pastor and his family would like some homemade bread. I ignored that thought and let my mind wander, pondering the events of the day and the people I had run into. But for some reason I didn’t want to think about them. I responded aloud to my thoughts. “Be quiet!”

After I finished baking my bread, I sat down at the table and spread butter on my fresh, hot slice. Again, I thought of the pastor and his family. “Oh – Be quiet!!” I hollered to myself. Why would the pastor need bread? And even if his family does need food, there are a lot more people with a lot more time and money to provide for them. So please, would my thoughts… BE… QUIET?!?!

I put on some nice, mellow worship music and sat down. As I took a bite out of my fresh, warm, and oh-so-delicious bread, four people suddenly stood before me: the pastor, the pregnant girl, the man asking for change and the World Vision child.

Our eyes met.

I sat there, with my bread in my mouth, so stunned that I was unable to chew it. The four people joined hands with each other, and suddenly became one Person – the Lord Jesus.

Our eyes met.

Yes. This was all a dream. And I woke up with a tear-soaked pillow, begging the Lord for a second chance. In fact, I think I will go bake some bread right now…

Matthew 25:34-40
Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’

Free Press Letter to the Editor

2008-11-12T11:08:00.003-06:00

I wrote a letter to the Winnipeg Free Press, and they printed it. If you want, you can check it out here:

http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/editorial/story/4248711p-4891938c.html

I would like to expand on it, but I don't have a spare moment to do so right now! Maybe later?

Politics and Personal Hypocrisy

2008-11-11T10:13:00.014-06:00

Please note: This was inspired by a post I read at http://terrysoapbox.blogspot.com/

I am tired of having to defend my Christianity because of the Republican Party. Republicans are not synonymous with Christians. I do not like people assuming when I say I am a believer that I am “one of those Republican hypocrites”. (Please note: I am not defending the Democratic Party either!)

How was Sarah Palin demonstrating godly love as "the pitbull", the one sent out to sarcastically and personally attack the Democrats? How was she displaying integrity when she was in the middle of "troopergate"? How was she an example of a godly wife and mother by running for VP - probably a very hectic schedule - when she has some kids who really need a mother right now?

I saw an interview with Sarah Palin after she got home to Alaska after this whole thing was over. To me, she looked relieved to be back in the familiar. I think this whole campaign may have been a wake-up call for her. I do not doubt her faith. Everyone makes mistakes... and hers were very much in the spotlight. Imagine if our weaknesses were on CNN every night! Jesus Himself said that "the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light" (Luke 16:8). I think that she tumbled into a situation that was far beyond what she was capable of controlling: Hopefully this was a lesson learned. We should be neither applauding her nor booing her… We should be praying for her.

I could go on about the Republican Party and their so-called "Christian values". One example is embryonic stem cell research. The Republicans talk like Christians in order to get their votes. But if you look at Bush, he okayed embryonic stem cell research just months after coming to power 8 years ago... after adamantly insisting he was against it during his campaign. He didn't care: He was voted in thanks to "The Base" (ie., gullible Christians) and then could keep doing what he pleased as long as "The Base" continued choosing to turn a blind eye. After all, President Bush must be a Christian... He says so and he is a Republican.

During this recent presidential campaign, we listened to many speeches by both candidates. One thing I noticed was that, even when I wasn't in the same room, I could tell who was speaking because of the noise of the crowd. Jimmy would turn on the T.V. and when I heard a negative, rumbling "boooo..... boooo...." I knew it was McCain supporters. He repeatedly had to tell them to stop booing. It was the McCain supporters who spewed personal attacks toward the Democrats, not the other way around. Is this a demonstration of Jesus' love? Aren't we to love our enemies, and bless others? (And are the Democrats even "the enemy"?)

The Bible warns us in Matthew 10:16 to be "shrewd as snakes and innocent as doves". We need to see that the world's system of governing is not God's system. We need to pray earnestly for our leadership... and be very hesitant to endorse any particular political party.

To bring this down to a personal level (for what is the point of just looking at others, without looking inward), I have been asking myself what I am doing that is hypocritical? What do I say, and then not do? When have I been overly negative and critical of others while not meeting my own standards of godly character? Oh.... So many times. I know that there will probably be people who read this who can clearly point out my hypocrisy, harsh judgments, and lack of brotherly love. To those people I ask your forgiveness. So, Lord, please forgive me, and help me represent You to those around me.

The List

2008-11-08T09:37:00.005-06:00

Today is a new day.

It is not yesterday.

Yesterday's worries, activities and scurrying are over. Even if I didn't get everything on yesterday's list done, the day didn't wait for me.

Deadlines come... and they pass.

But today is a new day.

A NEW LIST.

Some of yesterday's things to do are on my list today. But it is still today's list. I can't look back to yesterday, or I will be overwhelmed. I don't have to be perfect. His mercies are new every morning. I just need to allow His new mercies to flood my life, continually washing through my soul and mind. I need to forgive myself because He has forgiven me, and I need to allow myself to see that His mercies are for me.

Praise God, today is a new day!

Looking Forward

2008-10-31T17:57:00.003-05:00

(I originally wrote this in August, 2007, but I wanted to post it today.)

A couple days ago, I was driving down Bishop Grandin (speed limit, 80 km/hour) and suddenly felt the urge to drive only while looking in my rearview mirror. So, I prudently waited until there was no traffic ahead of me, and tried it out. Here is what I discovered:

1) It is very hard to stay on course.

2) It is a highly stressful thing to do.

3) If there had been any obstacles ahead of me, I would have crashed, whereas if I was looking ahead, I could have easily avoided them.

4) If you keep it up without looking ahead for a long time and realize you are going off course, you start to steer the exact opposite way that you are supposed to when you try to get back in the right lane.

5) Without conscious effort, I slowed down considerably.

Do I need to explain the analogy? Naaaahhh. I think we get the point.

Let's keep looking ahead!!

He is Bigger!

2008-10-20T20:40:00.004-05:00

Every Sunday morning when I was young, I was jolted awake by a pounding beat and screaming guitar. Well, maybe twanging guitar is a better description. It was my Dad listening to his Southern Gospel music, which truly drove me nuts. I could never figure out why he would not even let my sister and I turn up our little Ghetto Blasters during civilized hours, whereas he could crank up the big sound system with four gigantic speakers at 7:00 a.m.

SEVEN O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING!!

And what really got to me is that, fully against my will, my toes would start tapping. First they would start to twitch. I would tell them, “Listen, toes, I can't stand this music and it just woke me up out of a wonderful, sound sleep.” But soon they were tapping to the rhythm and my head would start bobbing. This was really a problem because I am of Mennonite descent. Dancing was strictly prohibited and I was worried that this could be classified as dancing in some people’s books.

All these years, I have kept this secret well-hidden. No, not the "dancing"... My enjoyment of Southern Gospel music! Dad, despite my incessant complaining about your music, it is time to tell you that I am a Closet-Quartet-Liker. There. It’s out there. Ahhh… It feels good to just say it.

There is one song that I clearly recall and lately I have been tapping my toes to its rhythm that still reverberates through my head. It goes like this:

“Bigger than all my problems, Bigger than all my fears
God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see
Bigger than all my questions, Bigger than anything
My God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see

Bigger than all the shadows that fall across my back
God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see
Bigger than all confusion, Bigger than anything
My God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see

Bigger than all the giants, fear and unbelief
God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see
Bigger than all my hangups, Bigger than anything
My God is bigger than any mountain that I can or cannot see”

Boys in a Box

2008-10-15T18:28:00.007-05:00

Being an extremely over-protective homeschooling parent, it may surprise you that for about a year now I have been pondering the idea of putting my kids into school. Actually, “pondering” may not be the appropriate word. Wrestling. Contending. Crying out to the Lord in a distressed manner. Yes—that’s more like it.

Last year, I heard the Lord tell me that we should put the boys in school next year and I could not put it out of my mind. It wasn’t like, “Hmmm… I wonder if we should put the kids in school?” It was the clear voice of God unequivocally speaking to me—the kind of voice that makes a person stand up, salute and say “YES SIR!” So, despite my fears and hesitations, and maybe because I know I must conquer them, I forged ahead in my quest to find peace about sending my little innocent babes to the big world out-of-sight of their ever-looming mother. I mentioned it to my husband a few times, but he was not really for the idea and since I was so hesitant, I didn’t mind a bit. Hubby says, “no”. That’s a good reason to keep them home!

This September, at the beginning of our homeschooling year, the issue rose up again. Loudly. God would not leave me alone. I MUST put the kids in school next year. I finally came to a place of being at peace about it. AHHHHHH. Now I can finally let them go.

Then it happened. The glitch in the system. (Or so I thought.) My husband would not have any of it. “Absolutely, positively NO WAY are we putting the kids in school next year. I won’t even pray about it because I already know we’re not supposed to. Don’t even ask about it again. If God wants us to put the kids in school, I will have to hear the audible voice of God Himself.”

YIKES!!!! Now what???? I couldn’t sleep for a couple of weeks. Was I not hearing from God? Even more disturbing than that, could it be that Jimmy was not hearing from God?? (He has a pretty good track record on matters of importance, and I have learned to trust his judgment.) So, I spent my nights questioning my ability to hear from God, and begging the Lord to show Jimmy what to do, and that I will have peace about whatever he decides.

Two weeks later, Jimmy had a dream…

He was in an operating room where a doctor was doing heart surgery on two boys. When their chests were opened, Jimmy grabbed the boys’ hearts, put them in a box and ran off with them. He wanted to preserve them. He wanted to keep those two little boys’ hearts safe from harm and close to his heart in the little box he had made for them. But of course those precious hearts could not thrive in a box. They began to die…

And Jimmy woke up. And he knew. He knew that we could not keep our little boys in a box any longer. We had to let them go. We had to release them to the Father who will not only protect them better than we can, but also release them to reach their God-given destiny.
God’s timing is wonderful. He is teaching me to trust Him… When the time is right, He will speak. I can trust Him to speak to Jimmy. I can trust Him with our children. But more than that, we are learning that God’s hands are always carrying, but never crushing.

Yes, our kids are going to be put into a “real” school next year… I get to keep them home one more year, and I mean to make the most of it!

The Tree

2008-10-09T14:49:00.004-05:00

From down the street, over the barbed-wire fence and across the field it beckoned to me. Its branches swaying in the wind appeared to be waving to me like a long-lost friend. It was The Tree.

I was seven years old and our family had just moved from the forest-laden north to the bald prairies of southern Saskatchewan. The tallest plant that I had spotted before The Tree was a tumbleweed! Needless to say, I just HAD to go climb that tree. So, I walked down the street (beyond the limits my parents had set), scooted under the barbed-wire fence (with only a minor tear to the seat of my pants) and ran at top-speed to The Tree (to avoid detection of my mother's watchful eye).

I climbed that tree like a monkey to the top branches. To my seven year old soul, it felt like a little taste of heaven. I swayed with the wind, all alone but not at all lonely. I looked all around me, and there were no other trees to be seen. There was, however, a clump of low-lying bushes far off in the distance that looked fun to explore. I scampered down the tree, but when I got to the ground the bushes were no longer visible. Not deterred, I began walking in the general direction of the bushes and after considerable time I found them. From there I saw, much further away, more scrub brush (a term used by Canadian prairie-dwellin' folk to describe the prickly, half-dead bushes that grow in the dry prairies). I went to explore. And so it went, from field to field, from bushes to bushes. Eventually, my sense of adventure began to fade, and I realized that not only was I alone... I was also beginning to feel a little bit lonely. And hungry - the rumblings in my stomach indicated that it was well past lunch time. I HAD to get home.

Suddenly, what had been a fun and exciting excursion became the stuff of nightmares as I turned around to run home and saw TWO different clumps of bushes in slightly different directions. From which had I come? Now, I was not only lonely, but very, very afraid.

I wandered for hours, crying and screaming, until I eventually saw The Tree. Its branches looked like they were reaching out to embrace me, and I felt very much like the prodigal son returning home. I only hoped that my parents were going to be as welcoming!
It was late in the evening when I walked through the door of my house to meet a pair of very upset parents and a handful of concerned neighbours who had been searching for me for most of the day.

Well I must admit that, unlike the prodigal son, I received neither a fatted calf nor a new robe. Instead, I was thoroughly disciplined, fed a healthy supper, and tucked into bed with a hug and a kiss. My bed had never before felt so cozy and comfortable. It was good to be home!

As I grew up from being a child tempted by the lure of a tree, to a woman surrounded by the enticing facade that one is constantly bombarded with, the Lord has often reminded me of The Tree. It was a good lesson learned: It is better to stay on the right path in the first place than to painfully search for the way back and have to deal with the consequences.

My Blankie

2008-10-06T09:48:00.006-05:00

When the thunder roars

And I'm tucked in bed,

I just grab my blankie

And I cover my head.

When I'm scared of the dark

And I'm all alone,

I just snuggle my blankie

And I let out a moan.

I can't figure out why -

Though my white-knuckled fingers

Are grasping my blankie,

The terror still lingers.

And then I remember

What my Mommie said;

"Just talk to the Lord

When you're scared in your bed."

I lower my blankie

To stick out my eyes,

Saying, "I know You're there, God

And You hear my cries."

I stick out my head...

Now it's down to my neck.

But I hold blankie close

To keep monsters in check.

"Please keep me safe, Lord

Though faith I may lack -

This blankie won't help much

In case of attack."

As morning draws closer

And I'm still alive,

I'm happy to see

One more night I've survived.

No thanks to my blankie

Though it kept me warm.

It was the covering of God

That kept me from harm.

Swimming Lessons

2008-10-01T18:11:00.008-05:00

I am a homeschooling mom. People homeschool their children for many and various reasons. Some want to provide their children with a rich, natural environment to encourage a love of learning and don't want to stifle their kids' creativity in the rigid structure of the school system. Some parents know about the benefits of one-on-one tutoring and have chosen homeschooling to pursue that method of instruction. Many parents don't agree with much of the public school curriculum and want to teach their children in a faith-based setting. These reasons are very good and all of them were factored into our decision to homeschool. However, my primary reason to homeschool my children is because I am the most over-protective parent I have ever met and am unwilling to let my children out of my sight. When I insist on holding my almost 6 and 7 year old's hands when walking across the street even though they know full-well not to run off into traffic and someone tells me, "You know... You're not still going to be doing that when they're 18", I am quick to retort, "And WHY NOT??"

This over-protective nature of mine was glaring today when I took my children to swimming lessons. I brought some cross-stitching to work on while my kids were learning to swim. However, I did not sew a single stitch... I was too busy clutching the fabric in my hands and wringing it like an old dish rag while ensuring my children were still afloat in the pool. A woman came and sat next to me and attempted to strike up a conversation. She was also a homeschooling mom. I don't think her reason for homeschooling was the same as mine. I could tell because she was able to carry on a coherent conversation despite the fact that her four year old was flailing in the deep end. I couldn't. In fact, at one point I forgot to respond to one of her comments, which I realized when I suddenly and uncomfortably felt her gaze on me. "Oh! I'm sorry", I said, "I couldn't talk because I was watching my kids. Heh, heh, heh." A little later, I couldn't see my five year old. But I stayed calm... Well, sort of. I did not leap over the bleachers, jump the balcony and dive in to save my young one. No. However, without giving it a thought, I did grab the hand of this lady sitting next to me (I would tell you her name, but I don't know it). I did not let go. I hung on like she was a life preserver and desperately gasped for air, as I could only hope my son was doing at that point. "Where's my baby??", I cried in anguish. The lady attempted to pry her hand away from mine and said, "Baby? I thought you had five and six year olds. They are standing with their class next to the life jackets over there." I tried to discreetly remove my hand from hers. "Oh... heh, heh, heh. Thanks..."

Despite this little setback today, I know that God has been working on my heart in this area. He is showing me that clutching my precious children so tightly is not helping them, it is holding them back. He is so much more able to take care of them than I am. His loving arms are the safest place to be, and it is my job as a parent to teach them His ways and point them to the Father who will never leave them but who will empower them to reach their potential. Like a small child who doesn't realize they are damaging a butterfly by holding on to its wings, I can do no good for my kids if I don't release them from my closed fist.

Lord, forgive me for not trusting You. Please continue the good work You have begun in me. I release my children into Your hands, knowing that You intend only good for them, and that you will protect them according to Psalm 91.

Psalm 91
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust."
Surely He will save you from the fowler's snare
and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with His feathers,
and under His wings you will find refuge;
His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.
A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
You will only observe with your eyes
and see the punishment of the wicked.
If you make the Most High your dwelling -
even the Lord, who is my refuge -
then no harm will befall you,
no disaster will come near your tent.
For He will command His angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;
they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
You will tread upon the lion and the cobra;
you will trample the great lion and the serpent.
"Because he love Me," says the Lord, "I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
He will call upon me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honour him.
With long life will I satisfy him
and show him My salvation."

Perspectives

2008-09-30T16:15:00.005-05:00

As I leaned on my apartment's balcony railing, I admired the beautiful orange glow of the sunset. It had been a beautiful, sunny day and the sun's rays shone through a haze of humidity rising from the earth, creating a spectacular sight. Not a cloud was to be seen to block my view. I whispered a prayer of thanks to God for the great day, and pulled up a chair to watch the show He was providing.

Suddenly, KABOOM!!

Thunder shook the building and had me jumping out of my chair! Within a minute, wind was whipping around the corner of the building, blowing sand into my eyes, and pushing around the kids' toys that had been sitting peacefully on the balcony only moments before. Before clouds rolled over the building into my view, the rain was beginning. I ran through the apartment building to look out the east side windows. The sky was black.

I again stood on my balcony, this time watching the storm. What an object lesson God provided to show me my limited perspective. When I thought all was calm, a storm was brewing just behind my back and I couldn't even see it coming. God saw the storm coming. In fact, He even orchestrated it.

Sometimes all we can see is the storm. We can't see beyond the moment of trouble. We forget that the One who created the storm will be the One to calm the sea. We need to remember that even amid the roar of the raging storm, He whispers... "I will keep My promises."

Purple Footprints

2008-09-30T15:59:00.011-05:00

When I was young, I used to imagine what it would be like if every footstep I took left a permanent purple footprint. I tried to walk a slightly different path to school everyday so I could leave a bigger mark in the world. I zigged and I zagged. I did circles around trees. And sometimes I even imagined leaving handprints on things as I walked by them... If those prints had really stayed, that town would be painted purple!

I wonder sometimes how my life - the things I have said and done - have impacted others. I wonder if the prints I have left have been pretty purple, angry red, cheery yellow, or gloomy shades of grey. I'm sure I have left behind some of all of those. Everywhere we go, we always leave our presence in our wake.

My Maker has put a permanent imprint on my heart Y (Ephesians 1:13) and I hope and pray that I reflect Him every step of my journey in an increasing measure (and that He will cover those times that I don't).

My Heart

2008-09-30T13:07:00.005-05:00

One day shortly after God miraculously healed my Dad's broken neck and back, the Lord came to me. He said, "You think that healing a body is a huge miracle (and it is), but don't underestimate the most miraculous thing; the healing of a wounded heart". Then He said, "Let Me show you your heart". I saw a heart, full of sores - gross and infected. It smelled. It was struggling to beat. It was absolutely disgusting and I was repelled at the sight of it. OH GOD - is this MY heart?? It is?!? I'm gross! How can this be? How can this heart of mine be healed? Infection was oozing through my heart. It looked beyond repair. And I felt absolute despair. Was I really that bad? But I have never really been "rebellious"! I've gone on missions! I've witnessed to a lot of people!

And God pointed out to me a sore on my filthy heart and said, "That's what YOUR righteousness looks like." And I cried to God, "Then there's no hope! What can be done for my heart?"

Suddenly, God's finger reached towards my heart. On it, there was oil and ointment. He touched a gaping, infected sore. The sore disappeared. One by one He touched my sores. Slowly the stench in the room dissipated and my heart began to beat stronger, at first tentatively, then with the full force of an athlete. He replaced my "righteous" filth with the righteousness of Jesus.

Once the sores were gone, I saw some stab wounds. Every time my heart beat, the wounds would hurt. Those wounds were from people who had hurt me. God reached down again with His finger and put a soothing salve on those stab wounds and they began to heal. But one wound, the biggest one, did not heal. "Forgive", God said, "Forgive them". I forgave those people who had hurt my heart, and the wound began to heal, eventually leaving only a scar. The scar remained as a testimony to others - so they could witness the mighty healing power of God.

My Father spoke once more, "Healing a heart - that's the biggest miracle, but nothing is impossible for Me."