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Archive for September, 2013

As someone our family loves is going through the medical procedures to have the extent of cancer growth in his body investigated, ‘it’ is in the forefront of our minds. May God hold him in the palm of his hand, and may we be scared enough to live.

It scares us.

It makes us contemplate our life, and our death.

It is like a dark shadow that is possibly around the next corner, or not.

It may not touch us physically, but it will touch us all.

It will come into our life, and it just might take our life from us.

The ‘it’ I speak of is cancer.

For most of us, the word cancer is familiar … too familiar. Cancer is a word that is synonymous with death, because, for us all, there is someone we have known whose body has succumbed to that disease. At the same time, for us all, there is someone who has beaten that disease.

Cancer happens when abnormal cells grow and spread very fast. Cancer cells are like bunnies, they reproduce, quickly, and can take over their environment.

According to the Canadian Cancer Society, 40-45% of Canadians will develop cancer, while 24-29% actually die of the disease.  That means that, if diagnosed with the disease, you still have have a good chance of survival.

I just received my reminder of it being time for a mammogram (remember last summer’s posts Mammo 1, and Mammo 2?). It states: I have to say that the line, “early detection saves lives” is the main motivator for me to make that important appointment.

After a stint volunteering at Camp Goodtimes, a camp for kids affected by cancer, my daughter ‘debriefed’ with me about her experiences, her feelings and what she learned.

Well learn she did, and she brought her education home to mama.

What she learned was that those families with children or moms or dads with cancer are learning to keep living through the battle. They do not stop living. Instead, they live more intentionally, more fully, because they live with the shadow of death hanging over their heads. They know that every day is a gift. They know that every day is an opportunity.

She told me of the people she met, and how cancer was NOT what they talked about.

The kids talked about taking pictures of a cute guy, or of eating a yummy treat, or of swimming in the frigid lake. The parents talked about their kids, their jobs, and their homes.

The last night was an evening meal for the adults without the kids … the kids had a party. Once their separate meals were done, they all joined together for a big, fun, loud, joyous dance.

As she told me of their dancing, I was reminded of the numerous times that I have heard of joyous dancing before:

“… the month when their sorrow was turned into joy and their mourning into a day of celebration.”
Esther 9:22

“… a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance”
Ecclesiastes 3:4

“Then maidens will dance and be glad, young men and old as well. I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.”
Jeremiah 31:13

“You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy”
Psalm 30:11

And it reminded me that we all have the shadow of death hanging over our heads. We are all going to die one day, and we should all live each day as though death were at our doorstep. Being cancer free does not mean that we have any guarantees of tomorrow.

Go and live as though you are being threatened by the Big C … dance!

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Why-We-Do-What-We-Do

Why do we do what we do?

for others to notice?

for God to be glorified?

for our own self interests?

When Jesus came, and walked on this rotating globe, he came with a purpose”

“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.” Matthew 5:17

The Law … you know the Torah, the first five books of the Bible (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy). This Law, containing 613 commandments, was the Israelite’s guide for how to live and remain in favor with God. And The Prophets … so many of them in the Old Testament. “The English word prophet comes from a Greek word meaning advocate” (Wikipedia). These Biblical prophets were given messages to share, and tasks to do, on behalf of (advocating for) the One true God.

His purpose was to not simply obey the Law, but to be our living example of the perfection that obeying the Law was aimed at working towards (an impossible task for we mere mortals).

So, according to Jesus, what is our purpose?

Just before He states His purpose, He declares of his disciples (of whom we who follow Christ are):

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:14-16).

We are to be a light on a hill …

so our purpose is to …

reflect?

And what are we reflecting?

Our Father in heaven.

Really, those verses in Matthew can be summed up later in Matthew (7:12):

“so in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.”

Ah, the Golden Rule … those are words to live by.

Why do we do what we do?

To reflect …

our Father in heaven,

and in doing so we live out the Law, the Prophets, and the love of Jesus Christ.

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b3a692b86b517f2c33603560c9842275The seasons are about to change with the calendar this coming weekend.

The carefree days of the hot summer sun have already been traded in for blustery winds, falling leaves and a chill or dampness in the air. The daylight is diminishing, drawing us innately to huddle in our homes like a caterpillar to it’s cocoon.

Soon we will be scanning for recipes to fill eager tummies when we bow and give thanks.

Followed by the night of dressing up as who we are not.

Followed by remembering those who gave fragments of their days, turning into all of their lives, for freedom.

And then the Christmas season of anticipating, hoping, waiting.

We are always going to be waiting …

As this season of darkness draws upon us, and our days, it is sometimes difficult to remember the light. When life’s circumstances may be equally dark and dismal, it is then that waiting for the return of the light can get nearly unbearable.

But …

The New Year will come.

The day of lovers will arrive.

The break in the spring will happen.

Dead roots in the ground, hard and lifeless in their dirty humus.

Humus … “A brown or black organic substance consisting of partially or wholly decayed vegetable or animal matter that provides nutrients for plants and increases the ability of soil to retain water” (freedictionary.com).

Life … from death.

And then the Easter season of death and rising will transform into one of new promise.

The One we have been waiting for.

But this season …

… these are the days of being still and knowing, not that we are waiting for Him, but that He IS God …

… even while we wait.

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chickI heard the story of a family who built a small backyard chicken coop.

They were so excited when they had their first fertilized eggs ready to be hatched. The whole family watched and waited for, for many days (about three weeks), for the process of the tiny chicks to emerge.

Finally tapping noises from within the shells, then the cracking through and soon the little chick was freed from his or her shell.

One of the eggs, though, was not moving beyond the making of a small hole. The family could see the little chick’s beak peeking through, so they knew that it was still alive. As time moved on, and nature was not taking it’s course, they decided to help this little one get freed from it’s all-encompassing shell.

In no time at all the shell was being pecked from the inside and out, and out came a rather floppy-headed chick … who died not long after.

Now that chick might have been weak or sick, even before being helped from it’s cumbersome shell. More likely, though, because the chick had been helped through it’s toughest task (the task that strengthens it’s neck muscles for life outside the shell) the chick was too weak to hold it’s head up.

The good intentions of assisting the chick through a tough task, may have been the very reason for it’s demise.

I was reminded of this story recently as another mom and I were talking about certain struggles in the lives of our kids, and what we could do to help them get through it.

All of a sudden I envisioned that newborn chick, with a floppy head … a floppy head not strong enough to survive because a well-meaning person stepped into it’s life and did the task that … that the chick was intended to struggle through, because the struggle of pecking was making it’s neck muscles strong enough to face what was next.

It is NEVER easy to watch our children struggle. It is NEVER easy to sit back, and not try to ‘fix’ their problems. But what if … what if there is One who is more wise, who knows the strength that can come from struggling through tough times? And what if our ‘help’ actually prevents the development of a character trait or experiential learning that they might need to survive in the next phase of their life?

The mother hen in us may want to help to free our chicks, but our chicks need to build their muscles, and the painful pecking might just save their lives.

 

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regrets-job-search-interview-mistakes-career1

You know you are getting old when you start wishing you could do parts of life differently.

I must be getting old …

Now I am not a person who regrets much of what I have done, or chosen, as I generally see all of the life choices I make as experiences that help me grow, develop and mature. Recently, though, I have been feeling two things, and they go together. One is that time is moving too quickly, and the other is that I wish I could ‘re-do’ some of my decisions in life so far.

As I am a woman of thirty-nine (with four years experience), I am aware that I am reaching the midpoint of my earthly existence. In other words, I need to make every year, every moment count. I cannot waste these years of good health on things that do not matter. I cannot waste a single day that I have the opportunity to do good, to love fully and to give all that I do all that is within me.

As I look at my three kids, I realize the clock of direct, daily parenting is ticking near the final hours. Our daughters are (almost) 21 and 16, and our son (almost) 14. In less than four years our family will all have graduated from high school (except for me, but I may just be a ‘lifer’). Our nest could potentially be empty a short four years from this month.

As I ponder these next years with our kids, I find myself with regrets …

I wish we had pushed the learning and development of the skills needed for the school sports available at their high school (or chosen a high school with sports that our family naturally enjoys), so that they could experience the joys of participating with their classmates. Sure they have all been part of community sports, but doing so with classmates creates a unique bond.

I wish we had started to encourage Christian summer camp experiences at younger ages. These are special places, and places of great spiritual growth and development.

If I could do it all over again, I would choose a smaller home (heck, does anyone really need anything bigger than a townhouse?) and take bigger, more experiential trips together as a family. To create memories … just us five … in beautiful and historical places around the world, sounds so much more preferable than bigger bedrooms.

As I approach the twenty-fourth anniversary of saying “I do” to hubby, I have a regret here too. I wish I had chosen to cherish him more. I wish I had not allowed myself to go to bed angry, and turn my stubborn back to him, on far too many occasions. I wish I had looked at him more as a gift that I need than a choice that I made. Simply, I wish I had loved him as I would also desire to be loved, rather than loving him as I thought he deserved … (aka the Golden Rule from Luke 6:31).

When I think of the lyrics to the song, “My Way” I remember these words …

“Regrets, I’ve had a few …

… For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught
To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows and did it my way!”

At this point in my life, I’d rather kneel, and do it God’s way.

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I asked God, through tears, how he could allow so much human suffering.
I really felt like he asked me the same thing … how can you allow it … ?”

logo

We have all done it … asked God “why” when the horrors (aka realities) of living in a sin-filled life and world stop us in our tracks, and everything right and good and … fair … disappears like the sun below the horizon.

When I heard and read the words at the top of this page, shared by Kristen Welch, I understood her feeling that God was asking her, how can you allow it … ? Kristen is a blogger (We Are That Family), a wife, a mom, a child of God. She is also the founder of Mercy House Kenya, a home in Kenya, Africa, that exists “to give hope, save babies, and give a second chance” (Maureen Owino).

This is a worthwhile video, not just of a great organization, worthy of prayerful and financial support, but also as a reminder that God calls … no requires something of us, as believer and follower of Him.

Kristen Welch is the founder of Mercy House, Maureen Owino is the executive director … hundreds and thousands of men, women and children have obeyed the call to love their neighbors.

“He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.
And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.”
Micah 6:8

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wordpress

Yikes! I almost forgot that I promised to post the most viewed post of the week every Saturday.

This week, Looking In All The Wrong Places was the, hand down, leader of the week.

Blessings on the coming week,

Carole

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My lack of technical abilities got the best of me yesterday morning.

My post, that had been scheduled for at 6am, published on time. Unfortunately, I made a technical malfunction, and I lost it … well I lost the last two thirds of it … AHHHHH!

Hubby entered the room as I ‘lost’ it (both the post and my temporary sanity) and he had to witness the carnage as the color left my face, I shrieked, and I saw in his eyes his thoughts, “I’ve got to FIX this, because if I don’t the dreaded waterworks will soon fall.”

After explaining my crises, he responded that he had already read it, and he saves EVERY blog post that I write (I’ve got a groupie!)!

Then I realized that, in my moment of desperation to have a published post for the day, I published the one intended for Friday, on Thursday. Then, thanks to my groupie hubby, I re-posted the one originally intended for Thursday. So, instead of one, there were two published yesterday.

All of that said, I had nothing in the works for today, and no words left to share (hum, so far the word count is 197 … so much for no words).

tumblr_mrxdlkZrCj1qhvdyho1_500So, in lieu of a word-filled post, below you will find a video.

Posted in mid-August, and viral to the tune of about four and a half million views (YouTube alone), Neil Hilborn recites his spoken word poem, OCD, at a poetry competition.

The International OC Foundation defines “Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) as a disorder of the brain and behavior. OCD causes severe anxiety in those affected. OCD involves both obsessions and compulsions that take a lot of time and get in the way of important activities the person values.”

In this dramatic poetic expression, Neil says that the tics are “an intentional performance, but they are also my actual tics. Sometimes in performance they become real.”

It truly is a beautiful, thought-provoking recitation. Be aware, there is one expletive used …

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SR09-Looking-for-Love

A sweet summer Saturday morning, writing in my chair alongside of hubby, a number of weeks ago, was upset by a Facebook post hubby read to me. This post led to a discussion about the consequences of our actions and choices.

Hubby had read a post of a peer who had recently left his family, for the open arms of another woman, and he was declaring how delightful his life is currently. Hubby and I then talked about his wife, now living essentially as a single mom, with dad breezing in and out of the lives of their kids, when he has time. We talked about his adolescent and teenage sons, left behind by their primary figure of manhood, responsibility and stability.

I have to say those ‘life is beautiful’ posts make me want to say, “give your head a shake!”

Does this dad (or mom, as the case may be) live in a bubble?

Does he (she) not see the carnage that they left behind?

Are their eyes sealed shut to the pain, hurt and rejection staring back at them from the fruits of their loins (their children)?

Do they really think that leaving their family for another will turn out any differently?

I know I can be rather a ‘ranter’ when it comes to this subject, and please know that I do not believe that people should stay in relationships where there is violence. But really, are those fleeing a relationship from the parent of their children aware of the consequences of their actions on the next generation? Do they realize how un-beautiful life might be for the ones they say they love the most (their children)?

Carl Pickhardt, Ph.D., author of The Everything Parents Guide Children Divorce, say that “divorce tends to intensify the (younger) child’s dependence and it tends to accelerate the adolescent’s independence; it often elicits a more regressive response in the child and a more aggressive response in the adolescent.” A younger child might regress into bed wetting, or have problems with separation, whereas the adolescent might do things (be disobedient experiment with alcohol, drugs, sexuality) that accelerate their experiences of development.

So what is he saying? Divorce tends to increase attention-seeking behaviors, in a variety of ways depending on the age of the child.

And why are they participating in attention-seeking behaviors? Because their world is being rocked up-side-down from it’s foundational pillars … their parents, and so they do whatever they can to seek attention, with the subconscious hope of bringing those pillars back together in the same place, at the same time, so that their world might come back together.

As I hear of and watch children and teens whose lives have been rocked by a decision by their parent/s to seek a “beautiful life” elsewhere, what I ache most for, other than their current pain, is their own relationships in the future. Not that they see relationships as temporary, but how do they go into a relationship able to trust their hearts to another, knowing that that trust was broken in their foundational homes? Are they ever free to believe another human who says, “I will love you forever?” That is a most tragic consequence!

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ec3909fd11d5b3288980f4c9d0f13304

“He is hopeless”

When I heard those three words, that’s when my heart beat went into hyper drive. The word hopeless was in regard to a dying, elderly man, who was refusing to acknowledge the forgiveness, the redemption, the hope that Christ provides.

Within minutes I was motioning for the mic during the sharing of prayer requests, at a Sunday morning worship service.

What followed was a shaky-voiced monologue about Christ being our hope, and that we have hope for those we love, who are without Christ, until their final Earthly breath.

My only thought as I sat back down was, “God, why didn’t you just smite me down right then and there?” (I love the word smite).

Sometimes my zeal is problematic, as I just can’t seem to stop before I have stuttered my way through a sharing time.

All that stuttering and bumbling and red-faced humiliation aside, the message, that I poorly communicated, is truer than true.

Romans 8 speaks loudly of hope:

“For in this hope we were saved.”

The hope it is speaking of is the hope that is available (to all) through the blood sacrifice of the son of God. This is a hope for our lives here on planet Earth, as well as hope after we leave this place of “bondage and decay” for an eternity of “freedom and glory”after our current bodies have died their final death.

The dying man … that ‘hopeless’ man …

We might be baffled at why this man would not accept the free gift of salvation for sins and redemption for his life … really, it seems a ‘no brainer’ to those of us who have made accepted such a gift. Maybe this man is not ready to give up control, or maybe (as I think is often the heart of the matter) this man does not feel forgivable. Maybe he has memories of his life that he cannot imagine ever being forgiven, and certainly not forgotten … because he cannot forget …

Often, we humans act as the judge and jury of our sins. Deciding our eternity, our hope, based on the degree of sin in our lives. In the words of hymn writer Fanny Crosby:

“To God be the glory, great things He hathdone;
So loved He the world that He gave us His Son,
Who yielded His life, an atonement for sin,
And opened the lifegate, that all may go in.

O perfect redemption, the purchase of blood,
To every believer, the promise of God;
The vilest offender who truly believes,
That moment from Jesus a pardon receives.”

There could be no greater hope, than the hope in the promise of God. And it is available to all, as long as we still have breath.

“And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in you.”
Psalm 39:7

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