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Archive for April, 2014

The eggs hidden around homes and gardens this weekend remind us of the rock in front of the tomb, and the hope of new life inside.

The joys of chocolate and a feast mark the end of the season of Lent that had many giving up, sacrificing, so as to share in the sacrifice of Jesus.

The rising sun of this morning reminds us of the rising SON that we celebrate, as believers in Christ.

 “He is not here; he has risen!

Declared the heavenly men in the tomb to the women who had come to the tomb with spices to cleanse the body that was gone (Luke 24:6).

Today we celebrate the risen Christ, the fulfillment of the prophets, the blood that was spilled to redeem our sin-soaked lives.

Today we celebrate that the grace of God.

The grace that is available to all, and is there in every high and low of life.

And it comes,

it came,

to us.

And it is still looking to find us, this Easter Sunday.

“From the creation to the cross,
There from the cross into eternity
Your grace finds me.”

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=orY_OWKTyfU

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Tomorrow we celebrate Easter Sunday!

The season of waiting and preparation ends as the sun rises on Easter Sunday, proclaiming the rising of the Son of God, many years ago.

Because of sacrifice of Friday, and the separation of Christ from His heavenly Father, we are READY for Sunday! Not because of anything that we have done, but because of the sacrifice of Christ.

There are still those who have not grasped what Easter is about, why we Christians hold dearly the image of a man on a cross. They have not seen that man from the cross emerge from the tome of their own sins, whole again.

The most viewed post of this week refers to this. In the post, Looking for Cameo Appearances, we are reminded that we are to share the news of Christ’s appearances. Really, we are to share that Christ is everywhere, in everything, and His purpose in life was to give us life that never ends, and, more than that, life today that is with Him.

Also this week :

A Good Good Friday

Mary’s Story of Pain

The Sixth and Final Week of Lent

Prayers Offered in Faith

Happy Easter!
Carole

 

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Today marks the day that Christians around the globe recognize and remember the sacrificial death of Jesus, leading to His foretold resurrection from the dead on Sunday.

This Good Friday observance is frequently remembered in a funeral-like way, with the recognition of the terrible death, darkness and quiet. It is a very direct opportunity for followers of Christ to come face to face with what Jesus did for us all.

There is another side to Good Friday …

it was

it is

Good!

The horrors of the day that we celebrate were trumped by His miraculous return from the grave on Sunday.

He overcame death!

And, because of Good Friday, we can all overcome death.

Good Friday always brings me back to the foundation, the basics of what I believe, and the song on the video, below, echos what I believe.

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I wrote the following during the Easter season of 2000, when our son was still a baby …

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.”
Luke 2:19

The pains are coming more often, and oh how they hurt. Do you feel what I am feeling?

Soon we will be in Bethlehem and you, my son, will be born;

in a strange inn, in a strange town.

I feel such a felling of impending loss my son, soon you will no longer be just mine, but all of Israel’s. I thrill with every last movement of you withing my womb.

I look so forward

to holding you

to looking into your eyes

to counting your tiny fingers and toes …

how quickly the pains are coming …

Hours Later …

Oh, the pain! Will this agony soon bring you into my eager arms?

This isn’t right. You will enter into this world with the touch of rough hay, the smell of animal dung and with no family to welcome you. How sorry I am that I could not deliver you into a softer, sweeter place.

The pains,

they are coming again …

Later …

The pain is all over now, my son.

You are so beautiful.

Your hands

your feet … ten perfect little fingers … ten perfect little toes …

so soft … but, they are not like mine, or any of my kin.

Your eyes look into mine as though you have always known me, as though you know my very heart … but, they are not like my eyes.

Your lips are as I imagine those of the angels … plump and pink, shaped like a heart. I wonder what words will be spoken from your lips. … but, they are not like mine.

Your nose is a like a piece of art, perfectly positioned in the center of your gentle face … but, it is not like mine.

Your shoulders look like those of a man, broad and strong. They will strengthen to hold your head up high … but, they are not like mine.

Oh, my beautiful little son, is any part of you from me? Was I simply just the vessel from which you came?

Oh course,

now I see,

you have my blood within you. As your heart beats, my blood rushes through your body, making you alive, and fully human.

Hush now, my beautiful baby, no need to cry, the pain is all over now …

Years Later …

Oh, the agony.

Why did they have to pierce a spear in you too? How could they do this to you?

YOur hands,

your feet …

they are pierced through with hard, ugly nails. Oh, my gently one!

Your eyes … they show your pain, they are wet wit your tears!

Oh, my beautiful son!

Your lips … they are so dry, and made worse by the vile those guards offered you! Oh the bear of my heart!

Your nose is covered with the perspiration of your body’s torture! Oh, my sweet one!

Your shoulders are weighed down by the weight of your body! My pride and joy!

And your blood … my blood … flowing our from all over your flesh! Oh my flesh and blood!

I agree with the words of your Heavenly Father,

“You are my son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:11)

You made me a mother, my first born.

May God end this suffering for you so that the pain might finally be over.

The day following the next Sabbath …

My ears still ache with the rumbling of the earth, only moments ago.

That ache is nothing compared to the ache of my heart, for the loss of my dear son. But that man, like the heavenly messenger I met many years ago, says that you are alive, that you have risen from your death.

There you are! You are whole again!

Your hands, your feet … they hold the story of your death …

but you are not dead, you are here, you are alive!

But you speak of leaving to go back to your Father …

please do not leave  … do not leave me … you are my son,

pleases come home with me?

But, you have not forgotten me. You spoke on that cruel cross,

to me,

that your beloved friend and follower, John, is now my son …

that I am to be cared for by him, as though I were his mother.

You are entrusting me and my care, my future survival, to the hands of the one you love most.

Oh, my beautiful gift of a son … from the very hands of God.

As my heart beats, you will always be the blood the flows through my veins.

Ah!

Now there is no more sorrow , no more sadness, no more pain.

“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes;
and there shall be no more death,
neither sorrow, nor crying,
neither shall there be any more pain:
for the former things are passed away.
Revelation 21:4

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We who have given up, in sharing the sacrifice of Christ, this season of Lent have almost made it to the finish line.

Five weeks ago I expected to be drooling this week in anticipation of having cream in my morning coffee again …

but, something has happened …

I don’t miss is anymore.

Four weeks ago I realized that doing anything for love was more difficult than I ever imagined possible.

Three weeks ago I was convicted to not make fun of people stumbling from their pedestals, but to pray for them.

Two weeks ago I realized that Lent had nothing to do with my sacrifice.

One week ago I understood the weight of the sacrifice of Christ, knowing that He was doing for all … those who would accept the gift, and those who would spit on it.

Week 1 of Lent I shared of my giving up of something that hurt.

Week 2 of Lent I shared of willingness to do anything for love.

Week 3 of Lent I shared of laying ourselves aside to pray for others.

Week 4 of Lent I shared of how it is not about my sacrifice.

Week 5 of Lent I shared of how Christ sacrificed, for all! The really, really evil and the not so bad.

And now, the final week of Lent.

By now, if you have sacrificed something for this season, you might be craving to resume your habit, your favorite thing, your desired spice of life.

But I think we are in for a surprise this coming Sunday, when our season of sacrifice turns to feasting and celebration.

I think that when we are faced with that thing we have missed, we will discover that it is not as good as we remember it to be. I think that we will discover that, whatever ‘it’ is, it no longer feeds our craving as it once did.

There is only one thing that satisfies the craving …

the craving for hope …

that Lent has reminded us we crave for most.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 1 Peter 1:3-5

 

 

 

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“And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up. If they have sinned, they will be forgiven.”
James 5:15

This year I have spending my work days primarily in a grade eight classroom, but yesterday I had the opportunity to hang out in a grade six class, for the opening of the day and devotions.

There is a huge developmental leap from grade six to grade eight. The best way to describe this development is metamorphosis. Like a furry caterpillar who goes to sleep in a cocoon, then emerges a winged butterfly, a student enters middle school in grade six a child, and emerges at the end of grade eight an adult in process.

This developmental stage both baffles and fills me with wonder.

But yesterday, it was the opening of the morning, the start of the day with devotions and prayer that made me realize how very understated the beauty of the caterpillar is in our world, who longs for the emergence of the butterfly.

The teacher had a section of the board already filled with prayer requests and praises, from previous days.

When she asked if there were any updates on the prayer requests listed on the board, or new ones, hands went up all over the room. The students eagerly, confidently shared their stories of surgeries, of travel of a dog about to have puppies. There was never eyes darting in fear that their request would be made fun of, never a snicker or a giggle from anyone.

Once their stories were told, the teacher began to pray, then paused …

one by one by one

their early adolescent voices raised, their prayers prayed.

The confidence, the faith, with which they lay their requests at the feet of Jesus was awe-inspiring, wonder-filled.

And my prayer request …

that the ‘awakening’ of emerging from their cocoon in the next few years to come, would not steal their faith.

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Last night my son and I went to see the Marvel superhero movie, Captain America. I was at least as (and maybe more) excited to see it as my son was, and it did not disappoint!

In the midst of watching it, I got elbowed, then hot air blowing in my ear, as my son said excitedly, “that’s Stan Lee.”

To which I replied, “who is Stan Lee?”

I could feel ‘the look’ of disdain being emitted from my sons eyes.

Then I remembered, Stan Lee is, among other things, the creator or co-creator or writer of many Marvel comics. According to Wikipedia, “Lee … led the expansion of Marvel Comics from a small division of a publishing house to a large multimedia corporation.”

From Spider-man, to The Incredible Hulk, to The Avengers, to Thor to Captain America (and more), Lee has appeared in Marvel major motion pictures since about 2000. He has also appeared in comic books, and narrated comic television programs.

Truly, the hunt for this creator makes his creations even more interesting, more personal. He has not only placed his name on what he has created, but he also places himself within it.

The only thing is, unless you are really, really clever at noticing this familiar face in minuscule cameo appearances, or someone else has to tell you about it, as was the case for me.

Outside of Marvel comics, there is a creator of our lives, and he too makes appearances.

When we know of God as our Creator, we look for him in the everyday events of our lives. This seeking leads us to see Him in the highs and lows of life. The knowledge of His hand in our creation, and of His presence in our very beings gives us purpose, security and hope.

The thing is, those of us who know of Him need to share that news of His appearances in life to those who are, as of yet, unaware of His cameos. So that, they too, might know to look for Him.

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I am so thankful for spring, with the dawn chorus of birds every morning I open the door for the dog, the colors of flowers blooming in the garden and on the trees, the bright sunshine, the warmer and longer days.

Thanks is something that we need to practice every day of our lives, to be able to live fully!

Sometimes, though, there are times When Thanks Seems Inadequate, and that was the most viewed post of this week.

Also this week :

How to Change Other Peoples Kids
(a beautiful lesson I learned)

Week Five of Lent
(how does Christ deal with evil people?)

Parenting from the Wings
(what I learned about parenting from the theater)

Want to Giggle in Wonder
(a little awe and wonder to make us smile)

Blessings to you this day,
Carole

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I love expressions

of joy

of excitement

of wonder.

So when I saw the video (below) of An and Ria’s first flight, I was in a wonder-filled state!

Two Dutch grandmas, An and Ria, were given the opportunity of experiencing something neither had ever done before … a first time flying in an airplane.

An, a bit more outwardly nervous, tried out a flight simulator to prepare, while adventurous Ria was introduced to roller coasters as her preparation.

They were given a tablet with instruction of how to use it, as well.

When the two arrived at the airport, they had their first meeting.

Every step from then on was one of awe and wonder, like watching a toddler discover his or her world.

The highlights, for me, were the roller coaster, the flight simulator, their meeting, take off, their looking out the windows, the after flight online conversation between An and her husband, and the beach scene.

So, if you are looking for a little awe and wonder, check out their video (below).

http://www.vodafone.com/content/vodafone-firsts/home/nans-on-a-plane.html

“He who can no longer pause to wonder
and stand rapt in awe,
is as good as dead; his eyes are closed.”

Albert Einstein

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Monday night, as the lights dimmed in the gymnasium-turned-theater, I prayed again, for the millionth time,

“please let this be a positive experience for him.”

And I opened my eyes to the spotlight on my son.

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When the night was over …

when we arrived home, all smiling from ear to ear …

when hydration and satiation were achieved …

when he was sleeping in his bed …

I thought of how this,

this stage experience for our son,

was a microcosm for mothering, for parenting.

When our son got a one line part in the play we were delighted for him, and we shared in his excitement.

  • Each and every success our children have we feel in our parental, parallel universe.

His commitment was great! Attending every practice without a reminder from me.

  • When our kids want something, really want it, they will do what needs to be done.

When our son was offered a larger part, we felt the mixed emotions of sharing in his excitement as well as fear for the expectations that would be upon him.

  • From jobs, to college, to travel, to marriage … all great opportunities for our kids, and all come with greater expectations.

When I offered to help with lines, I was told it was not needed, that all was “fine” (the new, nasty four-letter ‘f’ word in our house).

  • Sometimes our kids do not want, do not need our help … even when we ‘need’ to help.

That night, that first presentation night, my heart was pounding, as though I was the one waiting in the wings …

And that is the reality of parenting …

With each act of giving them control of their choices, their actions, their successes and failures …

Our mother-hearts are still tied by an invisible umbilical cord.

And, as they emerge from the wings onto the stage of life, our hearts walk with them …

silently whispering into their hearts

“you can do it”

while lifting them up to God in prayer, that His grace and protection might be on them.

And, like in the play our son was performing, The Outsiders, don’t we all have

Great Expectations that they would simply,

Stay Golden …

 

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