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Screen Shot 2018-06-10 at 7.17.04 AMIt’s graduation season and that means that social media is abuzz with images of nicely dressed graduates and their families, all smiling for the camera … but we don’t show the images of doors slamming, threats made if marks don’t improve, or the student incapable of lifting their head after their face, their body, have been ridiculed on said social media, by one of their grad class.

We share our opinions on politics, saving the earth, and pipelines, yet fail to write our government officials of our concerns, drinking our smoothies and coffee in take out cups and driving petroleum-needy vehicles while using everyday products from make-up to purses to cameras to toothpaste … all made with petroleum.

We shower people with well wishes and greetings with we get notification of their birthday … even if we haven’t had any interaction since their last birthday.

We take images of our food, made at home or ordered in a restaurant that are picture perfect enough to create the mouth-watering effects that advertising companies aim for.

We post images of families, couples, besties all smiling and creating an image of joy, unity, health and perfection.

We document our travels, near and far, indications of our joy of life.

We post selfies of our smiling faces, alone, with friends, family, our pet.

We post quotes and images of people we agree with, yet fail to connect with people who love us … in real life.

We ‘like’ and comment on the posts of ‘friends’, yet find ourselves tongue-tied when we see those people in ‘real life’.

Though these public documentations of moments in our lives are lovely, in and of themselves, we all know that they are only a glimpse into a moment in time, not necessarily every moment in time.

These public posts are images but not necessarily reality.

This past week there were two famous people who died, at their own hands, driven by a mind that was (we presume) biochemically not healthy.

On my social media feeds I read quotes by individuals close to both Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain which indicated that recent interactions with them left them with the impression that they were happy, in a good space …

more fake news.

That which is seen is not always true. 

There are invisible things, feelings, thoughts, which can seep into one’s mind and muddle the soul. Those who have experienced the reality of such darkness know that words do not help others understand … it is only being there, sitting in the smothering shadows  that brings true compassion. It is only in sitting in those dark shadows with the suffering, that wisdom and comes.

In the past number of months, during a season of heartache in our family (and that has affected our entire family), we have been blessed by numerous private interactions, messages, cards, prayers and more. These have kept us afloat. Though sometimes it has seemed that only our nose is on the surface, drowning has been prevented. These individuals have sat with us in the dark shadows, encouraged us with their private concern and care.

May we all be gentle with each other, may we all be kind. May we not just ask, “how are you?” but “how are you, really?” May we not presume that because they seem happy and healthy, that is reality. For we are all dealing with the struggles of life.

“Therefore encourage one another
and build each other up,
just as in fact you are doing.”
1 Thessalonians 5:11

 

 

 

 

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On Saturday morning I noticed … something on my front step that made me bend down to investigate.

What greeted my eye was something I can only describe as grossly beautiful.

The largest moth I had ever seen, or imagined, just inches from my nose.

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I simply could not pull my eyes from it. It’s colours and texture soft and appealing. It’s body round and hair-covered, slightly reminiscent of a member of the creepy arachnida class (think spider … unless that gives you nightmares). It’s legs, also hair-covered, with distinctive leg parts (joints). It’s protruding antennae intricate and detailed.

Though a creepy vibe was definitely present, I couldn’t help by reach out and gently touch its furry body, it’s silky wings, it’s chubby legs.

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It was then that it seemed (my perspective) to relax, and stretched out it’s wings. It was huge! Five to six inches from tip to tip of it’s delicate, yet powerful wings. I had felt the strength of the wings against my finger as it open up. The tuft of hair on it’s back was at least a quarter of an inch in length. Reminding me of baby hair on an infant.

After posting an image on Instagram, a friend asked about any other spots on the lower wings, currently hidden under the top.

So, I went back and petted it again, only to be gifted with a view of vibrant and intricately-created eye spots, reminiscent of those of an owl.

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When I reported my finding to my friend, she informed me that what had come to visit was a # moth, a giant silk moth, common to North America. She also let me know that I should be thankful, for their life span is short, just days.

By this point I thought it probably needed it’s space, for I knew that, though I was pretty certain that it viewed me as a friend, I knew that it’s nature would see me as foe.

Numerous times throughout the day I would pop back out to see it, still resting on my step. Before going to bed that night, I checked, once again, to see it still on my step.

When I awoke the next morning, it was gone.

I looked all around my step, hoping to see it, safely protected in a tree. It was nowhere to be seen. My heart actually sank, as I wondered what it’s predators might be, and hoped that it had not become part of the food chain.

Later that day, my daughter sent me a photo (below). Our giant moth had not flown away, or became food for another creature, it simply found a new perch.

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Each day after that there will small, but distinguishable changes. The ‘hair’ on the top started to look lifeless, it’s wings seemed to look increasingly dried up and it’s responses became slowed when I would touch it.

The following Thursday morning, I peered up to the light to see if it was still there, and, indeed, it was, but when I reached up there was no movement, no fluttering of wings, no life.

Just days after it’s emergence from it’s cocoon, it had died. It’s lifespan short because it died of starvation.

You see, though, as a caterpillar it can eat up to 86,000 times it’s weight in food, this giant moth was not created with a mouth structure able to eat at all. So, once it emerges from it’s cocoon, it simply mates, lays the eggs and dies days later.

So, whats the point of that? Talk about a purposeless life! Why bother living at all?

Driving to work, pondering those questions asked of my moth visitor, the lyrics of a song interrupted my thoughts:

God of Your promise
You don’t speak in vain
No syllable empty or void
For once You have spoken
All nature and science
Follow the sound of Your voice
And as You speak
A hundred billion creatures catch Your breath
Evolving in pursuit of what You said
If it all reveals Your nature so will I …
I can see Your heart in everything You’ve done
Every part designed in a work of art called love …

That short-lived moth, had purpose. If it was only to be a visual reminder of the works of art that God created, it is enough. If it was only to praise it’s creator by living, by taking each ordained breath, than so will I.

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Screen Shot 2018-06-04 at 9.38.01 PMI went to Costco on a Sunday afternoon! I thought that going just an hour before closing would mean it wouldn’t be so chaotic … I was wrong.

It took forever to find an empty parking spot. Then I gave up and started watching for people who were walking out of the store, towards their vehicles. Finally I saw someone with just a few items in their cart, and stalked them back to their vehicle (pause, now just visualize this happening …

one frazzled lady, fleeing the box store, with not a cent in her bank account and her sanity barely intact. Another lady (that’s me) desperate to find a place to park her vehicle, driving slowly behind shopper lady …

I awaited my prey parking spot to become available (seriously, this lady took more time loading her car than I did filling my cart once I got into the store!), with my turn signal alerting everyone in that row that THAT SPOT WAS MINE … BACK OFF. Cars behind me started to form a line out of the row, and around the corner (I bet I was a Sunday blessing to those happy not-yet-shoppers).

Finally the lady lowered her trunk lid, and got herself into the driver’s seat.

I am pretty convinced that she returned texts, emails and updated her Twitter and Instagram accounts at this point. She may have touched up her make-up as well, it took her so long to put it into reverse.

Then, the moment I was anxiously awaiting, her reverse lights were on! She  s l o w l y  backed out toward my vehicle, and began to move forward. As she did another car was coming … this made me temporarily anxious that they might do a Fried Green Tomatoes  move and snag my spot. They didn’t. But they kept coming and ended up stopped … blocking my preordained parking spot.

The driver of the car that was blocking me looked not at all happy about being halted from leaving the Costco parking lot. They made hand gestures, were verbally and facially animated and honked their horn. What they did not know, was that their being stopped was because they stopped me from parking, which stopped the cars (plural) behind me from moving forward, which also stopped the cars from being able to exit the row, thus blocking them in.

As I eventually got parked and was walking into the store, I realized something … they were the cause of their own problem and they were completely unaware.

Then I found myself wondering, how often is that the case in my life? That the rut, struggle or frustration I am currently experiencing is caused by my own choices, actions or movements … without looking at how I might be contributing to the problem?

 

 

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Screen Shot 2018-06-02 at 7.53.43 AMWriter Jonathan Lockwood Huie has said, “unsolicited advice is always meddling.”

So … let me meddle a bit.

If I were to give two bits of advice to anyone who would listen, they would be:

  • search after God
  • surround yourself with people of various ages

I am not going to touch on the first, as … well, I hope that permeates all of my posts, all of my breaths.

It is the second that I am going to dare to meddle, and give my two cents worth.

From my experience of life, it is better fed into and I have more to learn and take away from when I spend time with people of various ages.

Our world and society seem to constantly be pushing people of similar thinking, similar living and similar ages together at the exclusion of all others. We have day care for babies, toddlers or preschoolers. We have elementary, middle and high schools. There are developments that are for the forty-five or fifty-five and up, exclusively. Bible studies for preteens, teens, college and career, young married, re-married, expecting, new parents, new moms, parents of teens, single adults, single parents, empty nesters, seniors, etc., etc., etc.

Though all of those have good rational for grouping together, as they are groups who have something in common, there is also good rational for groups, or circles of friends who do not all drive mini vans, eat avocados, do homework, vote for a certain political party or collect a retirement cheque, if you do too.

To spend time with those at the end of life is to see the perspective of one who knows what is a major problem, and what is a minor one. They have more of an eternal view, as they are not anticipating the next epic movie, they are anticipating their own epic move into eternity.

To spend time with people who have completed their career years is to spend time with people who are loving their time, enjoying their days, not taking a moment for granted.

To spend time with those whose nests are emptied is to be reminded that it is coming soon, and to make time for your children while they are under your roof.

To spend time with those in the throws of the career and family years is to be reminded … to pray for them! Those are the most challenging years to time, finances, energy and relationship to one’s spouse. We need to hold them up in prayer, that they do not get so busy doing that they forget to live and have life abundantly.

To spend time with those in the years of building family, home, career, hobbies is to be reminded that life doesn’t always go as expected. Those are the years of the building of faith, through successes and trials and failures and disappointments. The years of marriage, or not. Of having children, or not. Of purchasing a home, or not. Of scoring the dream job, or not.

To spend time with those in their early twenties is to be reminded of idealism. It is a season of life when we humans actually believe and make strides to change the world, globally and locally. It is a window that, those of us who are older, need to peer through more frequently than we do, so that we do not stop trying to do good, so that we do not become stagnant in how we live as part of a bigger community.

To spend time with adolescents and teens is to be reminded of what it is to feel awkward and under pressure. It is the season of development when striving begins. Striving to be seen, striving to be successful in school and extracurricular activities, striving to make others proud, striving to be perfect. They remind us how unnecessary the striving is, and the toll it takes on us.

To spend time with children is to be reminded to play. To just play and play hard. To awaken each day eager to learn, to do, to be. This is the season which the phrase joy of life is most visible.

Ah, and then the babes … they remind us of the miracle of life. That just breathing is a gift.

May our circles be filled with those who can tell us what is coming, as well as what has been. May we rub shoulders with those we can assist, and who can assist us. May our lives include those who remind us of the value of eternity, this moment, of a breath.

 

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Did you know that God is not a cosmic equivalent to a fairy godmother?

I know that …

yet I often live and speak as though I was completely unaware of that reality.

I live and think that my version of good is the same as God’s version. I sometimes think that I deserve something (though, in the moment I wouldn’t necessarily confess that was my thinking) and that because I need it God will provide it.

That sort of thinking creates a genie-like description of God,

but God is not a genie.

What God promises is not heath, wealth, perfect children and that we will always be loved by our friends, neighbours, co-workers or families.

God promises:

  • that we will be saved (Romans 10:9) … if we confess that Jesus is Lord and that God raised him from the dead
  • that we will not be tempted beyond what God has given us the ability to resist (1 Corinthians 10:13) … NO excuses
  • that we can have the presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives … if we repent and be baptized (Acts 2:38) … we have to repent!
  • that he will not leave us alone (Deuteronomy 31:6)

As I was typing those four promises, I realized that three of them are … conditional. They are promises that are predicated by our actions.

  • We are saved if we confess that Jesus is Lord and that God raised him from the dead.
  • we will not be tempted beyond what God has given us the ability to resist
  • we can have the Holy Spirit in our lives if we repent and be baptized

We first have to act in faith, then God will fulfill his part of the bargain.

The only promise that does not come with a condition is that God will not leave us alone.

In the human experience one of the most common fears is loneliness. Perhaps the greatest gift, the greatest promise that any can human being can receive is a promise to never leave us.

No fairy godmother, no genie in a bottle and all the magic that goes with them, no amount of money or security or even health can compare with knowing that there is one who will always be with us.

 

 

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Screen Shot 2018-05-28 at 11.11.06 PMWe sat around the table, me and my three.

We ate, we laughed, we argued, the dog joined in with his moans and groans, we recalled moments and memories from days gone by … yet alive in our shared memories.

My heart heavy, and light. My eyes … my eyes wet looking at these three, my three.

It was an evening of reality, an evening of dreams … dreams I thought might never become real, concrete, alive.

As we sat, and ate, and talked. As tales were told, as laughter flowed, as frustrations boiled … boiled over all over, messy, tense … real. I felt alive in the moment, alive with these three, borne from me, real and blunt, harsh and gracious.

For I would rather this icky and sticky, this dark and twisty reality, than one fine and flawless, sleek and shiny show  … without any one of you.

I got what I asked for … and more.

One, one child to birth, one child to raise … was the dream back in the dust-covered past.

From my prayer, God blessed … and blessed … and blessed again.

I dreamed of real. Not perfect, polished and poised. I dreamed of sincerity … red hot, dented and sometimes stinky sincerity. I dreamed of this thing called community, family.

I dreamed of a life where the truth would be laid before them, not stuffed into them. Where the answers were not spoon-fed, but the tools to find them were at their finger-tips, that the instructions that we gave them were saturated in a love for them that could only come from the One who is love.

And as I crawled into bed, head and heart heavy with shared pain, shared struggle, shared life, I realized that I got what I dreamed of … the real thing, not a picture-perfect facsimile.

And that Jimmy Durante song played in my mind, as sleep surrounded me,

“Fairy tales can come true
it can happen to you …
and if you should survive
to a hundred and five
look at all you’ll derive
just by being alive.”

 

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IMG_3475I have been snapping and sighing up a storm this spring.

With each tree in bud, each flower in bloom delight has entered my heart. In an way I feel a bit parental, as each plant has a story, a beginning, significance.

There are the many perennials, tubers and bulbs that I have received from the sweetest three older women from our church. Each of their sharing of their beauty came with stories as well.

There are the living gifts I received in the form of a Magnolia, Red Maple and Japanese Maple from my kids and hubby. They all now sit were they began (most plantings in my garden don’t have the benefit of sitting in one spot, as I keep moving them around, never letting them become truly comfortable).

There are the boxwoods along the driveway, each one began as a hard cutting, pushed into the soil, and left on their own to do what they do best … grow. And now they are all one to two feet tall.

The trees and bushes that I transplanted from their original locations … the Oregon grape, rhododendrons and the forsythias that delight me each early spring.

There are the strawberries, thriving in my vegetable garden, the grapes that line the fence to the pool, the chives that have delighted baked potatoes for years.

Everywhere I look, there is an abundance of beauty for the eyes, the nose and even the taste.

This garden is lovely to spend time in, but it has also been my place of refuge and sanctuary. It is where, like the garden of Gethsemane for Jesus, I can pray without interruption, without ceasing.

It has been my place of worship, and thanksgiving, and praise. The flowers have been fertilized by my sweat and tears. There is even one, secret place, in my garden where I can go when “my soul is overwhelmed with sorrow” (Matthew 26:38).

But my present garden, my little piece of sanctuary, can go with me, can go with each of us, wherever we live, work, trod. For the refreshment from a garden, comes from the gardener of all gardens, and, as the Song of Solomon says,

“you are a garden spring, A well of living waters”
(4:15)

It is the Spirit of God, dwelling in us, that brings our refreshemnt, that brings refreshment to those we interact with, allowing us to have and to be the conduit for refreshment, for growth.

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Screen Shot 2018-05-21 at 9.00.01 PMAs the purge of household goods continues in our preparations for our move, I have come to understand the phrase, less is more, in a new, fresh and true way.

We have sold and given away usable items, taken loads to thrift stores and to the local garbage facility. Much is packed, with empty boxes soon to be filled, filed and stored.

There are items we simply will no longer need in a townhouse, with a maintenance package. No longer will we need multiple hoses, tools or a lawn mower … thus, no longer will we spend weekends doing maintenance on a house or property.

As a trash can full of rakes, landscape fabric, shovels and other gardening items was picked up by a purchaser, last weekend, my smile widened.

Freedom is in the air!

All of a sudden (perhaps I am just a bit slow) I am realizing how our possessions have a way of possessing our time, us.

I am reminded of Romans 13:11, and I love how the Message records it:

“But make sure
that you don’t get so absorbed and exhausted

in taking care of all your day-by-day obligations
that you lose track of the time and doze off,
oblivious to God.” 

I can, to be sure, attest that I have met God in those obligations (more about that in a couple of days). I can certainly also attest to dozing off, after a day of gardening, house maintenance and yard work, oblivious to God.

As we prepare for our move I find myself eagerly anticipating smaller living with a bigger life.

Perhaps this is the change that we didn’t even know we wanted or needed.

 

 

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Screen Shot 2018-05-19 at 10.36.09 AMOne would have to have been living under a rock to have not been aware of the royal wedding of Prince Harry to Meghan Markle yesterday.

There was pomp and circumstance, movers and shakers in many arenas, delightful children being … children, spectacular music and decor, the exchange of rings and vows and even a rather evangelistic message of love and redemption.

The vows that were made were simple, traditional and sombre (serious). There were vows spoken by many before them, from the most prosperous to the lowest pauper. Perhaps that universality is what makes them as significant as the promises themselves, for the effort to keep such vows is as daunting for all, no matter their circumstance.

A vow is many things. It is a promise, but more than that it is a pledge, a commitment, a dedication, a pledge … a guarantee. When one makes such a vow, as one at a wedding, one is saying,

I will see this happens, until death.

Vows are not necessarily a mandatory custom of marriages all over the world. Nor are they legally binding. So, why say them?

Tradition is probably the main reason that many people still respond to or repeat in their wedding ceremonies. Yet, is that all that wedding vows are for those who repeat or speak them?

In the Bible, vows were addressed, by Moses,

“This is what the Lord commands:
When a man makes a vow to the Lord
or takes an oath to obligate himself by a pledge,
he must not break his word
but must do everything he said.”
Numbers 30:1-2

This message from God reminds us that the words we speak, whether to God or another promise or pledge, is a serious commitment, and must be honoured. Truly we could say that this scripture is the same message as the phrase, my word is my bond, which is “used to indicate that one will always do what one has promised to do” (Mirriam-Webster).

Our vows, spoken in a wedding ceremony, are not just words of tradition, but words of the will. We rise each day willing ourselves to fulfil them, in honour of our word.

May God grant Harry and Meghan, may God grant us all, strength and will to do what has been said … as long as they, as shall live.

 

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Screen Shot 2018-05-17 at 8.54.33 PMI bought a book recently. Not one off a bidding site, or Craigslist or at a thrift store. I bought this book, with not a hint of a bend in the spine. I even had to order and then wait over a week for it to arrive. It doesn’t smell dusty or musty. It was brand new …

So, why?

I had come across an article about a new book, by Barbara Brown Taylor. In here book, she says,

“this is not the life I planned …
and the central revelation in it for me –
that the call to serve God is first and last
the call to be fully human”

And so, the next day, I ordered the book.

And as I read a chapter, a page, a paragraph, a line … I sigh and groan, for I am reminded that I am a mere human, and that is all God has called me to be.

To be fully human is to feel fully all of the joys and sorrows of our human existence. It is to taste the sweet as well as the sour. It is to sometimes gain, and sometimes lose. As Brown-Taylor says, “loss is how we come to surrender our lives” … our fully human lives.

Her words remind me of the words of Jesus (Matthew 10:39):

“Whoever finds their life will lose it,
and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it.”

In the Expositor, Plato quotes a paradox from a lost book of Euripides:

“Who knows if life be not death, and death life ?”

We live, each day, knowing that the reality of being fully human means that we are frail, with Earthly bodies, with an end hear on Earth. To acknowledge our mortality is to begin to live with purpose, to live his purpose for our lives.

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
and naked I will depart.
The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away;
may the name of the LORD be praised.”
Job 1:21

 

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