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Friday morning I experienced a minor mental breakdown, as I turned my back on the mess to grab a quick shower in preparation for a wedding later that day.

My kitchen and dining room floors were covered with various pieces of furniture, in various stages of refinishing.

My kitchen countertops littered with cans of paint, brushes, rollers, sandpaper and … dirt.

My fingernails painted with latex and my hair frosted with sand dust.

“I need the break part of Spring Break!” I muttered under my breath.

It was probably not wise to take on a furniture refinishing job over Spring Break, when my usual workshop (the garage) is too cool for painting and waxing. There is no escaping the work when it’s strewn all over ones kitchen.

Now, just two days later, I am sitting with a warm mug in my cozy chair. Though the sun is in hiding I can see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. The last of the furniture is primed, and by day’s end, the paint cans will go back onto their shelves in the garage. Maybe, just maybe I will even get the joy of washing up the floors and countertops before climbing into bed tonight!

Though the mess of refinishing furniture can drive me a bit batty, the process of creating (or re-creating, as is more accurate in my case) feeds my soul like little else. This process of taking dated, old and uninspiring furniture though the process of sanding, filling, priming, painting, waxing, etc., then seeing the final result. It is as though it is a new piece of furniture. It is as though it has been made new again.

Ah, yes, there is mess … but the result reminds me the blood, sweat and, yes, even tears are part of the re-birthing process.

Creating is a most beautiful labor of love.

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ,
the new creation has come:
The old has gone, the new is here!”
2 Corinthians 5:17

 

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iron-sharpens-iron

A coffee date to discuss ‘mom stuff’ left me feeling … sharpened.

Proverbs 27:17 tells us,

“as iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” 

As I sat and listened to her speak, I heard the words, the voice, the language of my heart.

We talked about the wild and wonderful realities of parenthood, and life. We discussed our greatest struggles and our blessings. We laughed, agonized and were very real with each other.

It was that, being very real with each other, that sharpened my focus.

It is hard to make and create relationships that are real, that any topic can be discussed, and that it can be discussed honestly. To listen to someone speak, and know that you do not have to be guarded with your response is a most fulfilling experience.

To know that there is no elephant standing in the room … that is intimacy.

Did I mention that we had never spoken, beyond common greetings?

As I drove away from the coffee shop, I felt that I had been sharpened, that what is most important in my heart had been polished off, made more visible to my own eyes.

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Sometimes I revert back into my childhood … okay, often, often I revert back into my childhood.

As the days slowly moved along last week, I could feel it approaching like a freight train … the coming of Spring Break.

My days would alter between fatigue and strong indicators of ADHD. It was like the nesting phase of a pregnancy, when a woman gets restless in body and mind and so keeps herself busy with (often over-the-top) preparations for what is to come.

It was not a time of unproductively, but of distractibility, anticipation and restlessness.

My mind was dreaming of one thing … rest.

So, how did I spend my first day of rest? Well, I sanded a dresser of course.

It’s a dresser I have been hired to paint, and I couldn’t wait to get at it. Actually, I have a dresser, a dining table and a corner shelf that are part of that order. I also have three chairs, a bed table and maybe even more furniture that I hope to refinish over the break.

Rest?

Ah, yes. That is rest for me. It is rest for my soul.

To have the freedom to utilize the creative side of my brain.

To work to the silence of the space.

To hear only the voice of God.

To see transformation occur at my hands.

This is rest for my restless soul.

“Yes, my soul, find rest in God;
my hope comes from him.
Truly he is my rock and my salvation;
he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.
My salvation and my honor depend on God;
he is my mighty rock, my refuge.
Trust in him at all times, you people;
pour out your hearts to him,
for God is our refuge.”
Psalm 62:5-8

 

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There is something about milestones that makes one ponder,

am I really living?

Obviously if one is inhaling and exhaling, they are living, but this sort of pondering goes beyond the physical. It goes to a sense of fulfillment, of purpose.

As hubby and I approach the phase of life known as the empty nest, we are both starting to anticipate the possibilities that this freedom-phase of life might afford (beyond walking around the house in our knickers).

I am now realizing that having had our children when we were still young has delightful benefits, as we can expect to enjoy many years of health and energy together (acknowledging that health is not ever a guarantee).

We can look towards travel, courses or skills we are interested learning, missions trips, a smaller home, and decisions made at the last moment.

This new phase of life, which seems to be peeking at me more each day, would seem to be less about surviving, and more about thriving.

This is not because our children were like a noose around our necks … not at all! But because we will have passed the busy, busy years of homework, extracurricular activities, and driving enough to make an Uber driver feel bored. The days of enormous food bills, excessive use of hot water (showers), clothing purchases and a house big enough to house a family of five (plus) are coming to an end.

But …

our days are not guaranteed.

Even though we are told in the Bible, many times, that we have about seventy years (or eighty if we are strong), we all know that what is normative is not necessarily a promise for all.

We all know of people whose lives have been cut short, or who have experienced disease or disability that changed the course of their lives.

And, through all the dreaming and planning for a new phase in life …

“I’m asking God for one thing,
only one thing:
To live with him in his house
my whole life long.
I’ll contemplate his beauty;
I’ll study at his feet.
That’s the only quiet, secure place
in a noisy world,
The perfect getaway,
far from the buzz of traffic.”
Psalm 27:4-5

For this is really living, and it is available to us all, at any stage in our lives.

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setufree-title

I LOVE to be proven wrong … especially when it means that something better than I had imagined is the truth.

There was a day, last week, when I was delightfully wrong.

A student came up to me and asked if he could interview his mom for a project. At this point, two things went through my mind … one I thought, and the other I spoke.

The one I thought, but didn’t say was, “what the heck have you been doing for the month you have had to work on this project?”

The one I thought-through, and actually voiced was, “of course, but you do realize you will have to be ready to present your project by no later than next Tuesday?”

He nodded his head, in full confidence … I smiled, turned my back and rolled my eyes, as I walked down the hallway, doubtful.

Two days later, he raised his hand and said he would be ready to present.

I felt nauseous … very nauseous.

You see, when we, as Educational Assistants, walk through the educational process with a student, their assignments becomes our assignments. Their successes or failures can easily become our successes and failures.

So he stood up, and began to share, not just what he discovered by interviewing his mom, but a fantastic slide show, and his own story about the diagnosis that was his, and how it has affected his life.

Now, this could sound sad, except that he credited his mom (and dad) for helping him to overcome the struggles he was born into and with. He expressed thanks for giving him, not only a home, but a family and hope for the future.

He not only revealed truth, but told how the truth of the Bible had set him free, through the love and devotion of his parents who chose to live out the love of God, by choosing to love and care for him.

I have known this young man for about eight years. I remember (as his peers who heard his presentation) him cowering under a desk, sobbing. I remember his fears, his lack of confidence in his abilities.

But this day, a brave and confident young man, got up in front of his peers, and told the truth about his life.

And freedom reigned.

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Our dog is the best indicator that the doorbell is about to ring. Heck, some days, he is the best indicator that the doorbell of any house on our block is about to ring!

And so, our barking doorbell started as lights from a vehicle drifted into our living room.

When the door opened people poured in.

It was sometime mid evening, hubby had just gotten home after a day of church, meetings and a visit to the hospital … after a Saturday at meetings that were a source of stress and disappointment.

Aka, people pouring into the house were not the desired end to the weekend.

After they all sat down, they revealed their intent for coming to our house … they wanted to pray for us.

Five individuals who vary in age from seventeen to early thirties. Five peers of our own kids, who have attended youth group as a participant, or as a leader along with them. Five millennials (well, maybe except for the youngest) … aka the generation who gets the most grief for having grown up receiving participant ribbons.

I was floored!

We chatted for an hour or more, enjoying their companionship, laughter and sharing of their lives with us.

Then they said, lets pray.

And they did, and it was sweet and meaningful and powerful.

At the time, I didn’t have the words that evening to express my thanks, other than “thanks” because I was so shocked. Now I sit here and still have no words, except thanks.

I can tell you how I felt, simply wowed. Wowed that they would think to come to our house to pray for us. Wowed by their confidence to follow through. Wowed that they would come and spend time chatting with us. Wowed by their wisdom. Wowed by the maturity with which they prayed. Wowed by their offering to us. Wowed that they received a calling and they did it.

They will never know how humbled we feel, because of their offering to us.

We are blessed.

“(if) my people, my God-defined people, respond by humbling themselves, praying, seeking my presence, and turning their backs on their wicked lives, I’ll be there ready for you: I’ll listen from heaven, forgive their sins, and restore their land to health.” 2 Chronicles 7:14 The Message

 

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look

I awoke, this morning, to my world being coated with fresh fallen snow.

And I smiled.

Though I am a snow-lover, I am now ready for signs of spring, but snow never fails to raise the corners of my lips, to raise the shadows from within.

As I smiled my mind began reciting Matthew 28:20:

lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. Amen.”

The word, lo stayed in my mind, and I had to look it up. According to dictionary.com, lo means look, or see. It is delivered with excitement, importance.

And I looked out the window, and smiled, yet again.

The verse, above, is part of the Great Commission, when Jesus was instructing his disciples  on their job description as his followers, specifically after he was gone from them. Remember, this was the resurrected Jesus, so there was a bit of doubt … though, I bet they were riveted at the same time … you wouldn’t have to say LO (look) twice to me!

Through his Spirit, he is always near, all we need to do is look, open our eyes to see his presence in our days.

So simple, yet so complex at the same time.

“Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely lo I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Matthew 28:16-20

 

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Groaning

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“We know that the whole creation has been groaning …
right up to the present time.”
Romans 8:22

The groans of creation are the result of the human fall in the garden of Eden.

Every bit of the world we live in, and all that is living in it, groan “as we wait eagerly for … the redemption of our bodies” (v.23).

I wonder if earthquakes, floods and droughts are the groans of our physical Earth?

I wonder if illness, injury and death are the groans of Earth’s living things?

I wonder if loneliness, hurt and worry are the groans of our human race?

But, then there are other groans:

“the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans”
Romans 8:26b

This groaning of the Spirit does not sound so much like the effects of the fall, so much as accommodation for them. This is the evidence of grace for the fallen. When we are weighted down by the myriad of hurts, sadness, loneliness and anxiety to the point where we have no words left, even for God, the Spirit steps in and wordlessly groans our thoughts and feelings to our Creator. He hears our heart’s cries, and interprets our sorrow to our father, interceding for us.

When your sorrow slaps it’s hand across your lips, groan from the deepest cavern in your heart, and the Spirit will whisper your hearts cry into the very ear of God.

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I remember vividly reading the verse (to the left) on a wall hanging at37e122fc49f1ec1dcfaa58700744f78b the grandmother’s house. It was something that I read so frequently that it became a game to see how much of it I could read (when I was just learning to read) to how much of it I could recite by memory. I read it every time I was sitting in her bathroom.

The words and images that we see as a child are burned into, not only our memories, but also our thinking. That is why it is so important that young children are nurtured with affirming, creative and educational messages, both directly and indirectly in their homes, schools and churches.

Lately a childhood song keeps echoing in my mind, at varying times in my days.

“Oh be careful little eyes what you see …
Oh be careful little ears what you hear …
Oh be careful little hands what you touch …
Oh be careful little feet where you go … 
Oh be careful little mouth what you say …”

A song to remind us think about what we allow ourselves to see, hear, touch, say and where we go, before we do the action.

The song reminds me of Ephesians 5:1-20, which starts with “follow God’s example … and walk in the way of love …” (v. 1), and ends with “so watch your step. Use your head. Make the most of every chance you get. These are desperate times! Don’t live carelessly, unthinkingly. Make sure you understand what the Master wants” (v. 16-17).

In the middle are great reminders of how to think about the things we do, the places we go, the words we say and the people we are with, all through the lens of the light of God.

It kinda makes me wonder why this song has been in my thoughts lately. Maybe I need to evaluate how I am spending my time.

“Wake up from your sleep,
Climb out of your coffins;
Christ will show you the light!”
Ephesians 5:14

 

 

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without-rain-nothing-grows-inspirational-quote-about-strength-2

It is early morning, and I am sitting in my cozy chair, with only the light from my deck, and my computer screen. I glance out the window to the beauty of the recent snowfalls. The rain is falling steadily, and the only other sound is my wonder dog, snoring in the chair beside me. I have just received notice that school/work is cancelled due to dangerous road conditions. I am at peace.

But, with the rain falling, I know that dark, wet, slushy storms are just around the corner.

In our neck of the Pacific Northwest woods, some would say that the rain is the signal that the storms are coming to an end. Snowfall amounts have been adding up to record-breaking totals for five days straight.

For me, the snow is not a storm, for I have learned to live with snow, to move with snow … which means to slow down and to embrace the snow.

But the rain … I still wrestle with the rain.

When the rains fall, day after day after day, there is a weight that begins to descend that leads me to a dark and soul-lamenting that I cannot choose to leave … I have to ride the storm, and wait for it to pass.

I have been learning, in the last few years, to approach this dreaded season differently, as I have been leaning in to lament.

Through this process, I have been learning not to fear the ‘wet and dark season’ but worshipping through it. In essence I have been practising what the author (Jeremiah?) of Lamentations has shared.

It is interesting that the Hebrew word for the book means “how” and the Greek translation of the title means “lament”. I, in my grand theological studies (tongue in cheek) like to think of the book of Lamentations as meaning, how to lament.

In this book, I see great lamenting, being very real before God (heck, he knows how we feel anyway, we might as well admit it when we feel we are defeated, crushed, in the pit). But, I also see hope (3:22-25):

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”
The Lord is good to those who wait for him,
to the soul who seeks him.”

Lamenting does not only happen in the book of Lamentations.

There are numerous Psalms (aka sacred songs) in which the author is lamenting, weeping, sorrow filled, and they are usually directed specifically to God. My favourite is Psalm 13, which begins with “How long, Lord?” and ends with “But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to me.”

I recently saw this quote (below), which was like a thesis statement for me in my pursuit of understanding lamenting:

“The whole point of lamentation is you don’t use your pain as an excuse not to worship; you actually take your pain and you bring it with you before the alter, and you stand there with your pain and you say, “Though all this is true, yet I will rejoice in You!” It is the highest form of worship that exists.” Graham Cooke

And so, today, as I watch the rains fall, I will lament, and I will praise God, for he is faithful.

In practising praise in the midst of my lament of rain, I am growing a practise that I pray will hold me up when the greater storms of life descend, and my response will be to lean in to lament, and to continue to worship God, for he is faithful.

 

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