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So, what’s your main thing?

You know, the thing that you love above all else?

We all have a main thing, a love greater than all else.

Exodus 20:3 tells us:

“You shall have no other gods before me”

Are our main things like gods in our lives?

Are they the main things in our hearts?

What if they ceased to exist, to live? Could we carry on with just the love of God?

I ask myself these questions sometimes … wondering if the things, the ones, that I love most have become idols in my heart and mind. I wonder if I have elevated them above my reliance on the one who made me. I wonder if I love him above all else.

As I was pondering my God, my loves, my heart, I sought out what Jesus had to say about this first commandment, for, though he does not retract from the Old Testament commandments, he does provide further clarification (Mark 12:30)

Love the Lord your God
with all your heart
and with all your soul
and with all your mind
and with all your strength.

It would seem that whereas the OT commandment sounds very much like a rule, the NT version would seem to sound sound like an act of choice (can love ever be anything but a choice?). To love with heart, soul, mind and strength is to love with every part of us, who we are.

Love is a pretty big deal in the ministry of Jesus. After expressing the greatest commandment (above) he left us with one additional commandment,

You shall love your neighbor as yourself.

They really go together, for in our choosing to love God, we seek to be like him and there is no greater expression of our love for him than to love others.

Now back to the beginning … our main thing?

I think I have come to realize that God has to be my main thing. That I have to love him above all else, not just as a security blanket that keeps me safe for all eternity, but because I cannot love anyone else well if I do not first dwell in my love for my Creator. For it is in loving him that I am able to love others.

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Progress,

From Latin …

pro – ‘forward’

gradi – ‘to walk’

progress … to walk forward.

We walk … forward

Taking in the sights, the smells, the sounds, the tastes, touches.

We take in as we walk forward.

But, to really walk forward is to pause with those senses,

to see as far as the eye can see,

to stop and smell the roses,

to be so quiet as to hear a pin drop,

to eat and know when it tastes like more,

to know the comfort of a soft touch.

Slowly walking forward,

to what lies ahead.

Not for grandiose destinations.

Not for

more,

bigger,

fame,

but simply to progress,

simply to be moving …

forward.

simply because walking forward is better.

better than moving back,

better than staying put.

progress is walking …

it is physical,

takes effort …

so. much. effort.

Sometimes it seems that we do not move forward, do not progress.

Yet, as our feet ache,

as our wheels spin,

our hard efforts propel us

when our feet cannot.

Progress …

tiny, sometime indiscernible, movements forward.

We can do this!

because we are making progress.

“Beautiful things take time. This is true for so many things.
Progress goes beyond what is easily noticeable or seen.
As sure as the tree bears fruit, stay in the light and be patient.

You will grow, too.”
Morgan Harper Nichols

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When one thinks of creative expressionists one does not think of ritual or routine. Impulsivity, openness, flexibility … those are more closely associated descriptors of creatives.

Yet, anyone doing creative work does so with routines that often go unnoticed by the casual observer, whose gaze is focused far more on the creation that the creator.

Maya Angelou would get a hotel room when she was writing. “I have a bedroom, with a bed, a table, and a bath. I have Roget’s Thesaurus, a dictionary, and the Bible. Usually a deck of cards and some crossword puzzles.”

George Bernard Shaw had a writing hut constructed on a turntable, so as to follow the suns light as he wrote. It contained a typewrite, heater, food, a bed and a phone in case of emergency. (Roald Dahl and poet Dylan Thomas had writing sheds as well).

Virginia Woolf, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Charles Dickens, comic writer Stan Lee and Ernest Hemingway all wrote standing up.

JK Rowling wrote often in cafes.

Ann Voskamp writes in a 10-by10 foot cabin along a cornfield.

Jane Austen was the queen of simplicity, requiring only a desk, paper, quill and ink.

Though not all, it would appear that most of the aforementioned creatives seek or sought quiet, a solitary, silent place

where the audible and visual
noise of the world
could be eclipsed
by the voice inside.

Our human creativity originates in our DNA, for we create from the genetic material that we have inherited, from our Creator (father) God. Our creativity is an expression of his ability, his beauty, that we can be creative within the uniqueness of the creativity he placed within each one of us.

Then God said, “Let us make humankind in our image, in our likeness”
-Genesis 1:26

As his creation, we are image-bearers of the God of creation. Within our creation we bear the image of God the father, but also the Son (Jesus) and the Holy Spirit, for we are made in “our image, our likeness.” So when creativity flows from us our need to be still, be silent makes such sense.

Silence is the catalyst for hearing the Holy Spirit within us. When it is his voice we listen to, we create from the riches of our Creator, from the greatest story ever told.

“Everything that’s created comes out of silence. Your thoughts emerge from the nothingness of silence. Your words come out of this void. Your very essence emerged from emptiness. All creativity requires some stillness.”

Wayne Dyer

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Isn’t it amazing how little things can take you off in search of something you didn’t even know you were looking for?

A simple social media post had me preoccupied and searching the other day … for over an hour.

The post is one I have seen a few times lately. An image of a person, in their garden, through a window, walking toward their house. What follows is a story, written by the adult child of that person, or their widow/widower. They share that the image is one taken by Google or Apple maps. These images are taken in the past, a year, or two or more ago. The person posting writes how they saved the image, for one day, they know, the address will be updated with a new image … and their loved one will not be in the updated image.

What they have saved is a live version,
of one who is no longer
in the window, the garden.

Well, my curiosity was peeked.

I started on my phone. Immediately finding an image of my childhood home, in summer, in the not too distant past. The care was still parked. The front garden full of growing activity.

Then I noticed the doors to the storage shed opened. I zoomed in for a closer look. The Rollator to the right of the doors. This was no longer a job for my phone. The laptop was opened, the search continued. I moved to look from different angles, zoomed in and out, checked out satellite views, even trying to peer into the back of the property from the street and through the houses behind.

Nothing.

I switched to another mapping website, to no avail.

Though I was not seeking, not needing to see my dad that day, the possibility of a live image of him had built up such a great hope of that possibility. After seeking unsuccessfully, I was rather disappointed. To only have had the opportunity to see him living again. To have had the joy of seeing him and smiling.

Deep down inside
we always seek
for our departed loved ones.
-Munia Khan

Then I remembered a video that I have, from my last visit home. He took my daughter and I to the maple sugar woods. Though I could not find the video, I could hear his voice, after tasting the syrup on the cold snow, “some good” with that characteristic sparkle in his eye.

I guess that once a loved one no longer lives and breathes life’s breath, those who loved are simply still seeking signs of life.

If I could only see you
And once more feel your touch.

Yes, you’ve just walked on ahead of me
Don’t worry I’ll be fine

But now and then I swear I feel
Your hand slip into mine.

-Joyce Grenfell

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It’s early … faint with infrequent songs from the birds.

The sun, though still hidden behind a structure, providing shadowy light.

Dampness … on the chairs, the table, the leaves of the plants and trees, from the early morning rains.

Early Sunday morning.

The Sabbath.

The day of rest.

Since the arrival of the Pandemic, Sundays have been different. Sabbath has been different.

Worship has, largely, not been experienced in church buildings, not with congregations, nor large worship bands, nor communion under one roof. The Sabbath has been Sunday mornings and Saturday afternoons and Tuesday evenings. The Sabbath has been spent on the sofa with a cuppa, a pouch or two and pajamas. It has been spent on hikes in the mountains, over a book on the patio, making a puzzle on the table, listening to a podcast, talking to a long lost friend. Worship has been through the work of the hands of the Creator, in nature, or as we get to know our neighbors, or as we take someone a meal, or send money to an agency who brings His love to others, or share an online worship service with others who would not darken the door of a church.

We are the church.

We carry His message wherever we go.

Worship flows from us … like a the first morning …

the birds. the light. the rains.

All worshipping together …

because they just can’t not worship,

because we just can’t not worship.

Sunday morning has broken,

and just like that first morning, His creation (us included) are worshipping Him.

This is life.

This is Sabbath rest.

Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the world

Sweet the rains new fall, sunlit from Heaven
Like the first dewfall on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where His feet pass

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God’s recreation of the new day
-Eleanor Farjeon

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It was overwhelming. Loving. Thoughtful. Lavish. Generous. Openhanded.

During a time of healing, my co-workers, colleagues, friends lavished love on my regularly. Each day I received texts with well wishes, updates on their lives, silly things, stories of students and queries as to how I was doing. Each week was a drop-off … flowers, meals, a puzzle, cards (even hand made ones), treats, soaps and more. They overwhelmed me with their thoughtfulness, their loving acts and hearts.

They lavished their love on me …

And that is our calling. Love is what we are … because we have been loved by the Father, we are to love others. My sweet friends showed this God-love so abundantly. They went so far beyond, beyond what I need, beyond what I deserve.

This is God-love … going beyond what we deserve.

His love exceeds expectation, it is extravagant.

Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God … We love because he first loved us. Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen. And he has given us this command: Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister. 1 John 4:7, 19-21

What a model of God-love these amazing ladies have been to me. They have raised the bar of loving to such a height that I have a deeper understanding of the extravagant, lavish love of God.

See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. 1 John 3:1

Our calling
is to love the world around us
in such a way
that they will know him.
CW

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Lately I have realized that I have a great teacher, right under my roof.

He rises when he’s ready, or when his people are getting up … because he knows that being with his people is the best.

He never worries about food or drink (though, like me, he does think about them all. the. time.) … because, at the appointed time, his bowls will be filled (and there’s often a toilet seat that doesn’t get put back down … so there’s that option, though I am not endorsing that life choice of his).

He doesn’t care about his appearance, EVER! Though he does love to be told he’s pretty, handsome … heck, just say it in a higher pitch and he’s eating it up.

He can and will sleep anywhere and anytime … the floor, the sofa (crushing my cushions, despite many, MANY reprimands not to), the bed.

Walk? Heck ya. Hubby just has to click the clasp on his leash and he comes running. And while out for a walk he notices everything in his proximity. He loves seeing people, barking at other dogs (sigh) and spotting bunnies (my arm does not appreciate this), sniffing anything in his sight.

Greeting others with excitement is a gift of this guy and his breed. As a Wheaten Terrier (terror fits too), his line is known for their Wheaten greetin’ including leaping for joy … at face level. Except for the unnerving surprise that this can be to a first time visitor, he knows how to show joy when someone comes into the home.

He sticks close to those who meet his needs. He knows his people … those who feed him, speak gently to him, those who take him out for his (multiple) bathroom breaks … at all hours of the day (and sometimes even the night). He knows whose touch is gentle, who he can count on. And he sticks close to them.

So, here I sit, on an early Sunday morning, learning from the best.

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Where we live, in the Pacific Northwest, we typically enjoy a temperate climate … never too hot, never too cold. During our wet winter season it seems as though we live in a rainforest.

The recent days of early summer here have seemed like we moved to a desert. With daily temperatures reaching the mid 40°C (105°F) range and nighttime temperatures only lowering to near 30°C (86°F). These temperatures are not normal for this area.

Heat-related deaths have even been a very real reality over these sweltering days (and nights).

As the temperatures are now cooling my daily walks around our neighborhood have resumed. As I walked the other evening, I saw something that I had not ever seen before. Plants and trees showed clear evidence of having been damaged or killed by the heat of recent high temperatures.

Azaleas, lilies, rhododendrons, ferns, hydrangea, coniferous trees, roses and more browned and withered by the intense hot sun. Though many of these plants are native to this area, they were not created for such heat and they withered in place.

As I walked the devastation was everywhere. Not a garden was exempt from the damage the heat inflicted on the Earth. Some of the plants and trees will recover, but others, quite literally, have no life left in them.

The words of Isaiah 40:8 echoed in my mind,

The grass withers,
the flower fades,
but the word of our God
will stand forever.

In the Bible there are numerous references to our Earthly life as being like grass, trees or other plants. Often the verses compare their short existence to the brevity of our life.

Those comparisons were on my mind as I walked and, I have to say, there was a sadness in my heart. Sad to see these beautiful growing things burned by their environment. Sad to think of the areas where my life has also been burned.

Then my thinking drifted a bit. These plants that have been killed or damaged, it wasn’t because they failed, or weren’t watered, or were poor quality plants. They withered, faded and were burned not because they were in the wrong place, but because the conditions of the place they were created for changed.

This is our reality, as well.

When God created the human race he did so placing them in an environment where we could thrive. Then sin became a part of our DNA and we began to feel the burn of the world around us.

The thing is, we are in the right place, it is the conditions that changed. Yet, our souls continue to long for the life-giving refreshment of what they were created for. As long as we long for that Eden, we have certainty that it awaits us, that it is promised to us as we stick with the One who created us.

“For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”

2 Corinthians 4:17-18

“Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger: well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water. … If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthy pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. … I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main object of life to press on to that other country and help others to do the same.” CS Lewis (Mere Christianity)

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As I walked a couple of times in the last month, various lyrics from songs I was listening to penetrated into my mind.

Does this happen to you? You hear a song a couple, maybe a dozen times … you might even sing along to it, unconscious as to what you are singing? Then, all of a sudden, POOF! You hear the words, as though listening to for the first time.

It happens to me ALL THE TIME!

So, when I heard these words, I was aghast that I could have missed them up until now. Especially since they are the words that I would claim as the unplanned soundtrack of my life.

They are words that I sing when I am needing a reminder that no matter what else is going on in my life, in my world there is one assured constant,

the state of my soul is the same.

These words, lyrics, originate in the Horatio Spafford hymn, It Is Well (click link to read the story behind this hymn).

(Whatever my lot,
You have taught me to say)
It is well , it is well with my soul

Theses words have been the soundtrack of my life.

Since my teens years, when I first heard this hymn, they have appeared in my life

just. when. I. needed. them. most.

They have come to my consciousness while worshipping in church, listening in the radio in the car, sitting in a hospital bed, standing at graveyards, walking along the beach … walking not far from my home.

Those words have been present in that original song as well as numerous other songs with the same words, the same message of the reminder that, though so much can change and challenge in our lives, when God has control of our souls that does not change.

Below is the latest song which includes the reminder that “It is well with my soul” … this soundtrack of my life.

It has been the best, most powerful reminder of the reality of my state, in any situation.

Though mountains may tremble and sea billows roll
I’ll sing it is well with my soul
My God is still in control

And it is well with my soul
It is well with my soul

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So, you made it to Friday … after thinking it was Friday twice this week already.

You feel like you simply are doing your best to put one foot in front of the other, accomplishing each expectation upon you one slow step at a time.

You are living for the end to this day, this week … knowing within your soul that this is not satisfying, not life-giving … not what you were created for.

Bone tired … that is what you feel, what describes you best right now.

It is a weariness that zaps your energy, your joie de vivre (joy of living), drying up the body, mind and spirit.

Refreshment …

That is what you need. Like a cool lake on a sizzling hot day, a tall glass of water when utterly parched. You need to be refreshed, from the inside out.

come …

It is a beckoning, a pursuing, an invitation. A word that opens the door for one on the outside.

to me …

To Jesus, to God himself. He is the one giving the invitation. It is personal. Not an invitation delivered by another, but offered personally, physically.

all …

Not everyone except, not only a certain group, but all.

that labor and are heavy laden …

This covers the things that encompass our work (jobs, physical work) as well as the weight on our hearts and souls. Are you tired from your work and your heavy heart?

and I …

This is gonna be the promise, the commitment. And it comes from the Creator of heaven and Earth, and of us.

will give you rest.

This is the outcome of the promise. The result, the then of the if/then.

This is for you who are bone weary.

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