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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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An afternoon when the sun shone brightly, then clouds came, then quals of snow, and repeat.

A dinner for two … my son caught up in thoughts of his day, I caught up in wondering about, you know peace on Earth, or some other such lofty thing.

I loaded the dishwasher, he headed upstairs to finish writing a short story.

I sighed …

and returned to the dining room to clean the table.

As I entered the room, with he setting sun brightening the entire room, I sighed again …

with delight. And smiled. And thought how I love that room.

Then I thought how I love the climbing rose bushes outside the dining room doors, and how eager I am to breath in their perfume.

And how soon the two Forsythia trees, perfectly in view from the dining room, would be ablaze with yellow flowers.

And how I aced the chicken and rice soup for dinner.

And that I was thankful for the furniture in the dining room that I would be refinishing for a friend.

And, all of a sudden not only the room was lighter, but so was my heart.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above,
coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights,
who does not change like shifting shadows.”
James 1:17

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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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broken-home

I remembered a song that I heard often as a young child recently, and the chorus went:

“For united we stand. Divided we fall
And if our backs should ever be against the wall
We’ll be together, Together, you and I”

The song came to my mind as I was reading a news report last weekend that had me dismayed as a follower of Christ, when I read the headline “Christians collide …”.

My dismay was not that Christians might “collide” or disagree, for we do not all agree on all things, much like not at Jews, or Muslims, or Catholics or Atheists agree on all things.  My dismay was that it was broadcast in the public forum, because the Christians themselves took it there.

And so I gulped, and was reminded of what it is to “grieve the Holy Spirit of God” (Ephesians 4:30), for, as James 4:11-12 (MSG) reminds us:

“Don’t bad-mouth each other, friends.
It’s God’s Word, his Message, his Royal Rule,
that takes a beating in that kind of talk.”

How like children tattling on each other we must sound to God when we go to a public forum about our grievances with each other. Even the most valid complaints have negative impacts on our representation of Christ for the unbelievers in our world.

We honour God when we are united with Him, and with each other.

A good reminder, as groups of believers, as well as for myself in my relationships.

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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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Have you got a person? You know, someone who seems to have ‘just happened’ into your life, and you are so glad that they did? Someone who you just know was hand-picked just for you?

I expect that most of us have a handful, a bouquet of those persons.

This week, walking down the hallways of school, I saw her out of the corner of my eye, and bee-lined it for her. We greeted one another with a warm embrace, a smile and a laugh. Small blessings that made my day better. We are a similar age (easier for me to say, because I am older by a year or two), have grown older with our sons, love to laugh and pray for each other.

Last weekend, upon entering the house of our friends, I was warmly embraced by my friend, who then introduced me to her mom, who said she was so glad that I was in her daughter’s life. This friend is younger than myself by a few years, and we live very different daily lives, yet a magnetic force seems to have brought us together and I am so glad for her.

A week ago I visited with friend who opened her door, and we reached out our arms for the other, in shared love, sorrow and delight. Though I am the same age as her daughter, she calls me friend. We spent an evening sharing life … tea, chocolate, laughter, stories, prayer and tears. I love her for her gentle strength, and her unconditional acceptance of me.

A woman who shares sisterly love for another woman is blessed beyond measure.

“A friend loves at all times”
Proverbs 17:17

 

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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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Are there any three words more delightful to hear than “I love you,” from someone who makes your heart skip a beat?

The best thing is when your ‘love’ knows you so well that he says it in ways that are definitely just for you. It is as though he is speaking your own unique language.

I had that happen earlier this week.

It was a typical Tuesday morning. I awoke at 6am, showered, dressed, and sprinted to the morning coffee. I grabbed a form of sustenance, climbed to my desk, and plunked away at the laptop for an hour. I then finished getting ready, kissed my love, and headed out the door.

I backed down our drive, feeling the ‘I love you’ in the fresh morning air filling my vehicle with the reminder of the gift in every new day.

Then, as I moved the vehicle from R to D, I looked up and faced the ‘I love you’ in the beauty of the sky … fog, moving to make way for peeking blue skies, telling me of the beautiful day to come.

I was awakened to His ‘I love you’s’, and began to anticipate what might be around the next corner …

… and as I turned that corner, the field, that I pass every day, was filled with fog, lightly laying within the confines of the fence that stretched around it, like roses confined to the safety of a vase … ‘I love you.’

I felt as though each corner would be another surprise, another expression of ‘I love you’ from my Creator … and He did not disappoint! More lifting fog, more revelations of hope of what was to come that day.

I smiled as I turned at that busy morning corner, whispering, ‘thank-you’ as I was sure that He had completed His ‘I love you’ message to me.

But, as I faced the tall trees framing the hill under it’s feet, the sky was shouting ‘I love you’ with that most constant symbol of love and hope … the prism of the skies …

‘I love you … with an everlasting love.’

“God’s glory is on tour in the skies,

    God-craft on exhibit across the horizon.

Madame Day holds classes every morning,

    Professor Night lectures each evening.

Their words aren’t heard,

    their voices aren’t recorded,

But their silence fills the earth:

    unspoken truth is spoken everywhere.

God makes a huge dome

    for the sun—a superdome!

The morning sun’s a new husband

    leaping from his honeymoon bed,

The daybreaking sun an athlete

    racing to the tape.

 That’s how God’s Word vaults across the skies

    from sunrise to sunset,

Melting ice, scorching deserts,

    warming hearts to faith.”

Psalm 19:1-6

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