It was only a matter of days ago, that I told a colleague of mine, that it was almost time for a vacation. "I can always tell when it's time," I said, " when I cry after seeing clients."
Last week I did some crying, tearing up, weeping.
I've always thought it a sign of weakness. Could be the Mennonite in me....or possibly the Friesen in me, but whatever the cause, to me, it was a negative response.
Today I was doing some studying for an upcoming class when I read, once again, the story of Lazarus and Jesus. As I was reading.....for the first time....I could sense.....the reality of the situation. Taking a step back and seeing the panoramic view of that day, I discover a man who was probably weary and tired, who had walked all day to get there, very likely hot and dusty.....he was with a bunch of guys, who just weren't 'picking up what he was putting down'. I see a man who finally arrives at his destination only to be met and questioned by loved ones, whose grief is all consuming. "If onlys" were uttered, hearts were broken and more tears were shed.
And Jesus wept.
The Bible is not clear as to why he wept, just that he wept.
And in that moment, his humanity became clear to me. Maybe he was tired. Done. Maybe he just wanted to get this whole thing over with. Following the will of God is not an easy task, ask anyone who's tried it. It often involves weeping. Sharing truth with people who do not understand God's plan for them is challenging. It often involves weeping. Watching people make bad decisions as you try and love them unconditionally is draining. It often involves weeping. Seeing people who do not understand that Jesus loves them so much, that he will trade his life for theirs is heart breaking. It involves weeping.
And....even in the face of a joyous reunion, there has been sacrifice. Weeping.
In no way am I comparing myself to Jesus in this moment, but what hope it gives me to know that....just like me, Jesus wept.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
When God sends you flowers
Do you ever wonder if God really loves you? Me too. I mean, head knowledge says yes, but my heart sometimes doesn't connect with the big picture. I struggle. I don't know why, but I do.
And so, God, in His way, has set about to show me how much He loves me. He's been speaking my language. My language is gifts. If I see something that I think a loved one will like, I buy it. I make it....I get it...I give it.
And so....God started to speak my language. It started with a great apartment. It continued with some great new furniture, winter tires, money for a trip.
(Now don't think I'm not grateful, I honestly didn't get the connection.)
Great things kept happening, and I would take a moment and express my thanks....but didn't get that He was speaking my language.
Til one day.........
as I sat on my great sofa, and He finally spoke, " Your love language is gifts......you keep getting stuff.....are you understanding yet?"
And it finally clicked.
And once again it rings true....you can't be pretty AND smart.
I got it. I finally got it.
Last week my treadmill died. I needed something to exercise on, and by the end of the week, I acquired an elliptical trainer for a price that I could afford.
And today He sent me flowers.
I know lots of you are wondering how...He spoke to one of His children.....they discussed, and she obeyed.
And the Lord Most High, the Creator of the Universe, the King of Kings....sent me, Me, flowers.
And so, God, in His way, has set about to show me how much He loves me. He's been speaking my language. My language is gifts. If I see something that I think a loved one will like, I buy it. I make it....I get it...I give it.
And so....God started to speak my language. It started with a great apartment. It continued with some great new furniture, winter tires, money for a trip.
(Now don't think I'm not grateful, I honestly didn't get the connection.)
Great things kept happening, and I would take a moment and express my thanks....but didn't get that He was speaking my language.
Til one day.........
as I sat on my great sofa, and He finally spoke, " Your love language is gifts......you keep getting stuff.....are you understanding yet?"
And it finally clicked.
And once again it rings true....you can't be pretty AND smart.
I got it. I finally got it.
Last week my treadmill died. I needed something to exercise on, and by the end of the week, I acquired an elliptical trainer for a price that I could afford.
And today He sent me flowers.
I know lots of you are wondering how...He spoke to one of His children.....they discussed, and she obeyed.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Though Your Sins were As Scarlet.......
I am not a fan of winter. (if you know me, you know this) In fact, I would say that there is nothing that I hate more....than winter. I hate the cold. I abhor snow.....(I used the thesaurus for that one, can you tell?) I would be perfectly happy to never experience another winter season again...ecstatic. Wearing flipflops all year long...going for long walks.....definitely a wonderful way to live.
And so, with yesterdays 6 inches of snow and unreal temperatures plummeting to the depths of cold....I declared a snow day for the Rubes and myself. We snuggled in bed, we watched tv, we even made blondies (white brownies...not wigs). What a good day. Blissful. And yet, in the pit of my stomach, I knew that Monday morning would come, and I would have to face the reality of ....winter in Saskatchewan. Winter driving, in big constraining parkas.
And so it came....the dreaded morning.
I slowly got ready, dawdling all the way.....like molassas in ....you guessed it, January.
Finally, I sat in front of the wheel, and prayed a prayer of safety, that I pray every winter morning...and pulled out of the driveway.
It was still early, the world tempered with a blue tint, just a bit of daylight starting into the mix. And I was surprised at what I saw. Taken back, my breath caught just a little in my throat. Everything was white. I saw no colour anywhere. White....lit up by a blue light bulb. Pure white.
And in the depths of my heart.....the words stirred up from within....."though your sins were as scarlet...."
And then He spoke......"This is how I cover your sin."
Oh, how in that moment, I was so thankful for snow.
Isaiah 1:18
Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow;
And so, with yesterdays 6 inches of snow and unreal temperatures plummeting to the depths of cold....I declared a snow day for the Rubes and myself. We snuggled in bed, we watched tv, we even made blondies (white brownies...not wigs). What a good day. Blissful. And yet, in the pit of my stomach, I knew that Monday morning would come, and I would have to face the reality of ....winter in Saskatchewan. Winter driving, in big constraining parkas.
And so it came....the dreaded morning.
I slowly got ready, dawdling all the way.....like molassas in ....you guessed it, January.
Finally, I sat in front of the wheel, and prayed a prayer of safety, that I pray every winter morning...and pulled out of the driveway.
It was still early, the world tempered with a blue tint, just a bit of daylight starting into the mix. And I was surprised at what I saw. Taken back, my breath caught just a little in my throat. Everything was white. I saw no colour anywhere. White....lit up by a blue light bulb. Pure white.
And in the depths of my heart.....the words stirred up from within....."though your sins were as scarlet...."
And then He spoke......"This is how I cover your sin."
Oh, how in that moment, I was so thankful for snow.
Isaiah 1:18
Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow;
Sunday, January 08, 2012
Men who Preach, dont..........
Although I speak fairly often on a Sunday morning, it is somewhat uncommon for me to have the sermon. I share about my work, and then promptly sit down and listen to the preacher. I do speak at women's events much more often, but there is a comfortable familiarity there...a sisterhood.
And so, this morning was my morning. Preaching, sharing the word, and my story. And I've come to some conclusions....
Men who preach, don't..........
-have to debate whether to wear a skirt or pants, determine who will be offended with either. If in fact you choose the skirt, worry about the length of said skirt...again...not to offend anyone.
Men who preach, don't..........
-have to make sure they don't wear a v-neck (enough said)
-have to find a pair of nylons that aren't full of runs (I went through 6 pairs the morning)
Men who preach, don't..........
-have to ensure that their legs are shaved from the top of their boots to the bottom of their skirts. (please don't judge me on that one...and don't look close either)
Men who preach, don't............
-have to make sure they have the appropriate amount of make up on. Enough to look alive, and little enough to not look...well....you know....
Men who preach, don't..........
-have to worry about length of heel on their boot or shoe...high heels make your legs look slimmer, but flats are more likely to ensure that you won't fall flat on your face.
As I stood with the pastor this morning, and shared with him my conclusions between men and women preaching...he shared his concerns with me:
Men who preach....have to worry that their flies are done up.
I guess we all have our challenges.
All in all it was a good morning...God was there, and we were blessed.
And so, this morning was my morning. Preaching, sharing the word, and my story. And I've come to some conclusions....
Men who preach, don't..........
-have to debate whether to wear a skirt or pants, determine who will be offended with either. If in fact you choose the skirt, worry about the length of said skirt...again...not to offend anyone.
Men who preach, don't..........
-have to make sure they don't wear a v-neck (enough said)
-have to find a pair of nylons that aren't full of runs (I went through 6 pairs the morning)
Men who preach, don't..........
-have to ensure that their legs are shaved from the top of their boots to the bottom of their skirts. (please don't judge me on that one...and don't look close either)
Men who preach, don't............
-have to make sure they have the appropriate amount of make up on. Enough to look alive, and little enough to not look...well....you know....
Men who preach, don't..........
-have to worry about length of heel on their boot or shoe...high heels make your legs look slimmer, but flats are more likely to ensure that you won't fall flat on your face.
As I stood with the pastor this morning, and shared with him my conclusions between men and women preaching...he shared his concerns with me:
Men who preach....have to worry that their flies are done up.
I guess we all have our challenges.
All in all it was a good morning...God was there, and we were blessed.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Baby Girl
Your dreams are big, when they first place her in your arms. You learn together, parent and child. You dream together, parent and daughter. You plan, and improvise to give her your best. You hold her on your lap, and fill her mind with possibilities, as you read from Dr. Seuss' "Oh the Places You'll Go!"
You paint those tiny finger and toenails in bubble gum pink, and braid and clip her hair. She is perfect.
So, when does reality set in? Why does the story so often take these princessess, once so cherished and beloved, to my office. Where does life go so horribly wrong, that the apple of one's eye, becomes the dreaded relative who you don't want to help.....the kid who doesn't listen, the girl who gets herself into trouble, who get's caught; the one who is abandoned, alone, confused, and hopeless, as she has left you heart broken, and hurting.
I'm taking it hard this week. I'm carrying burdens I shouldn't carry. But honestly....who else will carry them. Who else cares for the 16 year old who prostitutes herself, because her mom threw her out. Who else cares about the homeless mother of three, who got kicked out of her boyfriend's house because she cried. The woman, who's family won't help her, unless she aborts this baby.
I know the Sunday School answer. "Jesus cares." And I get that. I do. But there are days, when one needs 'Jesus with skin on.'
When hope is gone. When there seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel......I don't really know that my words mean much. It felt like they didn't today.
I know it's not about me. I know that I 'plant seeds.' But today, Jesus, just reveal yourself to them. Give them a glimmer of you.
And for the rest of you......love your daughters.
You paint those tiny finger and toenails in bubble gum pink, and braid and clip her hair. She is perfect.
So, when does reality set in? Why does the story so often take these princessess, once so cherished and beloved, to my office. Where does life go so horribly wrong, that the apple of one's eye, becomes the dreaded relative who you don't want to help.....the kid who doesn't listen, the girl who gets herself into trouble, who get's caught; the one who is abandoned, alone, confused, and hopeless, as she has left you heart broken, and hurting.
I'm taking it hard this week. I'm carrying burdens I shouldn't carry. But honestly....who else will carry them. Who else cares for the 16 year old who prostitutes herself, because her mom threw her out. Who else cares about the homeless mother of three, who got kicked out of her boyfriend's house because she cried. The woman, who's family won't help her, unless she aborts this baby.
I know the Sunday School answer. "Jesus cares." And I get that. I do. But there are days, when one needs 'Jesus with skin on.'
When hope is gone. When there seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel......I don't really know that my words mean much. It felt like they didn't today.
I know it's not about me. I know that I 'plant seeds.' But today, Jesus, just reveal yourself to them. Give them a glimmer of you.
And for the rest of you......love your daughters.
Saturday, August 06, 2011
Thursday, July 07, 2011
The Pianist
I just got off the phone with one of my oldest friends. Okay, she's not really old, we've just known each other forever. A girl from Ontario went to California to become a singer...there she met a girl from Saskatchewan, who could play piano like no one else. (I'm the one from Ontario)
22 years have come and gone...our lives have been lived, both very different than we expected. There has been heart break, joy, impatience, sorrow, and hope.
She cut my hair for me, broke up with a boy for me (at Disneyland no less....apparently for him it wasn't the happiest place on earth.) What have I done for her? well some computer stuff way back when....I've tried to listen when I could...be a friend.
The past few years for her have been a test. Living day to day, trying to find God in the midst of destruction, frustration and pain. Trying to figure out how to walk through the muck and mire of broken relationships, and learning to shake off the past, the heaviness and re-learn to walk in freedom once again.
And for that, I am grateful. I am thankful, that even though there was an unexpected turn in her life...she doesn't blame God, she still seeks Him. She doesn't want to hold hands with bitterness the rest of her life, but wants to choose to live in forgiveness. And may God walk closely with her, as she strives to move forward.
Out of the ashes.
22 years have come and gone...our lives have been lived, both very different than we expected. There has been heart break, joy, impatience, sorrow, and hope.
She cut my hair for me, broke up with a boy for me (at Disneyland no less....apparently for him it wasn't the happiest place on earth.) What have I done for her? well some computer stuff way back when....I've tried to listen when I could...be a friend.
The past few years for her have been a test. Living day to day, trying to find God in the midst of destruction, frustration and pain. Trying to figure out how to walk through the muck and mire of broken relationships, and learning to shake off the past, the heaviness and re-learn to walk in freedom once again.
And for that, I am grateful. I am thankful, that even though there was an unexpected turn in her life...she doesn't blame God, she still seeks Him. She doesn't want to hold hands with bitterness the rest of her life, but wants to choose to live in forgiveness. And may God walk closely with her, as she strives to move forward.
Out of the ashes.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
5 Years
5 years.
5 years ago tonight, I sat in my apartment, eating take out food brought to me by a friend. 5 years ago tonight, I had been awake for 36 hours. Late the night before, my mom had called me and told me dad wasn't breathing very well...could I come. I went.
After being unable to wake him ourselves...we called for an ambulance and some medical help...wouldn't you know that's when he chose to wake up....bless his heart. And so I spent the next 34 hours at the hospital...or running back to his place to get some of his necessities.
A trip to the hospital to get his strength up, our plan was to bring him home again.
But....he didn't come home.
5 years ago tomorrow.....I held his hand, and helped to usher him into Heaven....the Promise Land.
I loved my father, he wasn't perfect, our relationship wasn't always easy...but, we ended well. He was raised to believe that to be a good father, you had to provide well for your family, and so he worked hard, and he worked a lot. Sometimes I resented it...thinking he missed out on too many things in my life.
Recently a friend of mine was planning a trip to Southern Ontario, where I was raised. For several hours, we talked about things to do, things to see, things to experience....and over and over again, the words repeatedly tumbled out of my mouth...."Oh my dad took me there."..."I saw that with my dad." And the memories resurfaced like fragments of stained glass, that when pieced together, made a beautiful picture.
And I appreciated. And I cherished. And I am thankful.
People get sick, people die...and life goes on......and we go on...and yet sometimes, it's good to remember.
5 years.
5 years ago tonight, I sat in my apartment, eating take out food brought to me by a friend. 5 years ago tonight, I had been awake for 36 hours. Late the night before, my mom had called me and told me dad wasn't breathing very well...could I come. I went.
After being unable to wake him ourselves...we called for an ambulance and some medical help...wouldn't you know that's when he chose to wake up....bless his heart. And so I spent the next 34 hours at the hospital...or running back to his place to get some of his necessities.
A trip to the hospital to get his strength up, our plan was to bring him home again.
But....he didn't come home.
5 years ago tomorrow.....I held his hand, and helped to usher him into Heaven....the Promise Land.
I loved my father, he wasn't perfect, our relationship wasn't always easy...but, we ended well. He was raised to believe that to be a good father, you had to provide well for your family, and so he worked hard, and he worked a lot. Sometimes I resented it...thinking he missed out on too many things in my life.
Recently a friend of mine was planning a trip to Southern Ontario, where I was raised. For several hours, we talked about things to do, things to see, things to experience....and over and over again, the words repeatedly tumbled out of my mouth...."Oh my dad took me there."..."I saw that with my dad." And the memories resurfaced like fragments of stained glass, that when pieced together, made a beautiful picture.
And I appreciated. And I cherished. And I am thankful.
People get sick, people die...and life goes on......and we go on...and yet sometimes, it's good to remember.
5 years.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-we-go.
The ebb and flow of this week as been full of tidal waves of emotion, as life happens all around us. The unexpected death of a friend's father, praying for the Lord to spare a newborn's life, to complete a family. Even personal stress this week has done much to weaken my resolve. Deep grief, hoping against all hope and the uncertainties and unanswered questions...make me wonder...."Really God....what's going on here?"
And so tonight I was drawn to Daniel....I just needed a little reminder, and I found it.
In chapter 3, we meet Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego (or Abed-we-go...as I always thought he was called...of course, I thought Jesus died in Calgary, so hey, what do I know...anyway, back to the topic at hand...) We meet these three men...standing up for their faith, for their God......we meet these three men, being thrown into a fiery furnace.
Before their 'hot date' they are clear about their belief....about their God.
If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God whom we serve is able to save us. He will rescue us from your power, Your Majesty. But even if He doesn't, we want to make it clear to you, Your Majesty, that we will never serve your gods or worship the gold statue you have set up. Daniel 3:17-18.
They knew, in that moment, that God could save them. They knew in that moment, that God was able to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.
There are several unanswered questions tonight, maybe you have one or two. I just received a text of a friend, who is wondering what God is up to. I am wondering the same thing....but these words keep coming back to me........."the God whom we serve is able to save us." I know my God is able.
Dear friends, God has a plan for your life, for our lives. It may not be what we expected....and even if the outcome, (I'm scared to say) is not what we imagined.........
I know my God is able.
And so tonight I was drawn to Daniel....I just needed a little reminder, and I found it.
In chapter 3, we meet Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego (or Abed-we-go...as I always thought he was called...of course, I thought Jesus died in Calgary, so hey, what do I know...anyway, back to the topic at hand...) We meet these three men...standing up for their faith, for their God......we meet these three men, being thrown into a fiery furnace.
Before their 'hot date' they are clear about their belief....about their God.
If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God whom we serve is able to save us. He will rescue us from your power, Your Majesty. But even if He doesn't, we want to make it clear to you, Your Majesty, that we will never serve your gods or worship the gold statue you have set up. Daniel 3:17-18.
They knew, in that moment, that God could save them. They knew in that moment, that God was able to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.
There are several unanswered questions tonight, maybe you have one or two. I just received a text of a friend, who is wondering what God is up to. I am wondering the same thing....but these words keep coming back to me........."the God whom we serve is able to save us." I know my God is able.
Dear friends, God has a plan for your life, for our lives. It may not be what we expected....and even if the outcome, (I'm scared to say) is not what we imagined.........
I know my God is able.
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