Monthly Archives: June 2015

Broken

life,

It’s a blue sky, late June afternoon and I’m living quiet and pondering.  Rarely one to be timid, I have been thinking and wondering.

Should I?  Shouldn’t I?  The answer is

with fear and trembling, Yes.  I’m going to write what I’ve been thinking and I may find myself in hot water.

I walked this morning.

A long way.  Well, a long way for me.  Seven or eight KM and my feet are sore.  More than my feet, my brain is sore and more than that

my heart.  My heart is So Sore.  Today more than yesterday or the day before, there is trouble in my deepest soul.

Oh My Fellow Humans.  Where are we and why did we choose this place?  Why would we want to be

Here?  Not Here, but HERE in this wicked place of our own creating.

On the journey I took earlier I saw so much and heard words and I guarded myself and I’m sure I was close to yelling, right there on the street.

We live in a beautiful city.  I love this city and what a privilege to walk almost any street I want to walk on and

sure, anything can happen and who knows when something bad will happen?  But I’m not afraid.  I’m not even nervous.  It could be that I’m naive but I’ve told you before

I know God numbers my days and I am alive now and I have no idea what’s coming.

Out there, the lights turned red and I stopped.  They turned green and when the little white walking man lit up I crossed and I was confident I would make it safely to the other side.  Once, a few years ago, my husband had business in a far off place.  I went along and one of the first things he told me was to keep both feet planted on the sidewalk until my eyes told me it was safe to cross the street.  A couple of times I almost stepped out and he grabbed me and it’s a good thing because the car about to turn, at high speed, was not about to stop.  Within a few minutes of walking in that city, I had a healthy fear of the possibilities.

Today

I had no fear of my physical safety but there began to well up in me a fear of

Sin.  Darkness.

I’m thinking, now that I’ve had time to sit a few minutes. that perhaps this is what Jesus meant in

John 16:33  I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

I keep going back to

Galatians 6:7 Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap.

Right here, right now I’m jumping in!

Nine people died the other day.  They were gunned down by a young man, because he decided to kill people.  I watched a short video of people, both black and white, standing with arms around each other, weeping, praying, talking.  I don’t even know which words I’m allowed to use to speak about people of different colours.  Believe me, I mean no unkindness, belittling or prejudice.

In Sunday School we used to sing a song

Jesus loves the little children.  All the children of the world.  Red and yellow black and white all are precious in His sight.  Jesus loves the little children of the World.

I think we aren’t allowed to sing that song anymore.  I think it is is racially unfit, unacceptable to sing.

I don’t know the motivation of the person who wrote the song but I can assure you that when we sang it, those years ago, it was a reminder that Jesus loves and so,

we are to love

Everybody.

Jesus wants everybody He created to know who He is and love Him first and then love each other.  He wants everybody He created to know that He is the only way to a life with

Hope.

He is the one who provides a future for us and that future is not here.  It’s with Him.

Those people who were gunned down that terrible day, were praying.  They were gathered to pray.  They were spending time talking to God and He was there with them.  He knows that there is evil all around and sadly

we know it too.  it’s a horrible medicine to swallow, to acknowledge and we are mired in it.  It’s getting worse.

It’s going to get worse.  And More Worse and then More.

We, the ones who know that He is the only purpose worth living for because He is the only Hope we have, are to live in peace.  We are to love and encourage

Everyone.

That troubled young man with the gun, killed because,

well I don’t know why except that for some reason he was full of hate.  The reason is beside the point.  He killed people because…

That crime was not worse than that of a young man going into a school and killing 26

Babies.

It is not worse than that of two young men who planted bombs at the finish line of a marathon, hoping to kill many many many.

It is not worse than a young mother drowning her three children in a bathtub.

It’s not worse than the hundreds and thousands of Christ followers that are being killed and have been killed by hateful, wicked people.

Yes, there is racial injustice in this World.  There is wickedness towards

People

of every colour and religious affiliation.

It. Is. All. Wrong.

It’s going to get worse, whether or not we tell people they can’t have guns.

All over the media today is a video of a talk show host.

A smirking, irreverent, disrespectful, rude, anti God

T.V. personality who gets paid to

make fun of anything and everything.

Not today though.  Today he “has nothin”.

He has only a few words to say about how awful the issue of hate crimes is.

As I listened to him I wanted to ask, “Isn’t any and every sort of murder hateful?”

People all over the place are hailing him as some sort of a king of justice and they are commending him for his willingness to set aside his crudeness and speak words of reproach to his countrymen for a crime committed by a wicked boy.  I know I am not to judge and I know that my words may be offensive but I am

disgusted and ANGRY.  It may be righteous anger.  I don’t know.  But we need to stop putting people on pedestals.  Stop giving credibility to sinful created beings instead of turning to the one who

did the creating.  It is He who has been offended.  He will not be mocked friends.  His justice will be swift and strong, at such a time as He decides.

We are all wicked.  We are all, each one, sin filled.  This crime is terrible.  This boy man needs to face the consequences.

But the real remedy for all that is going on out there,  is for each and all of us

to

fall on our knees before our Holy God, with broken and contrite hearts

and BEG for forgiveness.  

We have turned, EVERY, ONE, to his own way.

We need to stop looking at colour and look at Sin for what it is.  Causing pain to the created and offending our loving, gracious, righteous,

Holy God.

Psalm 51:17  My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise.

And even now, just hours later, the families of the slain are offering

forgiveness, in Jesus name.

That same Jesus weeps over the sin and loves the sinner and to those left behind to mourn He has already told us

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”  Rev. 21:4

Today, This Moment

life, , , ,

 

“But are you sure?”  I asked.

Her smile was kind, encouraging.  “Yes, I’m sure.  I will be fine.”

I hugged her and said “but I don’t want to leave you.  Won’t you be lonely?”

She continued to smile and said “I won’t be lonely.  you go and have fun.”

I somehow got to the car safely, even as I walked forward while looking backward to watch her face for a sign that I was needed.

I was nine and it was 1968.  I remember it vividly and she likely doesn’t remember it at all. Every once in a while my dad would take me on a date to the arena in the next town.  It was a tin building suitable for hanging slabs of beef and not for it’s actual use of seating several hundred fans of the local hockey team.  It was 9 miles away and I loved to go despite the -30 temps and the inevitable, painfully cold feet I would endure in the unheated arena.  Such fun, running around while the game was being played, eating the hamburger and cheering on the “good guys.”  The only shadow over the evening was the concern I felt at leaving Nano home alone.  The thought of her sitting in that living room without us, broke my heart.  Even then I hated leaving her.

There were sleepover invitations and I liked the thought of playing and then sleeping at a friend’s house.  But mostly, not always but mostly, I either needed to go home, or I cried myself to sleep at the thought of my parents at home, sitting together, missing me and me missing them.  Childish, unwarranted fears and even then I hated leaving them.

It was that tug of war,  home and family on one end, friends and adventure on the other.

Leaving has always been my heartbreak and wouldn’t you know it, leaving is what I’ve done much of, it seems.

We have never lived near Blood.  Those years, the ones way back, it was just us.

Five.

I sometimes talk to people who say they aren’t speaking to their relatives.

Blood.

Somebody did something.  Somebody said something.  Somebody missed something,

didn’t send a card

sent the wrong card

didn’t come for dinner

stayed too long after dinner

and I know I’m not to judge.  Bad things happen, sin lives here and people do what they shouldn’t.

Ponder what God says.  It’s what we were created to do.

Live by them.  God’s words.

Don’t tear down bridges and build up walls.

There’s been fighting forever, really.  It’s a shame.

If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.  (Romans 12:18)

It’s been about 38 years since we five lived under the same roof.  Since then we have lived far,  apart and

Even so,

Sometimes my brother annoys me, my sister irritates me, my mother nags me and even from here, across the country, one or the other does something, says something that initiates eye rolling.

Years come and go

I’ve just left my mother, in a little room in a lovely place, in an Alberta city.  She has precious ones  all around

I’m not one of them.  Well, I’m not close but a piece of my heart sits next to her, wherever that is.  Some of you have mothers somewhere other than at arms length and some are gone.

“at least you still have your mother”  you say.  “At least your mother still knows you” and it’s true.

I’m not there and it feels like my heart is being wrung when I say good bye and I remember those nights way back, almost as if God was getting me ready for the Real ‘see you laters’.   Now that she’s in her 94th year and

who knows, really…

Well, who knows, really…about anything?  Not one of us knows what’s next,  or how long until Next arrives.

What a gift God has given us, in words.  They can be used for good, or not.  I read something today and the words were put together by C.S. Lewis.  They went like this.

“Never, in peace or war, commit your virtue or your happiness to the future. Happy work is best done by the man who takes his long-term plans somewhat lightly and works from moment to moment ‘as to the Lord.’ It is only our daily bread that we are encouraged to ask for. The present is the only time in which any duty can be done or any grace received.” —from The Weight of Glory  

I Like it.

Today,

is what matters.  If I’m worried about what happened yesterday or what might happen tomorrow, before I know it I’ll be old and all of my todays will be gone.

Through the years I have heard Nano say on numerous occasions that it would be so terrible to have a fighting family.  How sad she would be if her loved ones did not get along.  If they should choose to hold grudges.  That, as far as her thinking goes, would be a terrible sort of pain and so useless.  How heartbreaking it would be to dishonour our parents and to disregard what we’ve been taught.  Family and loved ones and friends should be kind to one another.  Sounds familiar!

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.. Eph. 4:32 

My son reminded me a while back of how small the forgiveness is that we might offer compared to the forgiveness that has been offered to us

by God

and although I feel like making excuses it warms my heart as it would my parents hearts, that understanding has been passed along to another generation.   He knows how words can hurt.  I’ve put some together over the years, that have cut him.  My purpose was for good, the outcome was not.  This boy knows the value of forgiveness.  He’s experienced the rewards, the blessing of being forgiven and offering forgiveness.

As Papa often reminded us,

“keep short accounts.”

If there was a problem we fixed it.  If there was sin that needed correcting, it was corrected. If there was hurt borne,  we loved each other and in loving one another we  forgave, even if we didn’t feel like it.  Forgiving was an action of the mind as much as it was of the heart and before I knew it, the forgiveness was heartfelt.

We did it.  We learned to turn the other cheek because it was right and it Is right.  Retaliation made it all so much worse.   We learned to recognize the pain in it.  Not just  with family, but people, souls, walking around on the sidewalks and in the hallways where we walked.

It’s called empathy and it’s good.

Sure I have scars.  Sure my heart weeps when I think of painful and even unfair.  I’ll tell you though,

pain can bring a lot of good.  We like to protect our children from pain.  We shouldn’t. Sadly, pain builds character.  It wasn’t supposed to be that way but it is, in a broken world.

The point.  What’s past is just that and what’s ahead is not known and won’t be known until we get there.  No eye can see around the bend and down the path.

Along with the good ingrained in me there is, not so good.  Worry is Not.

Reading about lives lived by people who have my same inhibitions is like fresh water, a gentle breeze.  Sharing ourselves is good.  I’ll share with you and you share with me and we will encourage and even, when necessary, admonish.    We won’t be angry or crushed because we know it’s good to brush up against thorns every now and again.  Cuts and bruises send us to the one who is best at soothing, healing.

Let’s talk about hard and pain and sweet and laughter and lets be joy filled.

Joy is like a muscle.  The more I exercise it the stronger it gets.

Father’s day is just around the corner.  Mine, my father that is, went Home just over 27 years ago.  He’s there fully and wholly.  When I think of him I think of her.  Nano.  He’s gone and she isn’t and she knows it, every. single. day.  They were together like doesn’t often happen in a lifetime.  Devoted, loving, sharing, modeling, teaching and not always happy but always looking at the only one who gives true joy and even happiness amidst the tribulation of every day.

God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing. C.S. Lewis

 

 

“Dear old World’, she murmured, ‘you are very lovely and I am glad to be alive in you” Anne of Green Gables

life, , ,

Here I am again.

It’s a beautiful day and while Nano sleeps I’m sitting,

writing.

She, encompassed by pain, is happy to see me.  Sickness has been her very constant companion in recent weeks and it is not exaggerating or premature to say she is old.  Her body is “wearing out” as one doctor said.  She is worn out.  She sleeps long and often. Her body functions are sluggish at best and life is hard.   Her walker stands close and there is no pride in her when she pushes it down the hall.  She walks to the breakfast room for her piece of whole wheat toast and raspberry jam and barely makes it back before crumpling onto her bed for rest.

Her meals are quite nice looking and I wonder if the cooks here  know how grateful we are for a sprig of parsley.   That simple stem of green makes a plate full of food more appetizing to a 93 year old preacher’s wife with no appetite.

IMG_1970

There is a small dining room  where residents may take their guests.   You get special attention there and it’s next to the big dining room.  Today, Nano and I ate two meals together in that little dining room.  Sometimes people walk through the small dining room on their way ‘home’.  Nano and I were chatting about how delicious our meal had been when a little lady passed by.  She was stooped and fragile looking and she smiled.  We smiled back and said “Hello”.  She replied and a conversation began.  English was not her first language and she knew very few words until she arrived here, from South Africa four years ago and we listened closely.    Her children live here as do her grandchildren and the time was right.  She likes it here and anyway, she knows she can never go back.  Her furniture is gone and all of her things and here she is and I saw tears in her eyes and then there were tears in mine.  Her name is Anna and she is dear.

Then

Nano said

“well, when we have nothing else it’s wonderful to know that we have JESUS.  He loves us very much.

Anna replied, “oh yes, what would we do without Jesus.  I sometimes wonder what I would do without Him”.

And then I was reaching for my kleenex and I thought about how true it is.  Life is hard, especially for these dear ones who are way way past their prime and they are sick and tired and want to be well and know they won’t be, ever again and still, they are glad to be alive in this “Dear Old World”.

It has been suggested that the kitchen staff might cut Nano’s meat before presenting it at her table so she can eat it without struggle.  Her reply, as she krinkles her nose

Oh I don’t know if I want that.  My plate will look messy

And she eats such a few bites of, fish or beef or chicken, that what does it really matter if her plate is messy.   I tell you it surely does matter.  As does the look of her beautiful, never coloured other than what God has given her naturally, silver hair.  It should have received a perm a month ago but a three week stay at the hospital around the corner quashed that plan and today is good because tomorrow is perm day.  It might not ‘take’ well but it will look better.

Her gnarled hands lie in her lap and there is not a moment free from pain and the knitting needles , well used, are packed away.

Never a gal to whine or complain, she was the mother who said when things were going awry, life was throwing a curve, the twisting path became too much,

“oh, you’ll be fine.  It could be worse” and it made me frown and complain (still does) when her support came in the form of correction, admonition, sometimes sounding kind and other times sounding reproachful.

and

I am who I am because of who she is.  I learned to be strong as I watched her and although the strength she exuded was quiet and yes, even submissive, oh it was there.   Her strength was in serving, family and strangers.  She was strong when she modeled mercy, she was strong when she traveled to the other side of the country to visit her ailing parents, with a few dollars in her wallet and not many more left in the bank and she did it because it was good and right and honouring.   I was small and I watched and learned.

We, my sister, my brother and me and let’s not forget the ones who love us, our spouses who have traveled hard with their own parents and are standing close and supporting and we are all working together.

model mercy even though it might not be our gift 

and we love and we care and of course we are obligated and we do it because it is good and right and honouring and not always easy.  We give up other fun and we do it because

God loved us first and this mother loved us next and we love her back and our purpose is to listen and honour.  We watched our parents do it and even though our parents frustrated us and we live life differently than they did and would,

We learned.  They taught us the things that God says are important and one of those things is to honour our parents.

I am here now, for one week and one of these days, “see you later” will turn into “Good Bye for now” and until then we keep encouraging and helping and watching and loving and we leave the rest and the time in the hands of

He who made time and numbered our days

here.  He is to be trusted because His Love is

Greater Than