A Star

      Centuries ago, wise men, scholars of the night sky, saw a light of significance and gave up all to follow it. The Bible seems to point to a journey of about two years. We don't know how many wise men there were and we don't know their origins. But we can surmise this - they recognized a God thing when they saw it. And I got to thinking. What was the "star" that showed itself to me, that set me on a life- long journey to seek the face of God?  Was it that overwhelming feeling at age seven that Christmas was about Christ and not Santa? Was it that lingering voice in the back of my mind that whispered conviction as I grew to adulthood? Maybe, but the day I started the no-turning-back journey started with a letter.
        The message of the Light of the World was expressed in a fourteen-page letter to me at a low time in young adulthood. A childhood friend, wrote to me of her rebirth. I knew her well. We had tripped through our teenage years pushing the envelope of all that was good and right. Seekers both, we had questioned and read and sought truth. We made huge blunders on the way, fell into pits that had dire and lifelong consequences. But we were looking. We wanted to know.
         And in 1977, my friend came to both the end and the beginning. She met Christ. And she presented her findings to me in that letter. That was the star in the east for me. I picked up a Good News Bible at the second hand bookshop and just couldn't put it down. And today, I'm still following that Light.
        So, I ask you, has there been a "star" in your life? A God moment that turned your heart toward His light?

        

It's Bigger

       Sitting in church this morning, I had a moment of explosive clarity, that I have allowed life to become an orderly series of one of two things...."accomplishable goals" or "worry blocks."  I seem to move from task to task, from predicament to plight.  The "accomplishable goals" follow the predictable path: a need is expressed, a task presented, a goal is set and eventually it is ticked off the list. 
       But the "worry blocks" are different. Something beyond my control springs up.  I stew, plan, freak, try to work it through, all the while praying... praying to calm down and trust my Lord. He says all things work together for my good, (Romans 8:28), and I believe Him. But, oh, it is a struggle sometimes. The process continues for days, weeks or months, and then all is either resolved, or momentarily forgotten, relegated to the back burner. In the last decade, there was one "worry block" that lasted almost two years. I wouldn't say it was a daily struggle, but at least conservatively, two or three days a week, a wave of soul-sucking anxiety would take over. And the fight for my peace was on.  And at the end of this dilemma, all was resolved with great victory. Looking back, I realize that there was not one thing I could have done to make it happen. I just needed to look up, keep quiet and wait on God.
        Slow learner....almost this same thing repeated itself this year. And again, the same pattern of me trying to make things happen. Nothing I said or did had any effect. The only one who needed to hear my voice was the Lord. And again, He made it all work together, for all good. And once more I am at peace.
        Oh, that I would learn to trust the Prince of Peace. To be still and let God be God. To trust Him. To know that as I "trust in the Lord with all my heart and lean not on my own understanding, in all my ways acknowledge him and He will make my paths straight!"  (Proverbs 3:5-6)

A Brief Moment in Time

Last night, my son dug up our old Sony video camera. We had purchased it in 1999 when we were leaving the west coast to move here to Ontario. Using it to sieze and corral every bit of what we loved and were leaving behind, we took tapes and tapes of footage of the pack and move. There were tapes where the video was strapped to the dashboard of our '84 Tercel as we roamed favourite and familiar sideroads through forest and oceanside running personal commentary so we'd never forget. "Oh, I've always loved that house. Or quick, turn here, this is where we saw the herring run."  Knowing human memory can fail, we wanted proof that we had lived in one of the most beautiful places in the world. That for a precious five years, we lived in a smalltown beach community.

The camera did its job well. As each of our friends came to say goodbye, some local and some travelling from the mainland to spend scheduled weekends with us, we talked of the past, how we came to know and love each other and looked toward a future where the telephone would be the only link.

Watching the tapes last night, all I could think was that we were all so young. My son was only 16. His fresh sweet face was registering great glee over a newly aquired drivers licence and in many takes, he was the driver. He was leaving his home, but I don't recall him being negative in the least. He looked forward to a new start.

What I saw on my own face was quite different. Younger yes, but not fresher. My expressions were sadder, more harried. Shots of us carrying items out for a huge garage sale, of best friends meeting for a good-bye party singing and praying together after a big feast. Pasted smiles at times, when I wanted to collapse and scream, "why are we doing this?" 

For I loved my time on the Sunshine Coast. Though financially it had been a challenge, its beauty surpassed it all.  On this coast, we had lived in a heritage house on the beach, rented a little cabin on 11 acres of wood and built a big Cape Cod style house of our own.  We were accustomed to daily breaths of salt air and views of changing seas. No wonder we wanted it all on film. 

At one point on the tape, we were standing on the wharf in Roberts Creek panning the ocean and it struck me that just about everyone we knew and loved had come to visit and stand in that place. Family, friends from far and wide. Because it was beautiful. Because it was remote. Because for some reason, we were there and we were loved.

Much time has passed. Though we have fallen in love with Ontario, its beauty, its variety, most of my closest friends are on those tapes. Like us, many have left the coast....for Europe, for other parts of Canada and even the US. But for one brief moment, we all lived there together and I'm thankful for the old video camera that tied it all up like a gift to show it again and again.

Remembering the Little Ones

          You know, I grew up in a home where my mother emphatically imposed her ideas on us that pets were a nuisance and were grand contributors to chaos and dirt in a home. Therefore, we had limited experience with pets. We had a little bird named Penny, a budgie that drank from our cereal bowls and pooped in our hair and on the sheers in the living room. Penny escaped one day and took her liberty beyond our back screen door. She didn't roam far and reappeared in the willow tree about a week later. She flew from the tree at my father's call and landed on his shoulder, but was never herself again. She came back starving, depleted and seemingly brain damaged. She could no longer judge distances and flew into walls and eventually drowned in the dishwater. A sad day for the pet deprived kids at our house. That, and a "dog for one day" fiasco are the only personal experiences I had with pets as a child. As an adult, I had a budgie for a short time when my son was little and it met its demise by flying into a wall heater. My son and I cried for days over "Mickie." I understand how attached one can be to an animal.

          Today, my good friends had to put their elderly cat to sleep. Sparing her of longsuffering from a number of ailments must have been no easy decision. That tiny little lady, Elfie, was over 16 years old. She showed up at their door when they lived on acreage in western Canada, seemingly out of nowhere and she became their constant companion. She was named after Mount Elphinstone, the mountain in the coastal range in the distant view from where they lived. Elfie was there to greet the birth of their baby son a year later and shortly after made the journey with the family to the Netherlands. She was a delicate, longhaired cat with unusual markings and a gentle way about her. She liked to curl up in a ball in the bowl on the table.

       My friends will long remember the joy Elfie brought into their family over all these years. There are no words for this particular brand of loss. It's just plain sad. She may have been a little one, but her family presence was great.

Delightful Tidbits

        In both Germany and Holland there were a few things beyond the expected that were purely liefsome. Just out of the ordinary...here are some in completely random order....

        Like this vendor selling fricadels on the Alexanderplatz in Berlin. There is actually a burning grill strapped around his shoulders. Fricadels are like fast food - a sausage-like thing made of ground pork and herbs.

And these walnuts were for sale....just on a little stand in front of a house in Geithoorn, where tourists walk along the canals.



All over Geithoorn, little boats were for rent for canal cruises. All colours and shapes, I was partial to these green ones.

The Lei linden Trees - The Dutch place poles between the trees

and weave them together.

And the hondentoilets - what a civilized way to deal with a doggy's doodoo.

There was a mourning dove roosting in our friend's Catalpa tree.



Finding we were on actual Canadian soil in the middle of a forest in Overijssel - at the Holten Canadian War Cemetery. Thirteen acres was set aside by the Dutch government as an official cemetery for those Canadians who lost their lives in the Netherlands.

At the gateway to the Markerwaarddijk, there is an 85 foot, 60 ton metal statue of a crouching man. Designed by Anthony Gormley, it is his commentary on the concern of the ever-changing environment. He says,

“One of the known environmental changes that is happening is the rising of the sea level through global warming,” explains Gormley. “It is critical to me that at the time of its making this work reacts with the viewer, the walking viewer, on the top of the polder and that the surface that the viewer stands on is the surface that the work stands on. The work cannot have a plinth. Over time, should the rising of the sea level mean that there has to be a rising of the dike, this means that there should be a progressive burying of the work.”

It would be sad to see this giant crouching man be slowly covered with water.

So there you have it....a few thoughts, random indeed, of things unexpected in the Netherlands and Germany.



And There was Berlin

     When our Dutch friend Hans asked his friends and coworkers where he should take the Canadians for a few days, he heard a resounding, "Berlin."  Now this was not something I would have expected. What an experience. We took a six hour drive on the Autobahn due east. Not one to drive at breakneck speed, Hans kept it steady as Audis and Porches flew past going 180kmp. I had always heard about the Autobahn, its reputation for speed, but it really was something to see for myself. I have one heavy-footed, German friend here in Canada who has a penchant for acceleration and now I know why. She was raised on German roads.

The Ampelmannchen - Berlin's beloved symbols on crossing light

        As we came into Berlin, we were disappointed. It seemed dirty and run down, crowded. But when we turned a corner onto Charlottestrasse, things changed rapidly. Exquisite architecture - Corinthian columns on many buildings and many cathedrals and embassies lined the streets. After a quick check in at our hotel, we headed out for the Brandenburg Gate and to walk where the wall had come down. We walked till blistered and saw famous shops selling chocolate and cars and expensive jewelry. We ended our day at the "Old Berliner" restaurant to enjoy "Crispy Knuckle" - a pork delicacy. And we had to try the Raspberry Wheat beer...a Berlin specialty.

The Brandenburg Gate - the entryway to the boulevard of linden trees

Up the "Beanpole" a television tower with panoramic vistas of the city

      Last February, we were contacted by Hans with a quick request for our full names and birthdates. Hans said it was for a surprise. We couldn't figure that one out, but when presented with the opportunity to tour the Reichstag, the German parliament building, we were delighted. Entering the building was by appointment only; the reason we needed to be registered for the tour.  What a slick operation. After going through security and showing our passports and having our purses scanned, we entered an elevator, were given headsets and instructed to head into the beehive. What a fete of German engineering. We were given the history of Berlin and Germany in about a 45 minute tour. As we walked up the beehive, we were instructed where to stop and where to look - a quick way to pack in the information. The parliament actually sits in a room under the hive. The hive is open to the elements at the top where air is let in and adjusted to best benefit those inside. Truly amazing.

Inside the beehive... the parliament sits in the room below this glass floor.

The Beehive - Inside the old architecture sits this structure.

One angle of the Reichstag

 On both evenings after hours of walking and looking we pulled up chairs and parked ourselves in the Gendarmarket, a public square with the German cathedral on one side, the French on the other and the opera house in the middle. This wide expanse was the stuff of movies. To sit and sip good coffee in this place with dear friends was the perfect end to perfect days. I don't know who recommended Berlin as a place for us to see, but I am truly thankful they did. God bless our friends, Hans and Jo, who arranged the whole thing.

The Gendarmarket

These Are A Few of my Favourite Things....

     Favourite places, times and memories....

The little town of Schermerhorn near the farm. This photo was taken just before 10:00pm.



The bikes just about anywhere. This one was in Edam.




The town of Edam with its Great Church, canal and cheese market.




The Palace - Het Loo, once the residence of Dutch Royalty in Apeldoorn.




The river-front, the narrow streets and crooked church in Kampen.




The Afsluitdijk - the dijk that helped to create the polder-land.




The glass angel-man in Zwolle.




The Cheese Market in Alkmaar. 



Geithorn - a village with no roads, just canals.