Way Too Long

    With good friends battling cancer and the days and months and years mounting on the calendar, my husband and I are starting to fight the good fight for our health.  Would you mind if I I have been taking an on-line,  "wake-up call" type of course about the nature of disease and the elements of healthy living. Oh my. Sure wish I'd paid attention to this years ago.  But I'm happy to report that we have made radical changes in what is in our cupboards, fridge and cooking pots. For far too long we've lived as if these God-given bodies are immortal, all the while watching the mirror and noticing things thicken and descend. We've now decided to buy organic and we pay twice as much to purchase chemical-free and antibiotic-free meat. The pressure cooker we bought almost a year ago has been dusted off and is blowing off steam almost daily as we enjoy concoctions abundant in fresh vegetables and lean meats, complex grains and beans. My husband is a creative cook, a researched culinarian who is fearless is suffusing stews and pilafs with an abundance of spices. And my great delight is to return from work to tantalizing smells as I hit the driveway. The key is not too over-indulge, even though the food itself is healthy.


I've also finally committed to taking vitamins. For years I've balked at it, thinking it was all a hoax and would openly pooh-pooh those who lined up at the local health food store to carry out numerous jars. Taking a superfood like blue-green algae would never have occurred to me, had I not taken the time to reflect on its value. And now, I'm committed to upping the health factor. Small steps, one or two at a time.

Trying to move a bit more, as I learned the lymphatic system, the body's cleaner, doesn't have a pump and movement makes it work more effectively.

And then there is taking care of emotional health....trying to do what it says in Philippians 4:8, "...whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things."  What a battle sometime to keep thoughts positive, but the negative only has a detrimental effect on these bodies. 


So on we go....onwards and upwards!

An Unforgettable Birthday Moment

       Today is my birthday. I actually forgot about it until I got to work and someone wished me well. I don't think I've ever forgotten my birthday before. It's not like I hadn't thought about it earlier in the week, but just momentarily it slipped my mind. Surrounded by wonderful people, I received emailed messages and created e-cards throughout the day. There were phone calls from friends and of course my beloved son got me out of class. How wonderful to hear that voice.

       But one call touched me so that I can't stop weeping. My father, my beloved dad, called and said, "Wait, listen to this." And he played a little birthday song on a tiny hurdy-gurdy that had been in the drawer in his back room for years. He said he thought of it this morning, had no idea where the little music machine was, but "The Lord must have put my hand right on it," he said. So he delighted me with this birthday tune. 
       You see, I found out recently that my father has Alzheimer's. We've suspected for some time, and even though he was tested three years ago, by a simple oversight, we were never notified. My dear dad doesn't know this diagnosis. I pray he never does. When I found out, my heart was flooded with compassion and a deeper understanding of his daily trials. For him to remember the hurdy-gurdy and my birthday, is a gift I'll treasure always. 

The Roller Coaster

Life, of late, has been a proverbial roller coaster ride. Events with family and friends have had high highs and the lowest of lows. I would never pay money to get on the Behemoth at Canada's Wonderland and I don't like these emotional roller coasters either. Faith in God is the only lifeline here.


The uphill has its own peculiar struggle. This is the outward living with extraordinary trials on a day to day basis. There can be a tough slog to the top of the crest. I can hear the gears grinding and it's oh-so-slow at times. I look over the edge of the car and only see catastrophe looming, should I deviate even one millimetre from the track. I hold tight waiting for the next event and wonder if things will ever change. It's at this time I focus on Jesus and His Word, and look neither to the left or right. I find comfort and resolve in His face.


Then all of a sudden, there's a breakthrough - the radical change. For a few brief seconds, there's a level area. I take a moment and breathe in fresh air. There's a momentary rest. It's here I find time to build up my strength, to enjoy the Lord's company, just sitting on His lap.


But life goes on. There's the downslope ride. It can be easier than moving up the hill, but I still need to brace myself as I go. If I don't hold tight to the Lord, will I be able to make it unscathed to the bottom?


The worst part of this roller coaster life-ride are the unexpected turns, when I am jerked from one direction to another unexpectedly. It feels like I'm going to be flung over the edge into the abyss. I'm minding my own business, moving along and all of a sudden there's a phone call or email that changes everything.  I learn, often the hard way, not to hold on tightly to my personal agenda. I need to drop everything and focus on another's need, another's plan. These are times of sacrifice and holding tightly to the Lord's hand.

This is the stuff of life. High highs. Low lows. And that easy part in between. The trick is to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus and find His peace always.

Hebrews 12:1-2 says " ...since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith..."

Happy New Year!

It's the last day of 2011 and here is my hope for all of us in 2012:  that we would see the hand of God move in the circumstances of our lives; that we would know He has great plans for us; and that we would have the desires of our hearts. Sounds heavy, doesn't it? It sounds almost ominous and frought with responsibility. But wouldn't it be wonderful to hand it all over to the God who made you and to realize he wants only good for you? That He actually has a purpose for you? That he wants to give you your heart's desires?

In the last years, I have become increasingly convinced that the Lord is good, and only good. Because He is love and His motivation is love, He is for me, and is good to me. I know the Bible says it, and now, in my heart, I believe it. In the midst of trials and tribulations, when the world throws dung from every side, God is there, "God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble." (Psalm 46:1) So I look for His hand.

We are here by God's choice. He loves us and reveals His plan for us as we look at Him: "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11) Again, He is good. So I ask Him what He wants for me.

Like a joyful Father, and He is a joyful Father, He loves to give gifts to His children. "Delight yourself also in the LORD,  And He shall give you the desires of your heart."  (Psalm 37:4) He places His desires in our hearts and He fulfills them in His time. These desires fulfilled bring the greatest joy. So I pray and ask for those desires to be reached. And I thank Him for all He is and does.

Happy New Year. Happy New Day...full of His mercy and love.

Merry Christmas

     It’s early Christmas morning and it’s quiet. In the last days, in a flurry of running and wrapping, shopping and smiling, it’s been hard to schedule in a time just to breathe. But now, I ignore the ticking clock on the mantle and, I sit and reflect.
     Yesterday I had an almost two-hour car ride to pick up my son. Listening to various radio programs, I had the realization that the non-Christian world, right here in our country, doesn’t know what to do with “Christmas.” They appear confused or pressured to lean to one side or the other. There’s the long-standing back and forth on whether or not to say the words, “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays” by shop-keepers and bank tellers. But yesterday on a program on CBC, I heard the epitome. On a show where people were telling “holiday” stories, (none of which had one iota to do with Christmas as a celebration), the announcer said, “Happy December 25th Day, everyone.” That one really made me sad. It felt as though the person who said it was as lost as one could possibly be.
     On that same station and in malls everywhere, there are potent, life-giving hymns being played. In public places, traditional Christmas hymns such as, “Silent Night”, “Joy to the World” and “O Holy Night” make their way onto song lists. The message is there: Jesus was born and He had a purpose in mind:

“Peace on Earth and mercy mild - God and sinners reconciled!”

“Born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth.”

(Hark the Herald Angels Sing)

What child is this who, laid to rest

On Mary's lap is sleeping? …

Nails, spear shall pierce Him through,

The cross be borne for me, for you.

Hail, hail the Word made flesh,

The Babe, the Son of Mary.

(What Child is This)

The French version of “O Holy Night” brings light and understanding:

Minuit, chrétiens, c’est l’heure solennelle
Où l’Homme-Dieu descendit jusqu’à nous,
Pour effacer la tache originelle,
Et de son Père arrêter le courroux.
Le monde entier tressaille d’espérance,
À cette nuit qui lui donne un Sauveur.
Peuple, à genoux, attends ta délivrance
C’est pour nous tous qu’il naît, qu’il souffre et meurt.
Peuple, debout! Chante ta délivrance.
Noël! Noël! Chantons le Rédempteur!

Midnight, Christians, it is the solemn hour
When God as man descended among us
To expunge the stain of original sin
And to put an end to the wrath of his father.
The entire world thrills with hope
On this night which gives us a savior.
People, on your knees, attend your deliverance.
It is for us all that he was born, that he suffered and died.
People, stand up, sing your deliverance!
Christmas! Christmas! Let us sing the Redeemer!

These songs, and so many others reflect what’s written in the gospels. He is what we’re celebrating. His purpose, His goodness, His love. His message is simple, yet profound: He loves us. He loved us enough to set aside his throne and live among us and to provide an eternity with Him.
Merry Christmas!　

　

Tis the Season

     My beloved grade five/six class joined the rest of our little private school in visiting the local seniors home to perform our Christmas concert. School uniforms pressed and tucked, the classes lined up in the halls to enter the great room. I looked around and saw dozens of seniors, dressed immaculately, their walkers parked close by their wingback chairs. Camera in hand, I scanned the faces of young and old. As each class stepped in to perform, our enthusiastic music teacher created a bridge between both groups who timidly faced each other. The carols brought smiles and no doubt reflection - our older friends remembering the past and our young students anticipating their futures. I felt caught in the middle somehow and felt tears roll in hearing songs about the Saviour of all. "Let every heart prepare Him room..." Indeed...let every heart prepare room for Him. There's no time like the present. He waits with arms wide open.

Carravagio Nativity

A Mother

        Early on a turning day, the quiet veranda beckoned. Out of the mist, the day unhurriedly dawned. With the azure sea waiting, Martha slipped on her down vest, picked up her coffee cup and navigated her way hip-first through the screen door, carefully, so as not to let it slam and waken the twins. She was jealously guarding that quiet half hour before the riotous demands for breakfast began.

       Settling in the rickety wooden deckchair, she took a deep breath and made a firm decision: for the next 30 minutes, she would quiet the loud lists forming her day and just be.
       Past the salt-scraped floor-boards, she let her gaze fall on the dewy garden. Oak leaves and acorns were starting to scatter to fill in the blanks between the last remaining cosmos and cleome. The rockery, guarded by still-blooming marigolds and copious hens and chicks would soon be joined by the wild mushrooms - boletus and the little browns - the camel-colored, earthy ones. But today, there was still the promise of warmth in the air. The fall sun was doing its best to warm the swelling sea.

        Autumn had long since been Martha’s favourite season, her internal clock tuned to the new beginnings the school year offered. But today, well into October, a deep melancholy threatened to overtake her as she thought of them - her boys. It was their last year of high school. Where had the time gone? Why was it moving ever-faster at break-neck speed? They were no longer those tawny-haired, sweaty boys tearing up and down the beach, delighted in the simple things - the cast-off crab shell, the deep blue sea glass or the intact bivalves washing up on the shore. They had run from tide-pools to her lap for quick kisses, snacks and explanations to beach questions, only to fade into their bunks at day’s end to dream blue in quiet exhaustion.

        Now her sons needed her less. Their eyes betrayed their hearts - they already had one foot out the door. As much as she told herself that it would be tragic if they forever stayed within her reach, she longed for more days when they saw her as someone with something of value to impart.
       “Enough!” Martha said aloud, “Enough.” Taking a sip of her coffee, and struggling out of her chair, she watched the ‘V’ of geese flying high overhead and heard a stirring in the kitchen.
       “Mom!” she heard and she smiled to herself.