Whatever He Says

 The sun shone bright and the day was full of the promise of spring as our c ars converged on the small church standing at the side of a quiet country road . It was a glorious day for our purpose: remembering someone who would have loved to be there but who had more pressing business in heaven. The gathering was informal and simple, just  staff  of the agency that had supported the person as well as his friends and family. We simply sang songs that were his favourites and shared our memories.We laughed, and wiped away some tears and we all left with more than we came with. I loved all of the stories, but two shared by one of his support staff stuck with me. To understand them you need to know two things: he loved to sing and was irrepressible if the moment called for song, and he had an intellectual disability.  At one event they were at, he left his seat, mounted the podium and took the microphone. Then he sang the song, "Jesus Loves Me," and his staff said there...

"In the end, everything must become love. Perfection's name is love." Dietrich Bonhoeffer,  The Collected Sermons  P. 165 After I published yesterday's post, I read it again, and thought briefly, "What was I thinking?"  That thought often occurs when I have been completely honest. The desire to "self edit" rears up, the urge to present my "self" in a better light: to seem more humble--or pleasing in another way--take your pick from the list of common virtues! :) But what I posted was pretty much what I had written in my journal, and was what I really thought about yesterday, and the funny idea of changing what I wrote has a connection with something I was pondering this past weekend.  It had to do with the basic imperfection that lies at the heart of us all and the way we struggle against its acceptance in ourselves and others. I started thinking about this, when at the end of my work week, someone that I think of as highly prof...

By Belinda This is a very busy week, with a three day work conference to attend, so I went back to the archives and found this post from November 4 last year when I was on my way home from a visit to England.  I enjoyed re-reading it. I hope you don't mind being served some reruns! :) Oh, I just noticed that last year's comments came up too, as I republished! Just in case you wondered where they came from. :) I was going home to Canada and my brother Rob drove me to Birmingham Airport to catch a coach to Manchester, the airport my plane was leaving from. Rob dropped me off half an hour before the coach was due to leave. The clocks had gone back an hour the night before and I was glad for the extra time that morning. I had a large knapsack on my back and from behind me I heard a voice warning me that someone was entering the bus shelter and obviously wanted to avoid me swinging around and hitting him. I turned to see a young man, p...

By Belinda I just started a leadership certificate course through the University of Waterloo in partnership with the agency I work for, and the first module, Understanding Human Behaviour, sent me into a bit of a tizzy. I hadn't been in a tizzy for at least a week or so. It was about time for another one. You see, it involved taking the DISC  personality profile. For an example of what a profile looks like and to figure out where you might fall,   click here .  I`d done the test before and I was secretly hoping that my profile had changed, but no, it had not. I am still a high ``C`` and almost as high an ``S.`` C`s predominant quality is Conscientiousness and S is for Steadiness. You get the picture. The rest of my team who have taken the test are I`s or D`s--that means Dominance and Influence! The quadrants for D`s and I`s are the ones where the person acts upon or changes the environment. The C`s and S`s--well, they adapt to the environment. I want to be a move...

(I read this post from the past--January 08--and it brought a smile to my lips. Enjoy! Belinda) By Ang Cat I was in the bathroom the other day and realized that I need to dye my hair again, if I want to maintain that elusive appearance of "no grey." It's emerging, right on the top of my head and creeping down the sides just a few short months after the last application. A mix of black and grey topping off the lighter tones and highlights blended into the rest of my "glory." Why do we do this? I swore I wouldn't be caught in the trap. At the most I only apply dye twice a year. To do this I must let all the colour fall out until I am back to that salt and pepper look that somehow makes me feel older. After all "grey hair is the crown of the aged" isn't it? But wait a minute...I'm not aged. At the ripe old age of 41 I'm only half way through. I know women older than me who have a lot less grey, and they don't dye. It's in my genes ...

Last week, on his blog, Rolling Around in My Head, my friend Dave told of an encounter that moved him deeply, in a post entitled, Mary and Joseph: A Different Story This post is not directly about that story, but if you click on the title above, you can read it. You'll be glad you did. In an email about the post afterwards, Dave wrote some words that sank deeply into my heart: Let there be welcome here so that it is possible to imagine welcome - there. This is my prayer Dave's words made me think about the importance of being "welcome" for people. His post was about a couple with disabilities; but all of us need welcome and acceptance. This morning I read Luke 19, about Zaccheus, the tax collecter. Although I've read it so often; this time, it came alive for me in technicolour; I think, because Paul and I just watched the marvelous HBO mini series, John Adams, based on the Pulitzer Prize winning book by David McCullough, on the American Revolution and the Declara...

Playing for Change: Song Around the World “Stand by Me” I found this version of Stand by Me on Raspberry Rabbit last week and have wanted to share it ever since, if only for an excuse to listen to it again. I absolutely love it for its brilliant musicianship. Stand by Me, is one of my favourite songs, and it speaks to what I wrote about yesterday: We all need someone to stand with us, to be "for" us at some time or another. Lean on Me, another of my favourite songs has a similar them. "Standing with," somebody takes courage. Often it involves some risk. It might be inconvenient and involve sacrifice. It might take us out of our comfort zone. I look around at my friends and count myself very blessed. All of them are the kind of people who would stand with someone and have the courage to go against the flow. It is one of the things that I love about them and I include my dear Paul in that group. I don't think there is a conformist in the crowd. They are a passi...

By Joyful Fox I lay awake in the inky black thinking of today. Husband breathing softly, I reach under my pillow to turn off alarm...close to 5:00...I sigh softly...aware of the warmth of blankets and silent home. Wouldn't it be nice to burrow here awhile...a long while. These days have been hard. I'd rather not begin today. I smile to myself and choose to slide out of bed. I take captive, erring thoughts...and remember muted yellows and blues of my journal...the crisp white page awaiting first thoughts of the new morn...afghan of burgundies, rust, and evergreen... beckons from soft leather sofa. The Father's love stirs a longing in my soul. I need this...the first meeting of the day. Ready now, I scramble into clothes. Fingers fumble as I find the tag, slipping into athletic pants, silently snatching sweatshirt, ever mindful of all who slumber on...cautious now, I creep down the stairs. This time for seeking, listening, meditating, and exploring...far too precious to tarry...

I was in the bathroom the other day and realized that I need to dye my hair again, if I want to maintain that elusive appearance of "no grey". It's emerging, right on the top of my head and creeping down the sides just a few short months after the last application. A mix of black and grey topping off the lighter tones and highlights blended into the rest of my "glory". Why do we do this? I swore I wouldn't be caught in the trap. At the most I only apply dye twice a year. To do this I must let all the colour fall out until I am back to that salt and pepper look that somehow makes me feel older. After all "grey hair is the crown of the aged" isn't it? But wait a minute...I'm not aged. At the ripe old age of 41 I'm only half way through. I know women older than me who have a lot less grey, and they don't dye. It's in my genes they say. Well my jeans don't fit the same way they used to either. But yes, Mum did go grey ...

My husband picked up my brother after breakfast on the day of Christmas Eve. He arrived, cigarettes in hand - no additional clothes although he was staying for three days. His first words to me were, "Why did you have to put me in there - are you mentally ill, trying to kill me or something?" I prayed silently to the Lord for the right words, a humble attitude, a heart of love for my only sibling, a brother 19 mos. older than myself. "Hi Stephen,It's good to see you." I said gently coming from the kitchen. He didn't meet my eyes but looked down. He muttered, "I'm going out for a cigarette." I returned to the kitchen acknowledging that Stephen is in rough shape. The peace of our Heavenly Father settled upon me - I received it. My heart was grieved somewhat.I don't always know how to respond to Stephen and the dance that happens when my Dad and Mom, he and I are all together - my family of origin. I sighed...a mixture of different emotions de...

Psalm 139:14 (New International Version) 14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. "I glanced to see a brindle dog of an interesting lineage. The dog was running with an odd lope. Then I saw that his back right leg was missing. Gone. His gait was an adaptation for his disability... He glanced back, like something was chasing him, and I swear he smiled. Then he disappeared down an alleyway and was gone... I loved the fact that his 'dog-ness' was not even slightly compromised even though he was missing 25% of his legs. Sure, he'd adapted for the loss physically but psychologically, he was still just a dog. It was beyond cool." Dave Hingsburger--Chewing the Fat, May 7th 07 blog address: http://www.davehingsburger.blogspot.com/ Frances' voice coming over the phone was full of excitement. "Did you read Dave's blog about the dog?" she asked. Dave writes a blog on disability ...