Whatever He Says

With a light knock at the door and a quick, "Hello!" I entered, balancing the teas I held in my hands. My friend heard me from her armchair just around the corner. "Come on in,"  she called. Her voice, once sweet and crystal clear as she commanded her household, betrayed weariness today. I asked how she was, but it was evident. Her expression was dispirited, her shoulders slumped, and I didn't miss the diamond tear that glistened at the corner of one eye. I had arrived on a stressful day. I set down our paper cups of tea, took off my coat and sat down in the chair opposite. Our weekly visits together are usually happy, with loud peals of laughter, but there have been increasing days like today. Our conversations may cover the past, family news, anything of interest I've read or heard, or deep mutual ponderings on big questions. To me, she is a safe place. I came to her at a time a few years ago, when I felt like a misfit in my church family. As I poured ...

It happens every now and then; getting lost; and I need to find my bearings again, the true and sure things, including my best "me," which sometimes goes missing in action. I need to find home, that place of retreat and security, where I know and am known. Home safe. I pick up my pen and write. A heart can pour through pen to page and in doing so find such sweet relief. I quiet my restless soul and sit silent. I read. I read the words I need to soak me; to soften me; to move my heart back to kindness, gentleness and humility. I close my eyes to listen better--just in case God might have something to say. He sometimes speaks against the background tick of clock, whirring chimes and the hum of a house. I hear a welcome. Welcome home. And I am grateful; to be enfolded in the grace that only waits for an open heart.

Susan and I spent yesterday with ten members of her team, at a day of training. On a break I checked emails on my Blackberry. There was one from my friend, Dave, sharing his thoughts about a bus ride to work. I couldn't help myself; I boldly blurted out in a return email,"I love this. Can I post it on my blog?" "Um...yes," he wrote back, asking only that I let him know when I would use it. Susan usually posts on Fridays, so I thought that I would save it for Monday. At the end of our long day, Susan was at our house for cell group. We had dinner, and then, just as we finished clearing away the dishes, she turned to me and said, "I'm so exhausted, I'm going home. I don't think I could focus on the study tonight." She had been up since 4.00 a.m. with back pain. "How would you like not to write a blog post tonight?" I asked. And she said something she never says:"I would love that." "God has it covered...

Proverbs 16:9 (New International Version) 9 In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps. The members of a local congregation in need of a new pastor, were each given a list of 18 pastoral qualities to prioritize. From the results, the search committee would create a profile of the ideal replacement pastor. While there is wisdom in defining the qualities sought in a pastoral candidate, this caused me to ponder the seemingly random way in which my life has unfolded. Some might have a shopping list of "must have" qualities in a potential spouse, but I didn't. At first I didn't "see" Paul at all and by the time I did, I had already turned him down. I was beside myself a few months later when it dawned on me that I had make a mistake. We were both shy, so I was convinced that I had missed my one and only chance at happiness. "He will never, ever again, ask me out, " I sobbed to Mum. But happily, he did, and at last we were bot...

Dear Friends, Magda Wills, a blog reader and writer friend, often shares her reflections on what has been written on Whatever He Says, via email. This time I asked if I could share her thoughts on a recent post, here. The post was, "Nothing for the Journey," which mentioned Mary and Martha. Here are Magda's thoughts--with thanks: It's by grace we are saved, not by our works (nor non-works) lest we should boast. Years ago a close Christian friend asked what I thought it really meant to be saved. What are we saved from? I remember answering "from ourselves." God has used poor health, a Balaam-like experience and many closed doors in the transforming process to a Mary. Eventually we learn that God is trying to tell us something. But that usually doesn't happen until we experience the truth for ourselves and then we start making the right choices out of our own desire rather than His discipline. Our will and God's will become one and the same. That has b...

We had a few minutes before leaving for work, to chat. The night before, we had been talking with some friends about Inuvik in the far north. Paul visited there a few years ago with his Uncle John and loved it. He reflected on the mixed population of Inuit and white people. "A lot of people up there who aren't associated with mining, are trying to run away from something or someone," he said. There must be so many stories, so many broken people with broken dreams, I thought. He told me about his last day in Inuvik. He and Uncle John decided to go for a walk through town and went into a coffee shop which had locally produced art for sale. Uncle John went over to a display to have a look. Paul noticed a man sitting up against the wall, almost like he wished he could hide behind it. He looked to be in his early thirties; slight of build and of medium height. Paul felt a compelling urge to go and talk to him, so he went over and started chatting. He mentioned in conversatio...

2 Thessalonians 1:11 (New International Version) 11With this in mind, we constantly pray for you, that our God may count you worthy of his calling, and that by his power he may fulfill every good purpose of yours and every act prompted by your faith. Purity + Power + Promptings = Purposes fulfilled Three keys shimmer in this verse, like small gems set in a larger piece. They might easily be overlooked, unless one peered closely at the finer detail. To be counted worthy of his calling...Could we ever be? Our worthiness is in Christ's standing in our place before God and our acceptance of that gift. Not only must he stand in our place though, but he must be given room and right within us: to live his life, in and through us--to transform our broken, wounded selves; to gently heal and straighten crooked pathways. Yes, Lord, I want to "be counted worthy," but all of it, I know, must be your doing, in response to an open, waiting and yielded, heart. And, oh, that by his power ...

Three hours driving carefully into the blackness of the night, the white flecks of snow driving mercilessly at our car, mercifully shod with snow tires only two days before. My eyes strained to follow the path laid out by those ahead of me, my arms steadily gripping the wheel, my heart quietly speaking, "In quietness and confidence shall be your strength." Forty seven years before those words had been pasted by loving hands on a white card on a black page by my Granny Kay, her gift to me for my confirmation, my public profession of faith within my denomination. All the way home, as I stared at white on black, my mind and heart pondered, as many times before, the meaning of those words written so long ago, black on white on black. The rounded characters of her English style handwriting on that white card spoke to me, as always, of the comfort, warmth and kindness of her character. Dear Granny Kay, specially beloved second wife to my widowed grandfather, precious and dear, Bish...

I long for the snow...pure...white...deep - soft heaps of winter still. Eventide comes. Lights glisten on crystal flakes. I too, await the snowstorm. Expectant...hopeful...yearning. Will it be? I seek more than snow. I long for peace, a quiet in my soul, a heart prepared during this advent season. Advent means "to come"...celebration of birth of the Christ. Immanuel...God with us. Still dear heart, quiet the chaos from within, from without. Look to your Father.Come kneel awhile. Ponder tiny babe...swaddling cloth...the straw...shepherds...angels...Mary...Joseph a king born in manger...simple,beautiful,the message of Christmas... Love, peace, and joy...in my heart to spill over...to touch the ones I love...who love me too. Again His still, quiet voice whispers...I need to hear. To remember...a promise given. "For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us; And the government will rest on His shoulders; And His name will be called Wonderful, Counsellor, Mighty...

Whenever I am driving between the hours of 9:00 p.m. and 11:00 p.m.,I have always enjoyed the program, "Candlelight and Wine" on weeknights on 98.1 FM. Although I seldom listen to it now, I had the privilege Friday evening, while driving home from Barrie after a Christmas shopping marathon. I relaxed as the easy-listening music softly filled the suburban and the glistening snow sparkled from the streetlights. Soon, Don Jackson's deep, soothing voice began sharing a story. Expectant now, I turned up the volume. I knew I was in for a treat -this is the part of the program that has always resonated so deeply with me. Don Jackson talked about a professor of philosophy who was demonstrating a life-principle to his class. The Professor carefully filled a large glass jar with rocks. When he could get no more rocks in the jar, he asked the class if it was full. They responded "yes". He said, "Not so", as he reached down under his lectern and then procee...