Whatever He Says

We relaxed, some of us in the wingback recliners, with feet up;  others sinking into the welcoming, cushiony golden leather of the couch. Lamps softly lit the big room at the back of our house where a small group of our friends gets together weekly for dinner and a chat.  We call it "cell group," because in our faith, the analogy of "the body" is used for a church community.  So we are a small part of a body, a "cell;" in other words we're just a group of friends who love one another and enjoy getting together. And we encourage each other in life and faith. Last night we were on our second week of studying a book by  Royal Hamel . The book is called,  Unmuzzle Your Inner Sheep . It's about freeing yourself to share faith--not about putting yourself out to graze!  We're enjoying the conversation the book has prompted. We talked about the struggle between obeying the "Great Commission" to share the good news of Jesus' li...

I have a running list of things that hang like pegs on a washing line in my brain: Things to be done. Last week one of these was looming. Our pastor had been busy organizing a "ministry expo," to be held after church on Sunday. All the ministries in the church would have a booth set up to communicate their vision and purpose to church members and have sign up sheets, hopefully to recruit newly interested people who previously had no idea that such a wonderful opportunity existed. I needed to complete a description of the cell group that meets in our home each Thursday, and use picture frames to display the details. I'd been wracking my brains thinking how to describe "us," then I had the idea of asking the people who come, how they would describe our group. They brainstormed a number of adjectives and I wished that I had written them all down, they were so good. The basic picture that emerged was of a group that was welcoming, about "family," an...

I picked up the invitations as I left church two weeks ago; for the final Friendship Sunday of the summer. We've had two "Friendship Sundays" so far over the hot summer months; church services that are deliberately welcoming to visitors. Dress is casual, we have a short and engaging service, and then a BBQ lunch with everyone bringing salads and desserts to share. It's been fun and I've enjoyed these Sundays. They feel festive and friendly and I've seen many new faces in church. I've been great at bringing salad and dessert; not so great at bringing a friend. So that's why I picked up a bunch of the invitations to a corn roast, printed on stiff card and gaily decorated. This time I would invite everyone in our neighbourhood, I thought.  But instead of giving them out, I didn't. Last Sunday came and I beat myself up before leaving for church with a salad and a Bavarian Apple Torte, feeling badly that yet again I would arrive without the mo...

By Belinda Disasters--well, let's just say they are all relative. Bearing that in mind, we had one at cell group dinner last night. Let me set the stage. It was Thursday, so people began coming upstairs, or in from the chilly February Ontario evening between 6 and 6.30, until 13 people including  4 teenage girls, 5 people in their 60's and others between were setting tables, opening cupboards and getting out condiments, slicing buns, carrying salad and salad dressings and setting out the drinks, while I worried about whether the  Pulled Pork  recipe that I had made for the first time, had turned out right.  The buns lightly toasted were brought to the tables and I called people from couches and conversations to be seated. They came in a flurry that looked like a grand game of musical chairs. The salad circulated, the pork was heaped onto buns and declared just right. I was relieved! Something in my own soul is fed in some inexplicable way when I have placed a...

By Belinda The lawns in town, including ours, look like the face of a grizzled old man who hasn't shaved for several days. That's what the long stalked, gone-to-seed dandelions, reminded me of this morning! Yes, that is a suitably unkempt image. But I was thinking of other things besides the wild lawns of Bond Head as I drove to work. I was thinking of conversations gone equally wild.  You see, our cell group finally finished our study on the book, Holy Conversation  and we almost missed an article tucked away, right at the back, almost as a little extra: Holy Conversation The Lost Art of Witness . Someone suggested we read it, and when we did, we spent the evening discussing it (if you're interested, you can find it by clicking the link.) The article talked about the four factors of genuine conversation, quoting Australian lecturer in practical theology, Geoff Broughton . The factors are: mutuality, reciprocity, openness and respect. Richard Peace, the author of...

By Belinda I'm still working on finding a conversation partner for our cell group study Holy Conversation . Paul and I have one person in mind to ask--and if he says yes, we will ask him if we can share him! He asked me with great interest if I've found my "person" yet, and when I said no, he said "Well, don't give up." Next time I see him I'm going to ask if he wants to be the "person" and whether Paul and I can share him. It sounds rather predatory doesn't it? :) I know there were people who prayed for my brother, Rob, after I wrote about how downhearted he felt when I spoke to him just over a week ago. This past Saturday he was feeling much brighter in spirit--thank you for praying. My nephew John came over every night last week after work to walk Bruce--a big help. I have been checking flights for January and Paul has decided to go with me this time. Rob was so happy to know that we would be there soon. His pain and fatigue are ...

By Belinda It was lunch time yesterday; a gray, drizzly October day. Paul was down at Jane and Finch with an elderly friend who was doing some shopping. For the friend shopping meant going from store to store in search of the cheapest possible toilet tissue, while Paul explained the finer points of comparison, such as the number of sheets and thickness. "This might cost 2 cents more but you won't have to use as many sheets!" It was exhausting, but being patient with the person you may one day bccome is always a good thing! Our very thrifty friend needed a washroom break, so Paul waited while he used the facilities and the "free" toilet tissue. He wouldn't be moving fast, so he knew it would be a while before he returned. On a nearby bench he noticed two men, one elderly and one young. He went over and sat beside them. To make conversation, Paul commented on the wet weather. "The weather is good," said the elderly man in a lilting Caribbea...

By Belinda I wasn't worried when our friend Jamie missed cell group two weeks ago. Every two weeks he switches to the swing shift at Honda, and I sometimes get mixed up with which shift he's on, so that's where I thought he was. He was at the book fair  last week and when he casually dropped into the conversation the words, "I had a heart attack," I thought he was using a figure of speech. As in--he had a heart attack "about something." But he wasn't. In his own laid back style, he was giving serious information. He'd been playing hockey on Thursday two weeks ago, when he felt unwell and nauseous. He left the game and drove home, by which time he had a pain in the side of his jaw. He called his kids and his son came and drove him to the hospital where he was quickly admitted and treated for a heart attack. He had a stint put in and was released after the weekend, but can't drive for a month and is off work for at least a month. Jamie...

By Belinda We sat around the supper table eating pork chops simmered in mushroom soup. Bowls of rice, and vegetables of orange, yellow and shades of green passed from hand to hand, and the cares of the day and a week almost done, fell from our shoulders as we caught up with one another's news. Of course we wondered how the election results would pan out in Ontario where today was voting day. I had voted on my way home, and, as I entered the rural church building that was the voting site, I was seized with a sense of solemnity and privilege hard won; the right to choose. Over supper we chatted about how the voting stations were changed from the norm in several places for this election. Brenda said that originally, the college where she works had been designated, but later there was a change of plans the votes had to be cast elsewhere.. Somehow the message didn't get through to everyone that the voting was to take place in a different location and all day people showed up ...

By Belinda "What's cooking?" It's the question people ask as they come through the front door on Thursday  evenings. The casserole that I took out of the freezer for cell group this week was not what expected it to be. When I took the foil off the container thawing on my stove top it was the shepherd's pie that I had created out of the left over pot roast and gravy from a couple of weeks ago, seasoned with Worcestershire sauce until it tasted good to me and topped with mashed potato and grated cheese. I had intended it for some humbler occasion than cell group dinner. My plan had been lasagne, although when recently making multiple pans of it I had mistakenly thawed out chilli sauce instead of tomato sauce and I had to explain the unexpected kidney beans in the first lasagne I served. I figured that the shepherds pie would be large enough, but later, as it was baking, just for good measure I peered into the fridge, full of many odds and ends of leftove...

By Belinda I have continued thinking about Thursday's post on the issue of abortion. It generated some thoughtful comments, and a private email discussion with another friend, all of which helped me sort out my thoughts better than I had when I wrote on Thursday evening. What I wrote I sounds judgemental and black and white. And I used the words "erase the result of an unthinkable assault." Abortion ends a life and I diminished that fact by my choice of words. That doesn't mean though, that I stand in judgement on anyone who has made that choice, no matter how painfully or easily. So I wanted to come back to the topic with greater care. The friend who wrote to me privately said that what bothered her was that many who believe it is wrong to kill an unborn baby through abortion advocate for capital punishment and support their country going to war to kill other people, especially in countries that supply their oil. She emphasized the importance of giving women ...

By Belinda I've said so often how much I love Thursday nights--the night when it is a full house around here. This Thursday, I stopped at the post office as usual on my way home. Laurie, the lady who runs the post office, was reading a book behind the counter and had a note book and highlighters out. She told me with excitement that there is a Bible Study in Bradford and that she is studying a Beth Moore book there, but, she said, she has an hour of homework to do every day. Laurie is dark haired, with kind, brown eyes. She is short and of stocky build and Ukrainian background. She was going to the Ukrainian Orthodox church in town, St.Catherine's, but now attends Holy Martyrs of Japan in Bradford. She was telling one of her customers that she had said to her priest, "Father why don't you have a Bible study?" which prompted the customer to tell her about the Beth Moore study. Laurie felt as though she had stumbled upon a well kept secret--a Bible study in Br...

By Belinda The supper dishes are cleared away and the dishwasher softly swishes them clean in the nearby kitchen. The cranberry coloured tablecloth lies in a heap on a side table, ready for the crumbs to be shaken outside into the night at the end of the evening. The table pad is neatly folded, ready for the next meal around the long, oval pine table. A group of friends settles into either easy chairs or the ochre leather couch. Anticipation hangs in the air along with the scent of an apple cinnamon candle. Jane, a woman in her mid fifties, with short gray hair and dancing eyes, looks around the room with a smile as she prepares to start our cell group study. She leads the group with a deliberate, animated style. The lights in the two adjoining rooms are off, and outside the night is dark. Our circle of friends seems to sit in a pool of light. I suddenly have a moment of intense joy. Barb, Jane's friend, asks, "Belinda, were you about to say something?" And I try to expla...

By Belinda On Thursday at cell group we had a great party! We feasted and laughed and read stories out loud. Tiffany-Amber pointed out that eggnog is called chicken milk in French and I've been smiling at that thought ever since! Barb Hustler, one of our cell family, shared a story she wrote. She prefaced it with, "I'm no writer." I beg to differ! I loved it and asked if I could publish it here. She said yes, so here is her story: If Jesus Had Been Born in 2009 And it came to pass that there lived in Bond Head a couple called Mary and Joseph. They had lived there for some time but because the government decided everyone should go to their birthplace for a census, they needed to return to Alliston. Joseph had been born there but moved to Bond Head where he met Mary. Oh, how lovely she was. They were very much in love. Anyway, now they had to return to Joseph's home town Alliston, but wouldn't you know it, there was a major winter storm with white outs and every...

It started this morning with an email. I knew it was Thursday. Cell group night. But Belinda was barely home from England. It was a lot to expect. "It will start next week," I told myself. But this morning, there was the email. The subject line said, "Tonight", and the email itself read: Hi Every one, I am back from England and have supper prepared for anyone who would like to come for a meal and fellowship tonight. I haven't heard yet whether the new books on Emotionally Healthy Spirituality have arrived, but if so, we will commence the study next week. Meanwhile, I hope to see those who can come, tonight! Love, Belinda Oh joy! Cell group tonight! Sometimes you don't fully realize how much you miss someone until you suddenly find out you are going to see them again very soon. I fired an email back... "I am so excited about this being Thursday and you being home and supper being on the table for whoever comes... I feel like I'm coming "home...

Song of Solomon 2:4 (Amplified Bible) 4He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love [for love waved as a protecting and comforting banner over my head when I was near him]. Calm returned to my heart as a big task at work was accomplished today. My shoulders grew lighter and laughter returned to my soul! That felt so good. I could relax and feel like a human being instead of that tense ninny who had to apologize to half a dozen people the next day. I noticed those in my immediate vicinity heaving sighs of relief. Was I really so grim and negative? Yes, I know the answer. Tonight five of us sat after dinner, discussing the questions in the study we've been doing on the armour of God as described in Ephesians 6. Our focus was the footwear; the shoes of the gospel of peace. One question was: How did God make peace with you? Paul's answer gave me much food for thought. He spoke of the symbolic custom of breaking bread in the middle east, and how those trick...

I thank God for the delightful rest at cell group this week; a study book taken to work to read at lunchtime, but forgotten at the office by one too weary to go back for it. It hadn't been read at lunchtime anyway. And I thank God too, for the conversation that took place instead, around a dinner table. A conversation as important--maybe more so--than the study that we didn't have. She had knocked on my office door earlier that evening. I was under pressure to complete certain tasks before I left to go home; tired and stressed. As she opened the door, she said, "I made peanut butter cookies for cell group tonight." "That's so nice, but I'm really busy, I can't chat now," I know that my voice was terse, my mind a million miles away from peanut butter cookies. She was quick to apologize and vanished quietly, leaving me to my computer screen and piles of budget pages. Half an hour later I knew that I had to leave if I was going to have the casserole...

It was cell group night and the big back room hummed with conversation and laughter as we shared a meal. Around the big, oval table, there were three generations of our family, and friends who had gathered to do a study after supper. Brenda was still dressed in a suit jacket and skirt as she hadn’t changed since coming home from work. She was animatedly telling a funny story from her day, when we heard the distant chime of the doorbell from the front of the house. I opened the door to find a canvasser from one of the main political parties, holding a clipboard. A young girl that looked like she might be his daughter was with him. He wanted to verify the people he had on his list as residing in our home and also asked if we planned to vote in the upcoming election. I quickly confirmed the names, and said that Paul and I would be voting. “What about Brenda?” he asked. “She doesn’t vote,” I said, sure that I remembered that from a recent conversation. “Oh,” he said, with an understanding ...

It is Tuesday night - cell group night - and Belinda is in England. It won't be the same. It couldn't be the same. But it is our last night of the Alpha program, and so we are to go ahead anyway, even without our hostess/friend/shepherdess of the flock. I was the first to arrive. I saw Paul's jacket from work laid neatly across a chair in the glassed in front porch, so I knew he had been home, but his car was gone again, and so was he. The door had been left unlocked for us though, so I walked in, kicked off my shoes and put the pizza I had just picked up onto the counter. I gently moved Paul's copy of The Daily Light and his glasses off the kitchen table and began to get out the things that would be needed for supper. It seemed a little weird to be putzing about in Belinda's kitchen without Belinda there, but at the same time it felt very comfortable - knowing that this is what she would want me to do. Tiffany-Amber and Victoria must have heard me because they soon...

One by one they came, into the house fragrant with the scent of baking ham. Some were greeted with the delighted squeals of two little girls--those greetings for the big friends who hadn't been on Tuesday nights for weeks due to college or work. Sam, Lesley-Ann, Susan, Jorie, Ron, Andrew, Ann, Susan P. David, Lori-Lei, Lance and little Ava, joining Paul and me, Brenda and Jay and Tiffany-Amber and Victoria. They came bearing gifts for the food bank, which were stored under the tree so as not to clutter the kitchen. Tiffany-Amber and Victoria decided to make a sign so that guests would know where to put their contributions.I thought that it was the best decorated Christmas tree I have seen--and I think we just started a new tradition. We put food out on the table buffet style, and in the candle lit house, people found places to sit and talk and laugh while they ate. After dessert Susan played part of a CD she had brought, with the writer Walter Wangerin, reading his own imaginat...