Whatever He Says

 All praise to the God and Father of our Master, Jesus the Messiah! Father of all mercy! God of all healing counsel! He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us. We have plenty of hard times that come from following the Messiah, but no more so than the good times of his healing comfort—we get a full measure of that, too.   When we suffer for Jesus, it works out for your healing and salvation. If we are treated well, given a helping hand and encouraging word, that also works to your benefit, spurring you on, face forward, unflinching. Your hard times are also our hard times. When we see that you're just as willing to endure the hard times as to enjoy the good times, we know you're going to make it, no doubt about it. ( 2 Corinthians 1:3-6 , The Message ) By Belinda It leaped out at me from the page ...

By Belinda It has been a long day--my memoir snippets will continue, but not tonight I'm afraid! I will shoot for Thursday. Here is something a little less taxing for my brain; a story that Brenda shared with me. Brenda works in the front office of a private boarding and day school for boys in grades 6-12. The boys are the joy of her job. She loves them, keeps them in line, teases them and laughs with them. Last week she overheard a conversation between a group of boys. One of them, referring to a game he was playing on his laptop, said, "That's retarded." "Now why would you say that?" said another boy, "that's offensive." And the boy with the laptop was silenced. Later in the week, the mother of the second boy was at the school and Brenda told her what had happened. She said, "Your boy was good when no one was watching. Make sure when Mother's Day comes, you get something extra special, because you are doing a good job." "So...

Psalm 61:2-3 (New International Version) 2 From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. 3 For you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the foe. I had spotted them from the back window, drawn by the sound of their voices and laughter; two girls with skipping ropes that had been gifts at the birthday party they'd just been to. On the long spring green lawn they swung their ropes and skipped, hair streaming in the breeze; carefree as only children can be. Oh, how I love them, I thought. Moments later they came in from their Sunday afternoon play and asked if they could have a story from Parables on the Pond. They know with complete confidence that whatever I might be doing I would drop it to share a precious few moments with them, and they know that I love this children's book of devotional stories. And so they snuggled, one on each side of me on the couch, as we turned to the next story in the book, Jo...

I'm a Sunday School teacher, scheduled to teach every four weeks and the class of 16 or so grade 4-6-ers includes 4 of my grandchildren. Last week was my second time up to bat. I fell in love with the children the first week. Anyone who has spent an hour with 16 unique individuals; sponges for God but full of mischief, knows what it is to be well and truly hooked. Well, that's what happened to me at least. Last week the lesson was all about Adam and Eve's fateful decision. The children learned about decision making and how to greatly increase the odds of making a good one by praying about them first. I spent time on Saturday cutting out white oblongs, yellow diamonds and red octagons from poster board, for the children to make into road signs, on which they could write messages to help them remember how to make good decisions; messages such as "Stop," "Think," or "Pray." Most of the children took their signs upstairs with them to show their par...

I ran to the window, attracted by a relentless movement. Several days of gusty wind and dancing rain had given the land a fresh "wash and blow dry" and the coat of snow had vanished from Ontario in mid January; an unusual thing. Green dared to show itself in plant roots; vibrant spring life playing peek-a-boo with winter. But now something was afoot outside and lazily swirling, down they drifted, an army of a million foot soldiers taking back the land into captivity. As soft and light as goose feathers, but theirs was a deceptive gentleness, for the green was quickly vanishing beneath this gentle force of white. A phrase that has lingered in my mind for months came back to haunt me over subsequent days as I thought about the power of many small things, small acts, small thoughts--in the same direction; "A long obedience in the same direction." I'd heard the phrase used in a talk and wrote it down to remember. I didn't know that it was the title of a book on ...