Whatever He Says

"Resistance  is a measure of the opposition to current flow in an electrical circuit.  Resistance  is measured in ohms, symbolized by the Greek letter omega (Ω). Ohms are named after Georg Simon Ohm (1784-1854), a German physicist who studied the relationship between voltage, current and resistance ." Fluke.com The call to face down two areas of weakness and sinful overindulgence last week struck me with the force of a bolt of lightning. For anyone who missed my previous blog post about them, it was about overbuying clothes and books. I understand if some readers are uncomfortable about labelling these things "sinful." I was too, but that's how I came to see them if I'm honest, "sins" or "addictions."  It felt like time to recognize them as such. So strong was the impression that I quickly wrote the phrase, "I Already Have Everything I need," and pinned it on my fridge. Then I posted a photo of it on Facebook, wishing a...

The wipers kept a rhythmic beat against the September rain that gathered relentlessly on my windshield. The rain didn't bother me, though-- I was grateful for the more leisurely pace of a Saturday morning as I drove down Highway 400 towards the city.  Casually I glanced over to my right, and noticed with curiosity  a silver van whose  license plate had only three letters: N-U-H.  "NUH," I thought to myself, turning the letters over in my mind, while considering their possible significance. A friend to whom I was telling this story later, guessed at, "Nothing Under Heaven;"  someone else might think they represented:    , but to me at that moment, they rhymed with  Gnu , a slope-backed type of antelope, and therefore were pronounced, "New." "New," I said to myself..."I'm new," or "I'm new here," trying out various possibilities.  It made me think of my own life, and how new I am in some ways lately--...

Jeremiah 17:7-8 The Message (MSG) 7-8 But blessed is the man who trusts me, God, the woman who sticks with God. They're like trees replanted in Eden, putting down roots near the rivers— Never a worry through the hottest of summers, never dropping a leaf, Serene and calm through droughts, bearing fresh fruit every season. By Belinda We are back from a three day conference at Geneva Park, just north of Orillia. The time away involved early mornings and late nights and hours in between soaking in information that strengthened our leadership on all sorts of levels. I have so much to process and unpack in my working, spiritual, and personal life. But that's not what I meant to write about--that was just to bring you up to date on where I've been! I led the devotions on Thursday morning and had been praying about what to share for some time. I recruited my colleague Marirose, with her guitar and beautiful voice, to join me at the end in leading a song and what I shared...

Credit for the title of this post goes to my friend Dave  who suggested it in a comment on yesterday's post. Thanks Dave! By Belinda *From each according to his ability; to each according to his need.  We live moments sometimes that seem incredibly precious; as if God distilled sweetness and purpose and infused them into seconds that stretch into minutes that unfold with special significance. Such moments spanned the pancakes on Saturday morning as we passed the butter and maple syrup and I poured another cup of rich amber coffee. It happened to be a Saturday that our two granddaughters who live downstairs were home, which is why the pancakes instead of our usual porridge. They are on the cusp of young womanhood, these girls. Tori: a spunky but sensitive, witty and bright bookworm, almost 12 years old, and Tippy: a dreamy, emotional, gifted artist with the moodiness of the ocean and an almost 13 year old, which are almost the same thing. Over br...

By Belinda Last week I wrote about my initial defeatist response to what seemed like a big task. Fortunately I woke up the next morning and remembered a truth believed, but all too rarely practised in my life: One human plus God has no limitations.   And I decided to take God at his word. This was important, because I, like everyone else, influence those around me. I think we would be surprised if we realized how much we do. Our families, co-workers; Church Body; people you might not even guess, are watching. Subconsciously the atmosphere around us can be picked up in even a short interaction. Attitude is more contagious than measles, and for those of us who lead, it is even more critical to guard. Waking up to the bigness of God and the irrelevance of my inadequacy   meant that by the time I presented the challenge of last week to my team, I was pointing them in the right direction--God-ward. I remembered the thrust of an address by Bruxy Cavey  ...

By Belinda Last Saturday I wrote a post entitled Last Day  but during the next week it seemed that over and over I heard the words, "It's a new day." Each time, the words were spoken with energy, hope and resolve. What a gift a "new day" is. We all need New Days--turning points; pivotal moments in our lives that are as unscripted as a brand new journal, fresh as newly fallen snow. I've had a few New Days and I hope for more. I spent some time today reflecting on some of mine and was going to write about them, but I think the point I want to make is that I'm grateful that they exist at all. I am thankful that we are Works in Progress and that a relationship with God is dynamic, vibrant, intimate and filled with hope. I sometimes think of the twelve men who were Jesus's first intimates, What did he see in them? What does he see in us? I can tell you.. He sees possibility. He sees what we can be when we turn in our cards; "give up:" ha...

By Belinda Readers have probably noticed that my posts have been sporadic of late. I used to schedule them at 12.01 a.m. precisely and readers could count on one waiting in the morning unless a major disaster had occurred or I couldn't get to a computer (which to me amounts to the same thing.) But there are temptations to post for the wrong reasons. Bloggers get affirmation from comments and the number of people who "follow" or read our posts and it's not so easy to unravel the motivations to write. I want to write things here that are of worth to you, the reader. The only thing I can give that is of true worth is what God says to me. He doesn't say things all the time. Sometimes he just wants me to wait for him and to be quiet. So I'm learning to wait and not feel pressured by feelings that are driven by ego; to trust God's timing. There will sometimes be humour here--or recipes; some family and friendship stories--and the story of our ongoing fai...

By Belinda (but not really) A call to a friend who has dubbed me her Sanity Committee. Her friend answered the phone and called her from another room saying that it was the Sanitary Committee on the phone. Boy did she get that wrong--although maybe not--I did wash my dishwasher filter yesterday! :) A few people call me their Sanity Committee (because I'm a type B person with all type A friends!) but I don't actually get called on very often. I'm like a big round red Fire Alarm in a glass cabinet--there for an emergency. And when someone actually wants to break the glass it is scary. I know I don't have anything but God and it's at such a moment that this becomes as clear as a freshly squeegied windshield. So I listened; hard; and then said, "Can I pray?" And as I prayed, something I'd read this week was playing around the edges of my thoughts. Where did I read it? Was it the great book I'm reading right now, Leading from the Second Chair ? I...

By Belinda I leave for England on Monday, and have only two days left at work before being away for two weeks. I am staving off low level panic at the coming boundary over which there can be no leaping! At the same time I have an opportunity to choose to be panicked or not, even though it might take some talking to myself to accomplish. This makes me think of a thought provoking post at my friend Marilyn's blog, As Good a Day as Any. You can click here to read it. It was entitled "If," and challenge us to ask ourselves the question "What if...?" Marilyn's post, and several other good ones in the blogosphere, was based on a blog post by Donald Miller, The single Most Powerful Question You Can Ask So, I'm asking myself 5 What If questions as I prepare to leave after this weekend: What if I figured out the most important things that are possible to do by Friday evening? What if I didn't worry about the myriad of things that cannot get don...

By Belinda God knows when we come home battle weary, as I did tonight. Oh, I'm more than all right, don't worry, but it was a long day and a sore spot was touched, and I reacted in defensiveness, then self promotion, and then disappointment--at myself. I was tired and not at all in the mood for writing anything.  And then I read this on one of my favourite blogs, As Good a Day as Any, a great post: Fighting Bullies ;Marilyn declaring that she will not be bullied by her blog! And she included a link to a blog that is new to me: The Moonboat Cafe and a great post Obscurity Can Be An Asset "My blog is not my life. Twitter is not my life. Facebook is only a photo album. These are products of my life, like all my writing. But they are not my life." - Cassandra Frear I heartily commend both of these posts to you. They are far better than anything I can write tonight, and they will feed your soul with good food. And yeay! It is Saturday! Happy weekend every one....

I love people and never get tired of sitting across from someone, looking into their eyes and listening to what they have to say. What I just wrote sounds as though I am a good listener, but all too often I am whirling around faster than--than a washer on the spin cycle! Anyone with a smidgen of interpersonal radar would not find that inviting. But, thank goodness that in spite of "me," I sometimes do see the one in front of me and just enjoy "what God has made" in that other person. And what he makes is delightful. The snippets of wisdom I glean from conversations, I take away to ponder later. Today someone told me that he had coached a girl's basketball team to win two championships. I had such fun listening to his coaching stories. His eyes sparkled as the stories came with laughter in his deep voice. Of the training, some girls would say, “I’m tired, I’m not doing it.” He would smile and say, “I know. Still, RUN.” He said they would complain as they ran, but...

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 ...

Raindrops Snowflakes Grains of sand ...small things all, but mighty when joined, one to another. And so it is with our secret battles, one way or another. We are either taking small steps in one direction or the other, and sometimes both directions in one day. Amy Carmichael writes in the October 10 reading in Edges of His Ways ... step by step; by little acts of will, little denials of self, little inward victories; by faithfulness in very little things they became what they are....There is no sudden triumph, no spiritual maturity that is the work of a moment. So let us all take courage... Many rain drops form a torrent; tiny feathery snowflakes can bring a busy city to a grinding halt, and vast deserts are made of many tiny, grains of sand. There is power in small things when added together. I want to learn to live in minute sized compartments. I can do almost anything for a minute: Yield my will to God for a minute; draw on his strength for a minute; pray for a minute. Each day is a...

Isaiah 44:20 (New International Version) 20 He feeds on ashes, a deluded heart misleads him; he cannot save himself, or say, "Is not this thing in my right hand a lie?" It is the last day of the last long weekend of summer. I sit in a spot shaded from the bright sun, a small deck on the north side of our house. This is a quiet place to read, escaping the drone of the vacuum inside, where Brenda is busy cleaning. Out here the wind whispers through a nearby bushy maple tree and the are crickets chirping their rhythmic song. It almost feels as though summer will last forever. Paul adds to the sound-symphony with the drone of the garden tractor, interspersed with the hum of the whipper-snipper. But the season is changing. School is starting and there is energy, a certain nervous tension, and anticipation in the air. My reading today is from the book of Isaiah, a passage (chapter 44) that contrasts the LIVING GOD, with the things that men make and give their lives to. Craftsmen in...

Heavy dew blankets the grass, glistens in the sun. Water pools on deck-boards waiting for sun's warmth to burn off wet. It's the end of summer, Labour Day Week-end and morning dawns, cool. Green grapes are blueing, ripening on the vine. A gentle reminder that the lazy days of summer are gone. Autumn beckons. Children's laughter echoes across the water and they frolick, enjoying this last week-end before school doors open once again. New beginnings pregnant with potential and possibility dawn on this September morn. God calls. He speaks. "For I am the Lord your God, who stirs up the sea and its waves roar (the Lord of hosts is His name). And I have put My words in your mouth, and have covered you with the shadow of My hand, to establish the heavens, to found the earth, and to say to Zion, 'You are My people!'" Isaiah 51:15-16 NASV We are His. He lives in us. We have good news and His love to share. "How lovely on the mountains Are the feet of him who b...

Proverbs 2:6-11 (New International Version) 6 For the LORD gives wisdom, and from his mouth come knowledge and understanding. 7 He holds victory in store for the upright, he is a shield to those whose walk is blameless, 8 for he guards the course of the just and protects the way of his faithful ones. 9 Then you will understand what is right and just and fair—every good path. 10 For wisdom will enter your heart, and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul. 11 Discretion will protect you, and understanding will guard you. I closed my eyes to listen with full concentration. The music finding its way from my laptop, through the wires and into the ear buds in my ears, was so beautiful that it took me to a place in my imagination; a room in heaven. The Room of Days is what I named it in my thoughts. I saw a room in which all of our days, just like photos in an album, could be looked at; the choices we made in them seen by the ones whose days they were; many choices, made in split seconds. Fo...

I was at Becca's soccer game the other night. It was a little oasis for me, Daddy home with the boys and me on the bench alone, watching...and to my surprise listening. "You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You; because he trusts in You"(Is 26:3 NKJV). Is that You Lord? The voice was quiet, but a firm prompt to listen. Then the prompt took shape as I watched the game. The children were running hither and yon, kicking the ball like mad, dashing to the next position and then the ball came at them again. The field seemed full of shots, in every direction, as two games were played at separate ends. It could be overwhelming to the onlooker, or the player, if you weren't prepared. It felt like my life...tested, tempted, attacked from every angle, like the enemy was using me for target practice. Yet in this quiet place on the bench, I heard His voice again, "Do you trust Me?" Yes Jesus. "I will lift up mine eyes to the hills from...

The words silenced all thoughts. My heart leaped for joy. I wept. A knowing began to wash over my soul...a sunrise, after night...brightness after murky dark...the freedom of truth...again God's grace. I first read these powerful words from I Kings 19:11-12 on a friend's blog on Thursday afternoon...God's revelation to the prophet Elijah on Mount Horeb (Sinai): Then He (the Lord) said, "Go out, and stand on the mountain before the Lord." And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice. I Kings 19:11-12 NKJV Interesting that God speaks...after the wind...the earthquake...the fire...in a still small voice. God chose to speak to Elijah in the proverbial, "calm after the ...

Psalm 25:4-5 (New Living Translation) 4 Show me the right path, O Lord; point out the road for me to follow. 5 Lead me by your truth and teach me, for you are the God who saves me. All day long I put my hope in you. It was so still in the house as I padded around the kitchen in the early morning. How I love being up first. I've always relished the solitude; even as a child I loved to get up before everyone else. I glanced out of the window, drawn, as usual, to the sky and fields and hills, and saw a low layer of clouds moving across the sky, from the south-west to the north-east, in stately procession. They reminded me of a slow moving camel train heaped with packages of spices, silks and Persian carpets, bound for some distant city. It was beautiful; peaceful, in the morning light. Their passage seemed so purposeful and unhurried. The line they traveled across the sky was straight, driven by a powerful, invisible wind current. I prayed for my day to be as purposeful as the clouds ...

Proverbs 8:34 (New International Version) 3 4 Blessed is the man who listens to me, watching daily at my doors, waiting at my doorway. From the quiet, peace and gentle rain of an English village last week--into a first week back at work, filled so far with intensity, crisis, pressure and conflict. While on vacation in England I made some of my friends laugh when I took the time to reflect on my normally very busy life. I had tried to organize it better by charting it on an Excel spreadsheet with blocks of colours that signalled boundaries and categories. It looked so possible--if I tried hard not to waste time, dally too much, or get distracted. The truth is that the colours bled and life throws more wild cards than I could catch even if I was an octopus. Perhaps there was a missing colour on my chart--bright, shocking pink for the wild cards. So I look to God. To whom else should I go? He is my source of strength--my only hope. I give him my life, my weak frame with all...