Whatever He Says

By Belinda Yesterday, reading my friend Dave's blog post:  Too Late, Too Little, Too Much  I found myself, as I often do, on my daily read at  Rolling Around in My Head , with way too much to think about! I mean really, a blog post is a short thing; a thing to be read quickly; to be responded to with an equally quick comment. Only I couldn't be quick! I should know better visiting RAIMH! :) No fair Dave; starting your post and my morning with such weighty questions; questions that demand thought--and an answer. You asked: Can an apology be too late? Can an apology ask too much?  Questions like that deserve an answer and a very interesting discussion followed and is still going on in the comment section with so many thoughtful opinions on the subject. I tried to join in but gave up. The question needed more than a "comment" from this quarter. So here I am, trying to put into words more coherently what think on the subject, with no promises that I will succe...

By Belinda I'm starting the week with gratitude for "forgiveness." I'm grateful above all for God's forgiveness-- past and ongoing--that is a gift beyond comprehension. But right now I'm thinking of person to person forgiveness. On Friday morning I woke up "out of sync." I should have been confined to the bedroom and not let out until after sunset because overnight my hands and feet seem to have sprouted hair and long nails and my eyes glowed an eerie red. Well, if the state of people's hearts were visible on the outside, that would have been my appearance--The Creature from the Blue Lagoon--on steroids! At least people would have had fair warning and stayed clear. I was not fit for conversation and should have had my mouth firmly zippered shut. But...I ventured from the bedroom, and into the unsuspecting world with mouth fully engaged and in gear. The universe must have shuddered and whispered, "Here she comes. Batten down the hatch...

By Belinda The Honourable Chuck Strahl, Minister of Indian Affairs and Northern Development Canada; representing Prime Minister Stephen Harper; along with Chief Kenny Blacksmith, received the highest honour that can be given by the Aboriginal people, in a sacred ceremony in which they were both presented with the headdress of a chief on Saturday. Minister Strahl was then presented with gifts of colourful robes, blankets, and carvings in wood and stone; the finest handiwork of the Aboriginal people of Canada. John 13:4-7 (New International Version) 4 so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. 5After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him. 6He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, "Lord, are you going to wash my feet?" 7Jesus replied, "You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand." I hav...

I can't forgive him!  You know I can't!  It's not humanly possible. But Lord, because I call you "Lord" and because you say I must...  I lay down my arms today.  Not that I ever had a right to carry them... I know that full well, when I think of all that you have forgiven me.  But Lord, only you know how much hurt was caused.  Only you know how much damage has been done. If there was something I could do - something you had given me to do, I would do it, Lord. I would confront him if you let me!  It's all so clear to me. Why can't he see it?  He thinks I am the crazy one - that I am the one who lacks understanding!  How can he possibly think that he could be so right when his attitude is so far from your heart of love.  So far...  I forgive that person, Lord - just as you have forgiven me.  I grit my teeth and forgive him.  And I remember. I remember ju...

By Belinda How deafening is the silence of a confession unacknowledged or received. It would be comforting to feel forgiven; understood--or maybe even just one among many failed humans. But I am forgiven--by him ; understood and accepted. Do I need more than that? More than a love that is unending and unconditional? More than boundless grace? Is mine a humility that cries out for recognition? Dear Lord, forgive me for selfish motives, even in repentance! Your love, your forgiveness...it is enough. More than enough!

I am in Kotsy's, a local diner, waiting for a friend I'm meeting for breakfast. I think she's forgotten, or maybe I got the days mixed up. I am enjoying being out and about earlier than usual, and the early morning sunshine streaming through the window. Having some extra thinking time is not such a bad thing either. I figure she's not coming so I order a modest toasted bagel with cream cheese instead of the artery busting Early Bird Special I would have ordered if not alone, wondering why it should make a difference. I conclude that I must be a social eater. I think about yesterday morning's CBC radio program, Fresh Air, that included an interview with the curator of the Kingston Penitentiary Museum. Among other interesting facts, he said that in the 19th century, the prisoners were ordered to observe a rule of silence. There was to be no conversing at all with other prisoners, and with the guards they were to use as few words as possible. The idea was to give the p...

Warm water pools on floor with suds. I scrub hard at this week's dirt and grime. Enjoying the solitude and quiet, I thank God for servant-hearted husband who takes high-spirited children to Grandma's and Grandpa's house for the afternoon. I think a while on the fun they'll have, collecting apples, picking raspberries, father and son shooting their arrows and drawing bows. Grandma's peaceful kitchen where tasty snacks and treats are served to wide-eyed grandchildren. In my mind's eye, I feast on sugar maples with garments of orange, red, and yellow. I think of still water at pond's edge and hope there'll still be a duck or two. I know they'll have fun and come back exuberant, with adventures to tell. Soon I will hear their laughter, animated voices, and the calling of my name, "Mommy....and the stories unfold. I look forward to their arrival. I take scraper to hardened dribble of pancake batter and smile as I remember the cook. Enthusiastic dau...

The headlines this week read, “Bert Tatham will be home for Christmas.” The young man from Collingwood, Ontario, had been held in prison in the United Arab Emirates and had served 9 months of a 4 year sentence on drug charges. Suddenly, this week, he was granted amnesty at the order of the ruler of Dubai, in honour of the high Islamic holiday of Eid. This started me thinking; what if we searched our hearts every year before Christmas for someone to whom we could give the gift of forgiveness? Of course I know we’re supposed to do this all the time, but sometimes there is a “lurker” in our hearts; someone whose particular nastiness seems to warrant absolution from the rule. This happened to me a while ago. I would think that I had forgiven, but not really, because I would see the person and all of the emotions would bob to the surface like a cork swimming float. I was finally helped by a passage not usually applied to the topic of forgiveness. It was through Matthew 25: 37-40 that I saw...