Whatever He Says

In the continuing story of our week long adventure in Mish, this story of the evening after our outing to the beach on Thursday, is from Susan Stewart.  When Paul mentioned that he was disappointed that Belinda wasn’t going to be at the community center that night to take photos, I completely understood her position.  The night before, I felt just like I suspected she felt now - like I had “hit the wall”.  Everyone else had headed over to the community barbecue and the dance that followed it, but though my spirit was willing, my body told me in no uncertain terms, “there’s absolutely no way you’re going anywhere tonight where there are people”.  My muscles were aching and my brain was fried – to a crisp. I felt like I couldn’t answer one more question, make one more decision, or interact with one more person.  So I stayed back while everyone else went to the dance, knowing I was probably missing something very significant, and quite possibly even “wonder...

By Belinda I have so much to write but no time to do it. I am so busy getting as much as I can done before leaving for England on Tuesday, but God is so on the move all over the place. I want to tell the world about this and that and everything else--but it will have to wait until I get to England on Wednesday, when I hope to catch up. I'm taking a list with me so that I don't forget a thing! But...in the car coming home from church on Sunday, I told my mother in law how much people had contributed to be sent the pastor in India I wrote about recently (see sidebar and click on the link for the story.) Mum said passionately, "If only people would see how God works miraculously." We talked to Uncle John in England on Sunday afternoon on Skype, and I told him that I was bringing a blessing with me for the pastor in India  Uncle John said that he had been in touch with the him by email and this is some of what has been happening: The pastor used to...

By Belinda It was really worship practice, but it felt more like Christmas. In the capacious, black leather overnight bag that doubles as a carryall for me, I had two books from my bookshelf to give to friends on the worship team. One friend has just taken on the leadership of the worship ministry in our church, and the other has just become a worship leader, a new role for her. Passing the books on to them gave me joy. I had only partially read one, and not the other. Giving them to Cheryl and Frances, said, "I believe in you. I want to invest in your leadership. I am for you!" They received the books with smiling eyes. But there was more! Frances, too, was rummaging in her purse, and out of its depths she triumphantly pulled a book, which she presented to me. I gasped in excitement, "Wow, I have always wanted to read a book by Warren Wiersbe ." Frances pointed to the title, God Isn’t in a Hurry: Learning to Slow Down and Live , and said how she knew it fit in p...

As I shared with you last week, dear readers, in my post, Beware the Great Pumpkin, I was personally inspired by the challenge given at the leadership conference of the not-for-profit organization I work for; for each of the 250 leaders in attendance, to raise $500 for our global ministries to children with disabilities, over the next year. Susan, who was at the same conference, started talking after cell group about things that we could do to raise the money, such as putting a coffee machine in the church and donating the proceeds. After she left, I kept thinking about what I could do and one thing led to another and I ended up with 18 loaves of pumpkin nut loaf at the end of a weekend of frenzied baking. We had a meeting of our district team the following week, and I had no shame--I brought my loaves--and they sold rapidly at $5 each. My coworker Iris told me that I should not be in charge of selling them, I should be charging more, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. Susan...

The call came on Tuesday at noon, sooner than I had expected. Then again had it come later in the week, would I have been any more ready? I don't know. My bushel of pickling cucumbers had been picked and was ready for pick-up. I had already purchased the necessary quantity of sugar, vinegar, and onions earlier and had yet to make the last-minute collections of fresh sweet peppers and dill. For the last two years I had purchased large quantities of dill from Barrie Hill Farms which is conveniently located a few km north of the Harris farm. Unfortunately for me, Barrie Hill Farms was closed until Thursday, by which time I hoped my pickles would be bottled and lined up like soldiers in neat little rows. The children whooped and groaned when I announced pickling. On one hand, it meant less book work for them but on the other, they would be needed to care more for the twins and help with pickling. My eldest daughter rolled her eyes. Did she remember how short-tempered I was last year? I...

Proverbs 16:20 (New International Version) New International Version (NIV) Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society 20 Whoever gives heed to instruction prospers, and blessed is he who trusts in the LORD. I'm late this morning friends. I can only echo Bob Crachit in Charles Dicken's A Christmas Carol, and say that, "I was making rather merry yesterday sir." It was late last night as I finally sat down with my laptop on my lap, I promptly fell asleep--and woke up at 1.00 a.m. without a thought in my head to write about! Since I can't tell you "Whatever he says," unless he does, I decided to go to bed. This morning though, I know exactly what to write about so here I am, with a quick word, aided by the considerable talents of Chris Tomlin and his wonderful song, "Famous One." We sit across from eachother at breakfast each morning, Paul and I, and pray. Over breakfast, he often asks me what I am doing that day. When he incorpora...

Blood spurted from his head and Josiah was crying loudly. When Olivia yelled, "Mom, Jeremiah hit Josiah with a rock, come quick", I was at the door. "He's bleeding", she screached. I ran to the beach. His mass of curls were covered in blood and it was running down his face and onto the sand. Olivia was screaming now and so were Jeremiah and Josiah. For a split second, I wondered how clean my hands were and then it no longer mattered. I had to get the bleeding to stop. I covered the place with my hand, applying gentle pressure. There was no hope of seeing the laceration - too much hair, too much blood. I wrapped my free arm around Josiah's tummy and pressed his head to my chest, careful to maintain the gentle but steady pressure. The rock was large, probably weighing about a pound. He needed stitches, that much was clear. There was now blood all around me and the deck was covered. It was streaming down his face. I thanked God for his loud and frantic cries, ...