Whatever He Says

It was midsummer when I drove for miles down roads that wound up hills and down, to buy some apples for my small pie business. As I was leaving, the woman behind the counter of the rural country market told me that they were the end of the line   and there would be no more until the new crop came in. The three large boxes I managed to get represented quite a few pies, but one by one they all found a home before the new crop was available from my supplier. When my freezer was finally empty, I went to my local No Frills, which is a little more expensive, but I looked for the apples in bags labelled, "Naturally Imperfect." These apples lack conformity in size or shape--they aren't quite "perfect," but are perfectly delicious in the pies. Recently as I was thinking about a fault that was obvious in an acquaintance, I thought of the "naturally imperfect" label, and how appropriately it could be applied to humans. In that moment, instead of persist...

By Belinda Susan left a cryptic comment on the last blog post, referring to being a "bunny eater," and Dave confessed to confusion (I don't know why! :)) This is to explain...   Really, the rabbits of the world are quite safe around here, for the kind of bunny Susan referred to did not come with fur.  It was at cell group a few years ago, shortly after Easter, that my friend Frances; mother of three of our God-children, confessed to a dastardly deed. I had bought all three children a gold foil wrapped, Lindt chocolate bunny for  Easter. Frances said that when Summer-Lily searched for hers and couldn't find it, she had to own up. I let out a gasp with a disbelieving, "Oh...Frances--you didn't!"  She ate her child's Easter egg! "Bad, bad, Frances," must have come across loud and clear. And the conversation went on to other things.  But, as it did, I had another conversation going on in my head and heart, as you might imagine. ...

By Belinda Our conversation was personal and filled with laughter. I told a story that concerned me, and before the three of us parted, I said, laughing, "What was said in this car, stays in the car!" One of my friends asked directly, "Why? You aren't worried I might say something are you?" I said, "Yes!" a little nervously, thinking back to times when things had slipped out. We talked more about it later that day, laughing about our earlier conversation, and I said that I hoped she wasn't offended by my quick "Yes." She wasn't, she said. She  understood that I was just making sure... The next day I told my story to another friend, adding to it the exchange with my first two friends. We laughed as much as I had with my friends in the car. I didn't give a thought to sharing a story that was my own, after all. When I told one of my first friends of my second conversation, she said, "I hope you didn't share......

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!

Lest any of my worship team mates read this post and get worried; it is from the archives--February 9th, last year! It just happens that I was at worship practice this evening (Wednesday,) and Frances told me with eyes aglow, of her recent performance appraisal in which her boss told her, "You are irreplaceable!" What a wonderful message to be given, almost a year after I got the same message--just when I needed it. I'm working on a special two part blog post detailing the recent events in Haiti as told to me by one of our church members who was there, so I hope you'll forgive a dip into the archives--and enjoy. By Belinda I stepped out into the cool crispness of a Canadian winter afternoon, my cheeks growing rosy in the deliciously wood-smoke scented fresh air. Beside me trotted my faithful furry friend, Molson, his paws crunch-crunching as he trotted along, as happy as a child let out of school early. So many new scents to sniff--where to start? It was all too overw...

Once upon a time there was a young-ish woman who thought that she had the answers to most situations. In fact, the answers were readily available at the tip of her fingers, if not her tongue. Whenever people shared their worries and burdens with her, she could hardly wait for them to finish talking so that she could give them the answer that was obvious to her. In fact, once she thought of the answer, her eyes stopped focusing on theirs and she was only half aware of what they were saying until they were finished. She noticed that sometimes the people to whom she gave the answers seemed resistant to receiving them. As she grew older, a strange thing began to happen. She discovered that there were layers of complexity in people's lives and in her own responses to them. Answers seemed less readily available as she encountered this messiness. Sometimes she was in need of answers too and the answers she once found easy to access for others seemed trite. Fortunately, the woman, answer-l...

Dear readers: Turn back the calendar to December of 1967. It was England at the height of the Swinging Sixties, a heady and exciting time to be young and I was 17. The previous December Paul had asked me out and I had said no, because I was dating someone else at the time. By April I had ended that short lived romance and besides, I had fallen in love with Paul, but that didn't stop me going out with someone else when he didn't fill the void fast enough. I was as fickle as the English weather. My journals keep me humble because they shatter any idealized recollectiions! In comparison my own children seemed so much more mature in their youth. It is evident that my life was as busy then as it would continue to be. Trying to change that goes against my natural bent but I am glad that some other things did change. This is my journal entry for the day that Paul and I finally did get together once and for all: December 23rd, 1967. Oh, what a mixed day! Got up, had a bath and went to...

I stepped out into the cool crispness of a Canadian winter afternoon, my cheeks growing rosy in the deliciously wood-smoke scented fresh air. Beside me trotted my faithful furry friend, Molson, his paws crunch-crunching as he trotted along, as happy as a child let out of school early. So many new scents to sniff--where to start? It was all too overwhelming. As we began our homeward jaunt, behind us in the west, the sky seemed to be awash with a river of pink molten lava, rippled in lavender. The pavement reflected back the pink light, stretching out behind us and pointing like an icy finger in the direction of the sky. Before us, like a luminous lantern guiding us home, hung a moon in the dusky twilight sky, as creamy white as a bowl of vanilla ice cream. It felt like a wonderful start to a new week after several very busy ones with some temporarily long hours put in to meet deadlines. Last week, at my peak of pressure, late on Wednesday, I came home frazzled and testy. It was worship ...

By Claire Alexander In a writers’ group online, one author told how her pastor’s mention of an Old Testament passage triggered the idea, “the right word for the right occasion.” She decided to add this phrase to her biographical details as her “tag line,” but didn’t know its source. Someone suggested Proverbs 25:11 NIV: "A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver." Another verse given was Eph. 4:29 NIV: "Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen." My mind went back to childhood years in West Vancouver, following WWII. A very precise and disciplined British surgeon, who founded a ministry in Aden and countries around the Red Sea, sometimes stayed in our home for a week. This tall statesman had to sleep on my brother’s bed, the width of a cot. On each furlough trip to Canada, this pioneering doctor tried to raise u...

Playing for Change: Song Around the World “Stand by Me” I found this version of Stand by Me on Raspberry Rabbit last week and have wanted to share it ever since, if only for an excuse to listen to it again. I absolutely love it for its brilliant musicianship. Stand by Me, is one of my favourite songs, and it speaks to what I wrote about yesterday: We all need someone to stand with us, to be "for" us at some time or another. Lean on Me, another of my favourite songs has a similar them. "Standing with," somebody takes courage. Often it involves some risk. It might be inconvenient and involve sacrifice. It might take us out of our comfort zone. I look around at my friends and count myself very blessed. All of them are the kind of people who would stand with someone and have the courage to go against the flow. It is one of the things that I love about them and I include my dear Paul in that group. I don't think there is a conformist in the crowd. They are a passi...

I stowed my luggage in the overhead baggage compartment and sank into my window seat on the aircraft. The friendly man who sat next to me introduced himself, as did the woman beside him, but I was glad that they were soon in conversation with eachother. I had lots to think about on my way home from England. We were soon airborne and flying at a lower altitude than normal to avoid turbulence. I looked at the land far below; at rivers, lakes and a patchwork of fields and communities, as the aircraft slowly moved across them like a giant bird. How peaceful and quiet the world looked from that angle! The week I left for England I had been thinking about the ongoing work of God in our hearts; how he softens and shapes us, sometimes painfully, but always lovingly. My friend Susan gave me a book to read on my journey to England called, A Treasury of Great Moral Stories~ The Book of Virtues for Boys and Girls , edited with commentary by William J. Bennett. It might seem like an odd choice for ...

Physics was my worst subject in high school. I used to feel as if my teacher, Mr. Johnson, was speaking a mostly unintelligible language with words like fulcrum, friction and velocity. I only remember a few random things from those brain wrenching hours. So who could imagine, over 40 years later, that something useful would come out of my dim recollection of Mr. Johnson's class? But that is exactly what happened recently when I thought of displacement; that is, measuring the volume or weight of liquid displaced by an object submerged or floating in it. John 15 is a passage I have read countless times but I think that I never really understood it until now, with the help of my elemental knowledge of physics. John 15:5 (New Century Version) 5 "I am the vine, and you are the branches. If any remain in me and I remain in them, they produce much fruit. But without me they can do nothing. I suddenly saw the connection between the fruit Jesus referred to in John 15:5 and the fruit o...

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...

Hebrews 13:12-13 (Amplified Bible) Amplified Bible (AMP) Copyright © 1954, 1958, 1962, 1964, 1965, 1987 by The Lockman Foundation 12Therefore Jesus also suffered and died outside the [city's] gate in order that He might purify and consecrate the people through [the shedding of] His own blood and set them apart as holy [for God]. 13 Let us then go forth [from all that would prevent us] to Him outside the camp [at Calvary], bearing the contempt and abuse and shame with Him. Here is a little song that I wrote thirty years ago, based on these verses. I pray that it blesses someone today and encourages them not to be ashamed of bearing the name of Christ. I ask for courage Lord, That I might dare to go Outside the city walls with thee, And despised for thy sake be. My weakness well you know, I fear what men might say, Please teach me how to bear your shame, And be worthy of your Name. Dear Lord you went for me, Outside those walls so long ago, My shame you suffered there for love,...

One of the books I’m currently reading is Donald Miller’s, Searching for God Knows What. Donald Miller gives the reader much to reflect upon, going straight to the heart with honesty and intelligence while writing in a deceptively simple but beautiful style. I, like much of the human race, tend to be self referential in conversation and relationship but Donald Miller put this into words when he wrote of how rare a thing it is for someone to lose themselves in the presence of other human beings. Further on in the same chapter, talking again about relationship, he mentioned how we will close ourselves off at the least sign of danger. Again, I put up my hand. I don’t like it, but I admit; too often “It’s all about me.” Recently something I had offered was not received as I expected. It would cost me something, but I thought that the person had need of what I offered; me; a gift of time. The person’s apparently diffident response, elicited an emotional response. The need seemed to b...

1 Samuel 2:3 (New International Version) 3 " Do not keep talking so proudly or let your mouth speak such arrogance, for the LORD is a God who knows, and by him deeds are weighed. I need no other word to maintain a position of humility than this, "The Lord is a God who knows." How easy it is to look at people who are struggling--or not--with obvious sin and think of them as different to me. How like the Pharisee, in the story told in Luke 18:10-14, whom I imagine pulling his robes tightly around himself, as he thanked God that he was not like other men--robbers, evildoers, adulterers, or the tax collector praying with him in the temple. But when I think about the Lord, who is "a God who knows," I am undone. Suddenly I am the tax collector, who would not even raise his eyes to heaven. And I say with him, "God be merciful to me, a sinner." Lord, forgive me for forgetting sometimes who I am. Thank you for reminding me today that you know. Make my heart as...