Whatever He Says

By Belinda A conversation with some friends on the issue of pro choice versus pro life, left me thinking. A couple of friends surprised me with their point of view. One friend said he thought that if a woman was the victim of a brutal rape, she should have the choice to end the pregnancy. He said he was pro choice--"God gives us freedom of choice," he said. "Freedom of choice to kill?" I asked. The group of us, all believers, talked it through long and hard; me, still surprised that it would even be a question. But I wondered later if I was being hypocritical.  Would I compromise if the issue was closer to home--not so hypothetical? Would I be tempted by the ability to erase the result of an unthinkable assault if a grandchild was the victim? It's easy to be so sure when it isn't you in the situation. In the next room Paul was discussing the same question with another group of friends and afterwards he said, when I shared our discussion, "We...

By Belinda The sign said, "Book Sale $1.00 Each." I had left home to run a few errands and one of them was a stop at the library to return some audio books. The sign drew me from my purpose like an ice cream parlour on a hot day. If I never buy another book as long as I live I will not run out of reading material, but I couldn't pass by without looking. As I picked up a book to leaf through, a man on the opposite side of the table said, "These are mine." He patted a pile of 8 or 10 books that he had collected to establish that they were taken. I smiled and said that I wouldn't touch them. "Isn't this great though?" I said, "What a good opportunity." He said, "Yes, I'm retired since March, with lots of time to read. I used to work--too much." And he laughed as if I might know what he meant by that. His voice was cultured, with a hint of the Caribbean; warm and charming. He wore a knitted Nordic style hat and a thi...

By Belinda Going back in time a lttle (I have so much to catch up on gradually;) on Tuesday evening I flew to England to spend a few days with Mum, but not before spending most of the day at a Staff Day Apart at work. I drove to nearby Bradford early that morning, to pick up someone who needed a ride to Jackson's point, about 45 minutes away, where 50 of us would  spend the day together in worship, having fun and a 3 hour training on Soul Care for the Caregiver. On the way I told my passenger about the Nick, the 11 year old boy with Stevens Johnson Syndrome, for whom we've been praying. I told him the wonderful news that Nick's skin is already beginning to grow back. That's when he told me a story I knew I had to share here: A few years ago his mother called him about a man who was depressed due to family circumstances. Distraught, the man decided to end his life and went to the basement and where he planned to drink...

By Belinda The headline in The Toronto Star reads, Officer Dead After Shooting. 37 year old Constable Vu Pham, a 15 year veteran of the Ontario Provincial Police, died Monday afternoon, with his wife Heather, and three young sons by his side. I was meeting with a colleague in my office Monday afternoon afternoon when my desk phone rang. I turned the ringer off, intent on focusing on the person I was with. My cell phone rang too and I ignored it; I could check for a message in a few moments, I thought. When the person left, I checked my computer and there was a two word email from my boss. "Call me," it said. I called--and that's when I heard that Vu had been shot in the head by a man whose car he had flagged down. Vu is the adopted brother of Mike, one of our team of area managers, but 22 years ago, they were both just teenagers in the church we attend, Hillside Community Church, in Tottenham, and part of the youth group our kids were in and which we led. Constable Vu Ph...

Psalm 55:22-23 (New International Version) 22 Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; ... 23...But as for me, I trust in you They were outside for hours, enjoying a sunny Saturday morning in the snow; three playmates; two girls and one dog. They were having the kind of simple fun that was a delight for this grandmother to observe from afar. A frozen top layer had formed over the snow--a legacy of the bad storms of the previous two days. This was jumped upon until a hole was made. Then the girls began digging. There is something indescribably fascinating about a hole; and the deeper the better. Molson thought so too. He didn't hesitate to poke his head and shoulders deep into the hole to explore, and sniff the scent of earth, leaving only his big golden retriever hind parts above the ground. Later, I looked at the photos I'd shot quickly from the upper window. In one of them, during a few resting moments, Victoria had laid her head against Molson's furry body. ...

Psalm 150:3-6 (New International Version) 3 Praise him with the sounding of the trumpet, praise him with the harp and lyre, 4 praise him with tambourine and dancing, praise him with the strings and flute, 5 praise him with the clash of cymbals, praise him with resounding cymbals. 6 Let everything that has breath praise the LORD. Praise the LORD. Tonight was Tiffany-Amber and Victoria's piano recital and I was there to hear them play. Being ten minutes early at Hope Methodist Church tonight, the girls I was there to hear had not yet arrived, so I quietly slipped into the church sanctuary to listen to four sets of other children playing the duet, Babbling Bears, which I have been listening to the girls practicing for weeks downstairs. The atmosphere was very, very serious and the church was hushed. No one said a word, unless in very soft whispers, as each set of children approached the piano, and, depending on their personality, hammed it up a litt...

Whenever I am driving between the hours of 9:00 p.m. and 11:00 p.m.,I have always enjoyed the program, "Candlelight and Wine" on weeknights on 98.1 FM. Although I seldom listen to it now, I had the privilege Friday evening, while driving home from Barrie after a Christmas shopping marathon. I relaxed as the easy-listening music softly filled the suburban and the glistening snow sparkled from the streetlights. Soon, Don Jackson's deep, soothing voice began sharing a story. Expectant now, I turned up the volume. I knew I was in for a treat -this is the part of the program that has always resonated so deeply with me. Don Jackson talked about a professor of philosophy who was demonstrating a life-principle to his class. The Professor carefully filled a large glass jar with rocks. When he could get no more rocks in the jar, he asked the class if it was full. They responded "yes". He said, "Not so", as he reached down under his lectern and then procee...

Matthew 13:45-46 (New Living Translation) 45 “Again, the Kingdom of Heaven is like a merchant on the lookout for choice pearls. 46 When he discovered a pearl of great value, he sold everything he owned and bought it. Victoria and Tiffany-Amber worked side by side with their grandfather in the garden as he toiled on hands and knees, in the hot sun. He was painstakingly weeding--and they worked away with garden rake and trowel, busy and serious about removing the vestiges of fall and winter. Bringing beauty to this acre of land on which our house has stood for almost nineteen years, is a labour of love for Paul. Every year he finds a reason to plant a few more trees, extend the flower beds, or create another space in which to sit and enjoy nature. As I pulled out of the driveway in my car to go shopping they hardly noticed me leaving, but I carried the picture of the threesome in the garden in my heart. Our home has been such a place of happiness over the years. It has sheltered three ge...

1 Corinthians 13:11-13 (New Living Translation) 11 When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. 12 Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely. 13 Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love. I remember that awkward, painful, anguished time--adolescence. As flawed and fallible as my father was, I am sorry for the beating he took from me during those "growing up" years. During my childhood he was the one who held a magic stick that would drag him to points on the living room floor like a branch in the hand of a water diviner. Sure enough, under the carpet, where the stick pointed, Robert my younger brother, and I, would find pennies mysteriously hidden. He also kept us spell-boun...

(Faith Girl’s Post of Tuesday, Tears from a Child, prompted me to share this) The span of years between us wasn’t great—a mere ten years--but 14 seemed a lifetime away from 24, which is how old I was when I found myself teaching a class of 11 to 14 year old girls. I can’t remember how I came to be their teacher. Probably a teacher was needed and I volunteered, willing to be used, even though teaching was way out of my comfort zone and not my area of gifting at all. God made up for my lack of teaching ability by giving me a love for those girls though. If I close my eyes I can see their faces now. It felt like a great privilege to have an opportunity to make a difference at an age that was so vulnerable—a time of transition from girlhood to womanhood. Over the years that followed, one girl stayed in touch faithfully . She hadn’t fit the mould of the typical, pretty teenaged girl. Tall, large boned and awkward and a little rough around the edges—a bit of a misfit—the kind of kid I've...

A couple of weeks ago I came home from work to find my husband in a state of urgent excitement. It seemed that our seven year old granddaughter Victoria's class was going to be studying Nunavut and the North West Territories. You have to know three things about Paul. He loves travel and has been to the North West Territories, he loves his grandchildren even more than he loves to travel--and when he's on a mission--he's on a mission. So when I found him on a hunt for the photos and video he'd taken, of the Arctic ocean, pingoes and aboriginal dancers, even if it meant turning our upstairs closet inside out on a night when people were coming for dinner and cell group--I knew my priorities--and dinner came second! No child ever was prepared with more "stuff." Paul insisted on referring to Victoria's "presentation," no matter how many times our daughter Brenda, told him, "Dad, it's not a presentation." He quizzed her on how pingoes were...