We will give this another go, second Saturday in February. I will email those who are following the blog. If you have followed the blog through wordpress and want to be included in the email list please email me at roberta.davis@silverwords.ca. I can’t retrieve contact information for you if you are following through a wordpress account. If you email me I’ll manually add you to my list.
When my children were little, I would plan outings for them. Usually something simple. I’d think of what they would enjoy and then I’d plan a day that allowed for them to have fun. I’d think of where to go, who we’d go with, and what we would do. I’d pack up all the necessities and make sure they had everything they needed. They just needed to show up.
Most times it went well. My kids are easy to please. They are normally flexible and easy to engage. But every now and again it would go sideways. Someone, it could be anyone (even occasionally mommy) would be obstreperous. For some reason, a child would be sulky, refuse to engage, be too frightened or just plain difficult.
As a parent, you can sit back and look at the opportunity that they are missing. You can see their attitude derailing their fun. It was hard not to be angry. But they, for whatever reason could not see it. There was an obstacle in their way, and they could only see the negative. Sometimes it was imaginary troubles, sometimes it was real. Like a kid getting their shoes wet at the start of a hike and then complaining the whole way. Or someone would get hurt and feel sorry for their little selves.
I realize that I can be like this too.
Earlier this year we had a plan. A plan that would be good for our family. A plan that would help me feel like we were moving on from this whole stroke business. But that plan didn’t happen. It isn’t that it had a bad result or just didn’t work the way I wanted. No, it was just dead. Nothing!
We scrambled to find a new plan. I was furious with God. Really mad! I had managed EVERYTHING that life had thrown at me. I had proceeded one step at a time. I had stepped forward toward the goal line, slowly believing God would meet us in our mess. He didn’t.
It was by far the angriest I’ve ever been in my life. I’m sure God was frustrated with me too. I wasn’t easy to love at that point.
Now as I look back, with a bit of a different viewpoint. Watching all the chaos in the world around us. Now aware that God had a different way of providing for us. He did provide – in unexpected ways.
It is starting to look like he had our best interest in mind from the beginning. I could be wrong as the road ahead is still obscured. But… I can see more positives now than I could in the summer.
Today I went where all admitted questioners of God should go – to Job. After pages of questioning, crying, bad advice and council from man, God finally speaks to Job.
Job 38: 1-3 Then the Lord answered Job out of the storm. He said: “Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge? Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me. Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundations? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know!”
Holy Thundering Clouds! That would have been scary. God is talking to Job like a parent talks to a child who can’t see the whole picture, or a teenager caught sneaking in late at night. He is bigger. He created it all. He is I AM!
I need to remember that! I need to remember in whom I put my trust.
The other day I was reading in Luke. Two verses caught my attention and got my mind whirling.
Luke 5: 31-32 Jesus answered them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”
It’s us! We are sinners. We are the sick.
He came for us. Do we act like he came for us?
I don’t always live this way. I expect blessings and positive things because I’ve made good choices, because I’m a good Christian. I catch myself feeling angry when things don’t go my way as I have been a good servant and I deserve to be compensated.
Maybe you don’t feel this way. Which is excellent. But if I’m truly being honest, I do. I think it’s a natural reaction. But just because its natural doesn’t mean its right.
The truth is I’m a sinner. I don’t deserve anything from God. And yet he gives it freely to me. I’m no better than the lowest murderer in prison, even though the world would tell me I am. Regardless of what the wisdom of man says, I’m not better. I’m ever bit as human. I am a sinner.
Humility is the position in which I should approach God. Head down afraid to look up, should be my posture.
Why did Christ say this? He was asked why he was hanging out with lowly people like tax collectors. The people asking him this obviously thought that there was a hierarchy of people. Some people are better than others. Some people are worth Jesus’ time, some are not.
Do I do this? Do I decide that I am better than other people? Because I’ve made better choices, I’ve lived a better life, or I have better opinions and ideas? OUCH! Maybe I need a bit more humility on this front too.
Deciding to humble myself before the creator is understandable. That I get. Humbling myself among my equals… takes more convincing.
But maybe humility is the key to peace and understanding. What if we approach people as though they are of equal value? What would happen to our world? I posit that this would be revolutionary. Much of our conflict and strife would disappear.
Wait a minute… Love God, Love your neighbour! Could it be that simple?
The last few days on my social media feed I’ve been seeing lots of the Bell Let’s Talk campaign. Everyone is showing concern about mental health. Friends are posting kind thoughts and reposting articles. It’s a good thing. It is always good to draw attention to our mental health.
Mental health is a tricky thing. We are strange coping creatures. We can go and go and go and then just crack. Or we can be tough as nails when we need to be and then fall apart when the crisis is over. We can struggle with relationships and with situations. Lumping all these things under the umbrella of ‘mental health’ is some how inadequate.
I’ve been thinking of a friend of mine over the last few days. We weren’t close, we didn’t see each other often, but we were long term friends. One morning, completely out of the blue, a close friend called to say he was dead, that he shot himself in the night.
I have thought of him often over the last couple years. My heart aches for his pain but my mind can’t quite take it in, even now. I have no answers, no platitudes. When I think of it I am just overwhelmed with sadness. I’m not naïve enough to think I could have prevented it, we weren’t that close. I am not the person he would have called if he could have called someone.
What I can do is think of him as I interact with others. I can be kind. I can try to be empathetic, particularly to those closest to me. While I appreciate the kind words on Facebook, lets never think that is a substitute for calling, watching our loved ones, or doing what we can in person. We need people. We need human contact.
Human interactions and the ability to show God’s love to one another is our best defense in the fight for healthy minds.
1 Peter 4: 8 Above all, love each other deeply,
because love covers over a multitude of sins.
My mom used to say that the story of Jesus turning water into wine was one of her favourite stories.
My mom loved it because Mary knew that being out of wine would embarrass the host. Mary not only knew that but she also knew that her son could fix it. She spoke to her son and he responded, “Dear woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.” (John 2: 4) Most people would have taken this as a rebuff and gone away. Mary, acting in this moment as a mother, not a follower of Jesus, did not go away or get insulted. But instead, this is what the text records; “His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” (John 2: 5)
Mary asserted herself. She knew how to solve this problem. Jesus didn’t push it, he just complied. When you look at the story it really is a very tender interlude. The beauty of the relationship can get lost in the miracle. Don’t get me wrong the miracle is amazing and important. But there is this lovely little moment between a mother and her son.
Buried in the Bible are these wonderful gems. In these moments we can see the humanity. God understands us.
If I could have an afternoon with anyone in the world or in heaven, I would pick my Grandmas. I would sit with them over a cup of tea. I would ask them what they think of me and how I’ve changed. I would ask what they think of what I’ve made of my life.
As wonderful as this would be, I don’t have to use my imagination. I know what they would do. They would smile at me. They would nod at me. They would love me.
Everyone needs to know they are loved. But to be loved by people you admire and wish to emulate – well that is a true blessing.
I think of them so often. Their words have become the grounding of my life. Their actions and faith have given me courage when I had none. Their examples have pushed me to be better. When my days have been dark, they have been lights to my path. I stand on the shoulders of giants!
I am not like them, really. I am less refined, more brash. But they loved me and that is all that matters.
I feel blessed to have people in my life that have shown God’s love. I can imagine God’s love for me because of how I was shown love.
John 13: 34 A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.
We all set goals. Sometimes we fail.
Honestly, I fail a lot.
When I started this blog, I set a goal of writing 5 out of 7 days per week. A high bar. But in addition to writing I determined I wouldn’t just write chatty life bits. But rather I’d write something of meaning. I’d try write the kind of thoughts I think are worth sharing.
Last week I failed. By a lot.
Years ago, when I had decided to improve my eating habits, I had a revelation. My goal can be a guide not a rule book. If I fail and eat too much chocolate one day then for that day I failed, but tomorrow is a new day. Each day is a fresh start. Falling off the wagon yesterday is not a reason to quit today.
In that spirit I’m here to write. Today I’m showing up. Even though I failed last week. I might not fail this week. Today is a new day.
I am learning to be patient and to forgive myself. If you are like me this is one of life’s hardest lessons.
It can be hard to bring kids up in this world. They are constantly barraged by images, ideas and teachings that are counter to what we want for them as parents. I talk with my children a lot about who we are and how we are to live. I impress upon them the idea that we are different; set apart. We belong to God’s Kingdom.
While I want them to recognize to whom they belong, I also don’t want them to feel isolated and alone.
It can be hard to express this idea to children. So, one day I told them a story.
God is in heaven looking down at us. He sees the pain and hardship in the world. He sees the sin. But he also sees us. He sees the people who love Him.
Elijah thought he was all alone. He complained to God that he was the only faithful servant left. The whole of Israel had turned to the god Baal. God told him there were seven thousand in Israel that He reserved. Seven thousand who had not bent the knee to Baal.
God can see his people. He recognises them even when we don’t.
God looks down and sees a light. A soul that he recognizes as His. Now God wants for all souls to belong to Him, but He gives us the choice.
We choose Him. As a result, He looks down and sees our house. In that house there are five lights. Lights for His kingdom.
But that’s not all He sees. He can see the other people who also choose Him. People we know and love. People we’ve never met. He looks down at our city and He sees lights shining like dots across the city. I imagine it looks to Him like the stars look to us when we gaze up at night.
Perhaps this was a bit fanciful for a serious message, but I wanted my children to have a visual they could hold onto. I wanted them to think of God when they saw the stars.
Ephesians 5: 8-10 – For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord.
Ecclesiastes 5: 1 – 3
Guard your steps when you go to the house of God. Go near to listen rather
than to offer the sacrifice of fools, who do not know that they do wrong.
Do not be quick with your mouth, do not be hasty in your heart to utter anything before God. God is in heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few.
The hurly burly of the world around us can be overwhelming, scary, and unpredictable. We can see the tumult in our own lives and wonder, “What is this all about?” We can question God. We can marvel at the chaos. We think, muse, sort out and try to answer.
But I find it does my soul great good just to remember the size of God. The awesomeness of God.
So today I’m just sitting in this thought. I don’t have answers. I don’t have predictions. I don’t have any opinions.
Today I sit silent. Nothing too offer. No words. Just wonder and awe.
It has been a long season of wandering for our family. Long before Wes’ stroke we were struggling with finding a direction. Wes’ work was stressful and sporadic. I was trying to find a way in which I could help support him and help our family.
We thought we had landed on a plan. We moved forward and were excited. Then one-week later Wes had a stroke. It was the start of a chaotic time. Painful and confusing. We got through it and were excited to see what was next… Nothing. Nothing was next.
Waiting.
I struggled emotionally. I wanted to see a plan. I wanted to feel like God had not abandoned us. I was begging God for a rest. I was tired!
Yet, through this time, over and over again, God showed his faithfulness. He provided for us. He comforted us. He answered my prayer by showing us His hand of mercy. I came to think of this as a season of waiting, of preparation. A season in the wilderness.
I thought of the Israelites and their journey in the desert. God was preparing them. God protected them during this time, but he didn’t shelter them. He allowed them to grow under his watchful eye.
I am not sure our season of wandering is over yet, but I am calmer about what it means for me and my family. God has been faithful.
Roberta Writes 