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A moment in time

I was driving around today trying to match a piece of kitchen tile. My travels took me east. I found myself driving down a road I used to travel often. I now have little reason to drive that direction. The road was so familiar and the route so pleasant in its memories that I felt sad.

I felt the loss of the past. The loss of happier times. Time and distance remove much of the bluster and fuss that comes with daily life. We look at the past as someone looking through a telescope. It’s way over there, confined to the view of the lens. It’s beautiful and free of close up grit of life. The past is far enough away that you can’t see the dust lingering on the lamp shade.

I felt sad. I forgot the stress of the time and remember the joy. Like the Israelite people who moaned to Moses, “They said to Moses, ‘Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die? What have you done to us by bringing us out of Egypt?'” (Exodus 14: 11)

They all knew that their lives were bad in Egypt, but their current situation seemed so absent of hope that the present felt worse. In the same way I longed for the past as I drove over the smooth wide road. But we can’t go back. Even if we could, it wouldn’t be what we remember. So we carry on.

We move forward putting our trust in God and having faith that he is leading us to the promised land.

Unanswered prayers

I was listening to an essay by CS Lewis while preparing supper. The essay was about prayer, “petitionary prayers,” as he calls them. (I think, forgive me I can’t find it again, but I thought it was called “The Efficacy of Prayer”). I have thought a lot about prayer over the last year and a half. Why it seemed some of our prayers were answered, while others were not. Why God seemed to be helping us in some ways, but yet not in others. It’s a topic I find interesting on a personal level.

The narrator then read something that I had never considered before. Once I heard it, I was shocked I had never thought of the idea. It seemed so dreadfully obvious. In fact, it struck me so hard that I asked my husband if he had ever considered the idea before either. He had not.

CS Lewis posits that even Jesus did not have his prayer answered in Gethsemane. Wow! There. That is it. I had never considered that before. I focused more on the “Thy will be done” than the “Let this cup pass from me.” God couldn’t answer Christ’s prayer the way he wanted, the fate of mankind hung on the plan. But Christ asked it. Not only did he ask it, but he then upon the cross said, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27: 46)

How I could have gone this far in my life without really thinking about this? Last summer, when my fervent prayers were not answered, and I was angry and bitter I felt forsaken, unloved. Christ felt that too.

This realization helped put everything into perspective for me. Unanswered prayers are not a sign of God not approving of me, or not loving me. After all, you can not claim that God did not love Christ or approve of Him. If God can refuse to answer the prayer of His own beloved son, then my more insignificant prayers may go unanswered also.

Christ’s prayers of finding another way forward, were denied in order bridge the gap between mankind and God. You can’t claim that about my prayers. They do not carry the same significance. But like Christ there may be more going on than what I see.

Unlike Christ, I am not privy to the plan. He knew what His role in salvation was, and He knew the stakes. I can’t know the mind of God or the greater plan for my own life and the lives of those around me.

This was a sobering realization. Certainly a new way of framing my frustrations with unanswered prayers.

Matthew 26: 38-39 Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with
sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”
Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed,
“My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me.
Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

Linger at the park

I couldn’t get my little dog to leave the off-leash park yesterday. He was enjoying himself and showed no interest in leaving. He stayed at least 20 feet from me, confident of his ability to out run me. He is normally not so difficult, but it was a beautiful day and I sympathized with his desire to stay. I was however, unwilling to let him dictate my day.

Eventually he couldn’t resist attention from a stranger. While he was getting his head scratched I asked the man to grab him by the collar, then I attached the leash. I might have to trick him, but I will have my way. Silly dog!

While I won’t let a dog control my life, I will let him teach me a lesson. Enjoy the sun while it’s here. Soak up the moments of happiness. God’s world is beautiful enjoy it when you can.

Learning patience

Sometimes I get frustrated with others. Sometimes it’s hard to not put my own concerns first. It can be hard to give and give and give.

But then I read Roman 15 and like a splash of cold water it tells me to ‘snap out of it.’ Christ didn’t get frustrated with my sin. Christ didn’t decide to call me selfish and teach me to figure it out on my own. Christ didn’t walk down a different street to avoid talking to me. Nope.

Christ died for me, for my sin, for my weakness. He took on my failings as his own and bore them. I owe a debt I can never pay. Therefor, I should gain strength from him. His sacrifice should help me swallow my own pride and bear the weaknesses and sorrows of those around me. I can look to him for strength and endurance in the face of frustration.

I needed this reminder this morning.

Romans 15: 1-4 We who are strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak and not to please ourselves. Each of us should please our neighbors for their good,
to build them up. For even Christ did not please himself but, as it is written:
“The insults of those who insult you have fallen on me.” For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope.

Who sustains us?

I saw a meme today. That’s a weird thing to say, isn’t it? In the world before the seismic shift that is our new technological age, I would have never said, “I saw a meme.” If I did say it, you wouldn’t know what I was talking about. But here we are, we find ourselves in a new world. This meme simply said, “Fear says ‘What if,’ Faith says ‘Even if.'”

I love when a complex idea can be encapsulated in a single sentence. This sentence does indeed do this. Bad things will happen to everyone. We can’t judge our place with God by how trouble free our life is. Rather, we need to look for Him in those times of trial and be confident in the relationship we develop during difficulties. The strength we build from our faith helps us with the ups and downs in life.

This is one of my favourite old hymns. I used to sing it in the car to the kids when they were little.

Psalm 121 I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.

Friday morning thoughts

I went for a walk with my husband and my dog. We drove over to the off leash park and walked along the river. The dog ran and sniffed and explored, while we walked along holding hands. Occasionally I had to loosen my husband’s grip. He is strong and sometimes he holds my hand too tight. He always apologizes and we laugh about it.

The path way is lined with people walking their dogs. Lots of smiles and hellos and “what breed is your dog?” conversations. The answer is a mutt, in case you were wondering. My mind drifts back a couple years. A young boy, a recent émigré, would come talk to Willis and me after school. He more than once asked if my dog is a mongrel. It’s such an uncommon word for Canada. This lovely little boy wanted to be a vet one day, I wonder idly if he still does.

The sun is almost hot enough to make me take my hoodie off. Spring has arrived in Calgary. My spirits are lifted. God’s sun is shining on me. This park with all the happy dog-people has been a respite from the craziness of the world we live in. I am never sorry I chose to go (well except that one time when my idiot dog started a fight with a young border collie).

Fear leaves me when I rest in God’s presence. When I slow down and let the sun touch my skin I forget to be afraid of the world around me.

Malachi 4: 2 But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its rays. And you will go out and frolic like well-fed calves.

Be thankful

My husband and I have been… what is the best way to say it? We’ve been living under a cloud for years now. Whether financial struggles, serious health issues, worldwide collapse of everything normal… you get it, it’s been tough.

It can be easy to feel discouraged. I was reading about depression the other day, I think it was something Tim Pippus (a great preacher – look him up) posted about depression. Women tend to exhibit feelings of depression as sadness, while with men it tends to be anger. We need to be aware of this. We need to learn not to react to each other based on the outward emotion, but try to see past the bevahiour and find the root of the problem.

Even doing this can be frustrating. Sometimes you know the cause but can do nothing to change it. Life is hard! Not just for us, but for everybody. We all have difficult times and struggles.

We are admonished to be thankful in all circumstances. It isn’t a choice, we should just do it, even when it’s tough to do. I have found when I do this, even when I am least thankful, that I soon come across blessings I had not contemplated before. This is the key to seeing God’s hand in our life. We will never see our blessings if we forget to look for them.

Sometimes it’s like finding a needle in a haystack, other times it’s a cup overflowing with goodness. Either way we must seek and see God.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks
in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

Finding our place

Years ago when I was a young woman I had a discussion with a youth minister. I was concerned with some changes in the choice of music at the church. The move was toward new contemporary worship songs. I didn’t actually have an issue with the new music. I have always loved music of all types and genres. I was upset with the attitude to the old music. There was a philosophy that suggested we needed to upgrade. The old-fashioned music was out of touch, ‘unrelatable’, old and dusty. I didn’t see it this way. At the time I loved the old hymns and even now I still do.

I had an instinctual reaction to this shift. At the time I was offended musically. I thought it narrow-minded, ignoring music of such an incredible quality. Some of these old hymns were written by brilliant people, both the music and lyrics. This didn’t mean I couldn’t see brilliance in some new music. I thought it arrogant to shove the old music out the door.

I realize now there was a greater danger in this. This attitude toward music signified a much bigger problem. In the early 1990s churches started to worry about being relevant. We needed to be cooler, more hip to the culture. The music needed to be updated. The topics of discussion needed to be updated. We needed cool “full service” Sunday school programs and coffee shops and lots of palaver.

And yet humans are as they ever were. There is nothing new under the sun.

I have come to understand that this was a kind of human vanity, a desire to be a “kingdom builder.” When in the past it was enough to be a part of the kingdom. This attitude sought to bring glory to God by being more culturally recognizable. This on the surface is an excellent goal. But somewhere in that process we felt we needed to help God be more approachable. Yikes!!

I see now the vanity in this. We were the centre of this movement (I say we, because I got swept up in it too). God doesn’t actually need our help. He can use the willing and the unwilling. He can use the Christian and the non-christian. He can use blessings, and He can use suffering to bring people to Him.

These old hymns have in them the suffering of centuries. They recognize our shared humanity (as do many of the new songs). We don’t need to improve on the past, we need to take our place in it. This is God’s story, not ours.

The light of the moon

God is like the sun; blazing, bright and overpowering. Moses hid his face when he approached the burning bush. Our humanity, our sin, keeps us from being able to understand God. Just as the heat and furious power of the sun prevents us from fully understanding it. Yet we live by His light. Everything we have is because of the sun and its warm rays.

He sent His own son to earth as a man. Jesus crossed the bridge between man and God. He showed us, in terms we can understand, what God is. He was the human example, a reflection of God. In the same way the moon reflects the sun. The moon does not have its own light, but rather that of the sun. But we can stare at the moon in a way that we can’t look directly at the sun.

Like the moon, Jesus was a reflection of God. The light belongs to God, but in taking a lesser, human form he gave us a version of the light that we can examine and study and understand.

John 14: 6 – 7 Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life.
No one comes to the Father except through me.
If you really know me, you will know my Father as well.
From now on, you do know him and have seen him.”

The tide is turning

I was listening to G.K. Chesterton’s “Orthodoxy.” There was a line that jumped out at me. “The poet only asks to get his head into the heavens. It is the logician who seeks to get the heavens into his head. And it is his head that splits.” This simple line struck me as so profound.

I have been trying to make sense of our world. And when I try to do that I can work my way into a terrible state; angry, frustrated, scared, and tired. My head begins to ache with the effort. If I choose to look for God’s hand in the world, rather than rationalize, I am more contented.

And when I look for God’s hand I see it. People are standing up and speaking truth. Leaders are beginning to rise and other brave souls are starting to support them publicly. The pendulum is starting to swing back. Light is starting to push back against the darkness. It is happening.

God is moving.

We can’t guess what form it will take, and we can’t predict what will happen. But I see it… I see it happening. I hear the rumblings. People are coalescing. They are aligning themselves with God and they are growing in strength. Every day a bit louder. The rumbling is increasing. Men of power and influence cannot hear it, they can’t see it. A hurricane is coming their way, and they can’t see it, they are blind. But I see it and I know it’s coming. For now, it’s a small cloud on the horizon.

Take heart the tide is turning.

1 Kings 18: 44 The seventh time the servant reported,
“A cloud as small as a man’s hand is rising from the sea.”
So Elijah said, “Go and tell Ahab, ‘Hitch up your chariot
and go down before the rain stops you.'”