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The light of the world

A long time ago, in a world far away. OK, when I was a kid, but that really is far away these days… When I was in elementary school our teacher decided to take our class to the basement of the old school. I don’t remember why, or even which teacher. It was an object lesson of some sort. I believe the point of the lesson was how little you can see in total darkness. A science lesson.

The only room in the school where they could get the whole class and where they could have total darkness was the furnace/storage room in the basement. We had to exit the school and walk around the back and enter through a small door near the gymnasium wall. It was a door none of us had noticed before and we certainly had no clue there was any sort of a basement behind it.

Calling it a basement was a bit generous. It was a utility room not much bigger than my living room. There was a small window against the exterior wall. Our teacher had covered it with cardboard and dark cloth. We all got positioned against the wall and the lecture was given about safety and not doing ‘anything’ in the dark. We were to remain totally still. Then our teacher turned the lights out.

At first it was black! So dark you could not see your hand in front of your face. I wondered if the person next to me had disappeared. I put my elbow back just to rub up against my friend, to make sure she was there. Then I noticed the tiniest pin hole of light coming through the edge of the window. The teacher also noticed this and there was muffled discussion about what to do about it. It wasn’t enough light to help anyone see, but it was the most visible thing in the room.

This image stayed with me long after the details drifted from my memory. My teacher thought she had covered all the light. Working in the dimly lit furnace room she thought she had her bases covered. And yet, even the tiniest crack of light became visible in the pitch blackness.

The darker the dark the more obvious the light. That tiny crack of light was more powerful than all the darkness before it.

John 1:5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

We are loved

I see it flash across my screen. The video of a young girl, cute as a button, talking assertively to herself in the mirror. “I’m great. I’m awesome. I can do it…” OH, how super! To have such wonderful self-esteem! The video is cute. The kid is cute. I have no issue with her, but it makes me think.

When my kids were little the messages have been ‘raise your daughters to be…’ You fill in the blank. Smart, competent, interested in science – not pretty! Never pretty, girls shouldn’t be valued for their looks. They should be valued for all the other things they do. These messages just made me think.

I don’t want my children, boy or girl, to be valued for anything they do or anything they are. In the end the idea of self-esteem is tricky. Our value shouldn’t be built on who and what we are. We should not feel good about ourselves because of what we can produce or preform.

I am not worthy. I am not all I should be, I never will be. But despite that God loves me. Even with all I do wrong and all I am, he loves me. He loves me so much he sent his son to die for me. My children don’t have to ‘be’ anything excepted loved. That gives them value. Love!

I have an old wooden carving of a shepherd with a lamb across his shoulders. My Grandparents brought it for me on their return from the Holy Land. At the time I didn’t know where the Holy Land was and why they went there, but I saved that little statue. It sits on my shelf today, forty years later. It has no value. It would fetch zero at an estate auction. But I love it. It has value because I put value on it.

Next time you feel you need a boost or a pick me up stand in front of your mirror and say, “I am not worthy, but HE is. I am HIS child. He loved me so much he sent his son to die for me. I’m overwhelmed by HIS goodness.” You might be shocked at how affirming love can really be!

John 3:16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

A season for everything

We have collectively endured a hard and unusual year. A year of family estrangement, a year of fear, a year of chaos and confusion, a year of virtual work and relationships. A tough year all around. Some have carried a heavier burden with loss of family, work and stability.

Regardless of where the swirling winds of the world find you, remember it is ok to grieve. It is ok to be sad. It is ok to be scared. It is even ok to feel bitter.

As I sat for long days beside my husband, who was unable to sit up or even stay awake for more than a few seconds at a time. There was one verse that came to my mind over and over again.

Ruth 1:20 – “Don’t call me Naomi,” she told them. “Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter.”

It gave me such comfort. This might sound strange. At that moment I felt the weight of my burdens. They were piled high and heavy and I was being crushed under the pressure. I felt bitter. Simply bitter. This verse gave me such comfort, Naomi’s example was a light on my own situation. I could see myself in her. This verse was there for me. God saw me!

But this isn’t the only example. There is the wonderful verses from Ecclesiastes 3, A Time for Everything. “a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.” Go now and read the whole thing. It is an amazing reminder of the complexity of our lives. The fullness of our human experience.

At this time of collective struggle remember God knows. He knows our hearts, he knows our suffering, he knows our feelings. God knows. He knows us. If you are feeling overwhelmed – God knows. If you are angry – God knows. If you are sad – God knows. If you are lonely – God knows. He knows all the seasons of our lives.

He knows!

Sit with me a while

If I could, I’d open my door to you. I’d welcome you in. I’d offer you my most comfortable chair and a hot cup of coffee or tea – your choice. And we could talk; face to face. I’d see the expression on your face.  You’d hear the inflection in my voice. We would truly connect.

But we can’t do that. Not now.

Instead let me offer you a moment of respite. Let us dwell together here for a moment. Me on this side of my computer and you on yours. Draw closer in spirit if not in person. We can draw strength from each other. We can encourage one another.

The world out there is wild and angry. Turn it off. Shelter yourself in God’s protection. Turn to Him who knows all and whose hand is in all. Don’t look at the ugliness. Focus your gaze on God.

Psalm 119:

28 My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word.

105 Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.

114 You are my refuge and my shield; I have put my hope in your word.

Together, we can hide our weary souls from the sorrow of the world. We can use the light he provided to guide ourselves forward. We can find our hope in His refuge.

Let us do this together, any way we can, until we can be together again!

Gems of motherhood

My son came out of his room a few months ago and said, “Mom can I buy a new bible?” He felt he had outgrown his ‘Boy’s Adventure Bible.’ I said, “No,” but quickly added, “It’s almost your birthday, let us buy it for you. Then we can get you a nice one.” He nodded and that was it.

We got him a nice leather bound Bible and had his name engraved on the front. A milestone gift. I still use the Bible my parents gave me when I turned sixteen. I decide to put a verse that I love with the inscription. Luke 2: 19 “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.”

Mary, a mother, just like me. Mary watching her child grow in wonder. Mary, the most honoured of all mothers, behaving and loving like all mothers through all time.

God understands. He shows in this simply worded verse. Mother’s are not just for feeding, clothing, loving their children. We are a repository of their lives. We are the archivists of their history. We are the vault of all their treasures.

As a mother I am not parenting the Son of God, but I can share in Mary’s wonder and treasure up in my heart the beauty of the children that God did give us.

The hard road to gratitude

This morning Wes and I watched the latest Youtube sermon by Tim Pippus. He used a text from Genesis 28. The text really spoke to my heart. While I of course enjoyed Tim’s sermon, the verse was even more powerful. This single verse encapsulates how I feel looking back over the events of the last year or so. (I’ve included the link to his sermon below.)

In Genesis 28 Jacob left to go to Haran and he found a place to spend the night. During the night he had a dream where God showed him the blessings he would bring to his descendants. (rough paraphrase) Then this verse – Genesis 28: 16 Then Jacob awoke from his sleep and said, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it.”

We have never, by material standards had an easy go of life. Money has always been scarce. We have had serious health challenges to manage and yet, here we are. When I look back at the struggles we’ve had, maybe softened by time, I don’t see the individual obstacles I see the wide vista. G.K. Chesterton said, “One sees great things from the valley; only small things from the peak.”

Just a little over a year ago, my husband, best friend, and the rock of my life, had a stroke. He was working at the table and got up and said, “I have a headache.” He rarely gets headaches so it got my attention. Things declined rapidly and about an hour later EMS was at our house.

I was now facing the largest mountain of my life. My life lay in ruins around me. Messy ugly ruins. All I could do was pray! That was all I had left. Just so there is no confusion these were not pious careful prayers. Nope. They were ugly, beggarly, angry prayers. I would have put any irate toddler to shame.

I had no strength. Nothing. I was laid bare. Empty. I couldn’t fathom what to do next. The only thing I could muster was taking the very next step. I couldn’t plan further, think further or see further. Just the next thing. The very next step.

The whole year just seemed to add trouble onto trouble. For those of you who think the Covid crisis has been too much imagine adding it to the mountain of insurmountable challenges we were already facing. Just another THING!

And yet, now a little over a year later, I can look back at the path we’ve climbed. We are by no means at the top, but we’ve come a long way and the path while rocky and steep is behind us.

It is from this vantage I can see God’s hand. I can see the whispers of his presence. I can spot the moments where an answer to prayer sustained us. God has been there, even when we couldn’t see him for the obstacles.

God was here even though we did not know it.