Dragonflies and Waterlilies

Why I Support Israel

2011-04-05T19:52:00.002-05:00

About a week ago, I stated in Facebook that I hope Canada's Prime Minister Harper will win the current election because I'm so pleased with his stand for Israel. He's taken a lot of heat for that statement and Canada was not offered a seat at the UN Security Council because of it. Nevertheless, as long as he is prime minister, he says Canada will support Israel.

Someone commented, "Debbie how can you as a compassionate christian support Israel?" I started writing my answer to him in a Facebook message but decided that because of its length, I would post it here instead. I am not a scholar and I do not read scholarly books. What I've written below is completely from memory and, given my age and the state of my mind lately, will likely include some faulty information. Nevertheless, this is why I support Israel:

I have spent my adult life reading about the state of Israel and her history. In the past week I have read two new (to me) books that also shed light on the subject but there are tons of them.

Historically, the problem began at the beginning of the 20th century when Britain, who had political control of much of the Middle East and certainly the land that is now Israel, promised both the Palestinians and the Jews a homeland on the same stretch of land. At the time, the land was not densely populated at all, Jews and Palestinians were neighbours who got along well with each other. They were friends. The land didn't seem all that valuable in terms of agriculture because it was too dry. It was a couple of immigrant Jews before World War II who figured out a way to irrigate the land and began developing orange groves. Nobody had believed it could be done and the Palestinians/Arabs who lived on the land chiefly used it for herds of sheep and goats with seemingly no interest in being innovative.

The history of the Jews in the 20th century but even long before, has been one of constant threat of annihilation. Hitler used a deep-seated distrust of the Jews to convince Germany, Austria and other countries that the Jews were their enemies and should be obliterated. Some believed him; some were afraid to speak against the new policies toward Jews; some supported the Jews secretly, such as providing false documents or hiding Jews from the Gestapo and others were very forward and loud about their hatred for what Hitler was doing.

Hitler's approach to dealing with the Jews was a somewhat gradual one. It wasn't that one day the Jews were doing business with the non-Jews and the next day they were being taken to the gas chambers. Rather, it started out slowly--the Jews were frowned upon, then they had to wear a yellow star of David at all times, non-Jews were told not to shop at Jewish stores and eventually the stores owned by Jews were either vandalised and looted or taken over by non-Jews. There was one night, called Kristalnacht (or night of the glass), when the non-Jewish citizens of Germany and Austria went on a rampage and anything Jewish was destroyed.

During this time, Hitler was gobbling up countries that the allied countries who fought in World War I had promised to protect. Prime Minister Cunningham of Britain was a peace-loving man and was convinced that Hitler could be dealt with through negotiations--except that Hitler didn't give an inch. He swallowed up Austria, the Sudetenland of Czechoslovakia and the edges of France with seeming impunity. It wasn't until he invaded Poland that finally Britain declared war (and with Britain, Canada). On the eve of his invasion of Poland, Hitler declared that since the Turks had gotten away with annihilating the Armenians from their homeland less than 20 years before, he too would be unchallenged as he began to slaughter the Jews.

The Armenians lived in an area called Anatolia in what is now known as Turkey. They proudly trace their ancestry back to Noah; and Mount Ararat, where the Bible says Noah's ark came to rest, is indeed within Anatolia. The Armenians were the first nation to declare itself Christian--before Rome did. They lived peacefully until Turks from Central Asia invaded their land around 1000. From that time on, the Turks, who were Muslim, did all they could to make their lives miserable. It was in the first quarter of the 20th century that the Turks systematically destroyed the Armenian people. Only 10% of the people survived, but they couldn't stay in their homeland and were given land that excluded Mt. Ararat--a great blow to their national pride.

The Turks made Hitler look like a gentle man. They were brutal in the way they tortured the Armenians before they killed them--such as flagellating the soles of men's feet till they were raw and them making the men walk miles. Women and children were taken on long treks through the desert, supposedly to relocate them elsewhere but it was a way to kill them. They were not provided water and when they tried to drink the horses' urine, they were beaten or shot. Many were forced over the edges of cliffs. Children were sold as slaves to Muslim families, women were stripped naked and hung on crosses. Hitler's gas chambers were much more humane (though still dreadful).

For so many centuries, the Jews lived without a homeland and thus lived at the mercy of the officials of whatever country they were in. They have been treated despicably ever since Titus captured Jerusalem in 70 AD for Rome; their temple was completely destroyed and the hundreds or thousands of people who sought refuge in the temple were killed by the fire used to destroy the temple.

Now with Hitler's commanded treatment of the Jews, sending them to gas chambers or to labour camps where they were underfed and overworked with a deliberate eye to killing them off, the Jews had no place to go. No one, not a single nation in the world, would accept a mass migration of Jews from Europe, including Canada and the United States. Some Jews had bought a ship and crammed it full of people wanting to escape. It stopped at port after port, including Halifax, only to be turned away. Where could they go?

Throughout the centuries, the Jews had a farewell to each other that went something like, "Next year in Jerusalem." Jerusalem was their home, the capital of their homeland. King David of the Old Testament was the one who made Jerusalem the capital city of Israel. Before that, God had promised Abraham that he would give the land to his descendants. He repeated that promise to Abraham's son Isaac, his grandson Jacob (also named Israel) and then to Moses who led Jacob's descendants out of Egypt where they had been slaves to the land that God had promised. Under the leadership of Joshua, most of the land was conquered and the nation of Israel was established.

The kingdom was divided into two nations after Solomon's heir, Rehoboam, refused to meet the demands of the people. He kept the smaller part which became the nation of Judah (from which the word "Jew" is derived) and his rival, Jeroboam, took the more substantial amount which became known as Israel. Many generations later, because Israel, the northern nation, had totally walked away from God, God sent the Assyrians to take over the land and exile the people to other countries under the Assyrians' control. In their place, people from other countries were brought into Israel to live in the land. The Israelites were never repatriated to their homeland. Quite a few generations later, Babylon invaded the southern nation, Judah, and exiled most of the people to Babylon (current Iraq) and Persia (now Iran). A small group was allowed to stay in the land and 70 years after the exile, the Jews were given permission (and money) to return to Judah (and Jerusalem) and rebuild their nation, including the temple. They were there during the Persian, Greek and Roman empires, until Jerusalem was destroyed by the Romans and they scattered around the world, including Europe. But they always longed to return home to Jerusalem.

When the European Jews during the time of Hitler realised their lives and race were marked for destruction and that there was no place of safety, the passion to recreate their own country intensified. The British were still in charge of Palestine and did all they could to prevent Jews from coming into the land but the drive to finally have their own homeland where they could be safe was so strong that they did everything possible to circumvent them. Eventually, the land of Israel was established and recognised by the United Nations.

Their troubles did not end. The Quran and Islamic theology have, as an integral part, the charge to destroy the infidels--basically anyone who is not a Muslim. I used to think that the West exaggerated this idea and that it is held only by a handful of extremists from which the terrorists come. I was wrong.

One of the books I read recently is called Son of Hamas by Mosab Hassan Yousef. As you know, the Hamas is a Palestinian group that has, for the most part, taken over leadership of the Palestinians in West Bank and the Gaza Strip. Mosab is the son of one of the founders of Hamas. His book corroborates what I've read from countless books that are sympathetic to Israel and the Jews.

Mosab Hassan Yousef starts out talking about his home life. He had an exceptionally gentle father, much different from the stereotypical Muslim men, who helped his wife in the kitchen, in putting the kids to bed and even washing his own socks out at night. When the Hamas was formed, it was not intended to be political but simply a way to encourage Muslims to return to their Islamic roots--to read and memorise the Quran and live according to its principles. Obviously this changed.

Mosab, as a teenage boy, idolised those Muslims who were standing up to their Jewish oppressors (as they saw them). He wasn't part of Hamas but as his father's son he did have privileged information and high standing amongst the other Muslims in the West Bank. When a friend said he wanted a gun, Mosab made connections to obtain two guns. When the two boys went to try them out, they didn't work. However, Israeli patrols somehow found out about the gun purchase and arrested Mosab. And yes, they were brutal in their torture of Mosab and others, at least at the beginning. When he was approached by the Israelis to become a spy for them, he agreed because he saw it as the perfect opportunity to kill Israelis in high places.

The torture ended and he was sent to another prison. In that place, the various Muslim factions had control over those prisoners who had links to them. What Mosab witnessed was horrifying to him. Far worse than any torture the Israeli's had done to him. What they had done was mild compared to what the Hamas did to their own people in prison. There was no logic as to who was chosen but the chosen's screams could be heard throughout the prison camp. He was shaken to realise his people could be so cruel to each other.

When he was released, the Israeli intelligence, Shin Bet, didn't call him right away and when they finally did, they didn't seem to have any work for him to do. They would chat over cookies and tea. He was amazed at their kindness to them. And yes, the cynic would say that of course they were nice to him--they wanted something from him--but it still amazed him. They sent him to university and paid for it, still not giving him work to do.

Meanwhile, he witnessed his "gentle" father give approval to the beheading of a man whose offense was very small. One sudden sweep of a sword and the man's head was rolling. Mosab was aghast and, with that on top of what he had witnessed the Hamas doing in prison, realised he wanted nothing to do with Hamas or even Islam. He eventually became a Christian.

Mosab Hassan Yousef and Ayaan Hirsi Ali, the author of the next book I read, Nomad, confirm that the destruction of all Jews is part of the Quran and the highest step on the ladder of spiritual good works. Muslims, whether they are Palestinian, Syrian, Somalian, Arabian or Iranian, have one goal and that is to annihilate every Jew in Israel (and beyond). Here is another source of that information, also a former Muslim.

Iran has made it clear that not only Israel is targeted for extinction, but also America. According to Islamic end-time theology, the Twelfth Imam (the Muslim messiah) is due to arrive at any time. However, tied to his appearing is the destruction of the Little Satan (Israel) and the Big Satan (the US). One branch of this theology (that held by the leaders of Iran) believes that the Twelfth Imam cannot come until these two nations are obliterated and so, to hurry his arrival, they must pave the way. One person who is sounding the alarm about this is political strategist, philanthropist and novelist Joel C. Rosenberg, a Christian version of Tom Clancy with some impressive credentials and whose novels have uncannily come true.

While you may argue that Christian and Jewish sources are biased, I offer Ayaan Hirsi Ali, author of Nomad. She's an atheist, grew up as a Somali Muslim who lived in a variety of Muslim countries (and whose father and grandfather were political leaders) and for the past many years has had to live with security personal 24/7 because her life is at risk as a result of her outspokenness against Islam. She too talks about the Islamic goal to eradicate all Jews.

Given the attitude of its neighbours, Israel has no choice but do what it can to defend itself. According to Son of Hamas, Yassar Arafat was offered by Israel pretty much all that the Palestinians were asking for and refused it. Or maybe he was going to accept and the Hamas refused to agree to it. What Mosab observed was that it was more important to the Palestinian leaders to keep the conflict going than to truly provide peace and stability for their people. He found this outrageous and it was one of the factors that lead to his disillusionment of and departure from Islam.

How can such a tiny nation as Israel maintain her safety when she lives amongst a sea of nations that are just waiting for the right time to wipe her off the face of the map? How can we in the West stand by idly and allow Islam to finish off what Hitler started? To me that is abhorrent. We did nothing to protect the Jews during the Holocaust. If we do nothing now, then what are we? We must support Israel and the right of her and her people to exist. To do anything else is unthinkable.

QQC--Weighty Clothes

2011-03-02T08:00:00.016-06:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 28:6-29

Aaron, and all the high priests after him, wore special clothes, different and more elaborate than those worn by the ordinary priests. Part of that were the ephod and breastplate. Both were made of specially woven fabric containing threads of gold but there was more to them than just cloth.

The ephod was underneath the breastpiece and provided its support—held in place by a waistband and shoulder straps, kind of like the top of a full apron. On each shoulder was a stone mounted in gold filigree settings with braided chains of gold attached. Each stone had to be large enough to have the names of six of Jacobs sons engraved on it:

The stones of the breastpiece and the names in Hebrew of the twelve tribes.

I’ve had my name engraved on the front of a Bible or two and even with today’s technology, it takes a fair bit of space. I’m thinking that the stones on Aaron’s shoulders would have had to have been fairly big and thus heavy, to accommodate all that engraving—never mind the weight of the attached gold.

The breastpiece was square and had mounted on it twelve stones, one for each tribe and each in a gold filigree setting. Each stone had written on it the name of the tribe it represented so again, the stones weren’t too small. In addition, each corner of the breastpiece had a gold ring sewn to it, with a gold chain at the two top corners to attach them to the shoulder settings and blue cord between the rings on the bottom corners and tied to two more gold rings on the ephod’s waistband.

All this was a considerable amount of weight. How did the high priest manage to wear this day after day after day?

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QQC--God Blessed and Prepared them Anyway

2011-02-28T08:00:00.003-06:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 28:1-5

In addition to the design and construction of the tabernacle and the articles of furniture to go into it, God instructed Moses on what Aaron as high priest and his sons as priests were to wear.

Aaron had four sons: Nadab, Abihu, Eleazar and Ithamar. In Leviticus 10 we learn that Nadab and Abihu were killed by God because they offered unauthorized fire before God. When God was giving the instructions about the clothing for the priests, he knew what Nadab and Abihu would do and that he would have to destroy them and yet he prepared them for the priesthood anyway. He didn’t leave them out. In fact, as I was searching for the information about this, I realized that it were Nadab and Abihu who went up the mountain with Moses, their father Aaron and the 70 elders—not their younger brothers, one of whom would become the next high priest. Again, God knew these two sons would be disobedient and be destroyed and gave them the honour anyway.

I wonder why and I wonder what, if any, implications this has for us today. I think of the pastors and evangelists who have ended their pastoral careers in disgrace. Again, God knew this would happen and blessed their ministries anyway while those who have stayed faithful to him (like Eleazar and Ithamar) have missed out on the same blessings. What is it about God’s character that causes him to behave this way?

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A Mission Bigger than Ourselves

2011-02-27T20:25:00.002-06:00

Margot Starbuck on Tony Campolo's blog Red Letter Christians talks about the Christian symbolism in literary works like The Chronicles of Narnia and Lord of the Rings and, thinking of seemingly insignificant heroes like Lucy and Frodo, asks the following questions:

What if participating with God in a mission bigger than ourselves was actually part of the master plan? What if journeying through life as the King’s chosen agent, liberating captives, was never meant to be a literary rarity? What if losing our lives as brave bearers of the new kingdom, was never meant to be the exception? What if it’s the rule?

I wonder, how would my life be different if it is the rule? Or, what if I already am participating in such a mission? How would I know? What does it mean? How does it affect my daily life? How does it influence the decisions I make day to day?

QQC--Did it Ever Catch Fire?

2011-02-26T08:00:00.033-06:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 25:31-40

The average gold bar weights 27.4 pounds.

Less than three bars of gold were used to make the lampstand.

It must have been small and delicate.

A lampstand was made for the first, main room of the tabernacle. It was made from 75 pounds of solid gold. The seven lamps on the stand were fueled by olive oil and were to be kept burning from evening till morning. (Leviticus 24:1-3) The tabernacle was never to be dark but always filled with light and when the lamps were burning, there was always a priest in attendance. (Leviticus 24:4) Some of the priests had to work night shifts!

That fire could be dangerous!

What if the priest on watch fell asleep?

Fire inside a tent is always a potential hazard. At camp meetings when I was a child, most everyone stayed in large, canvas army tents and, because there was no power available, candles were often used in the evenings. I remember more than once a tent catching fire. Did that ever happen to the tabernacle, I wonder.

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QQC--Where Were the Utensils Kept?

2011-02-24T08:00:00.011-06:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 25:23-30

Many of the illustrations I found in a Google image search

had the bread in two stacks, rather than two rows.

One item in the tabernacle built at the foot of Mt. Sinai was a table. It was about the same height as the ark but its width and depth were shorter. It too was covered in gold. In addition to the table, the goldsmiths were to make plates, dishes, pitchers and bowls.

We can deduce that a minimum of twelve plates were needed because in Leviticus 24:5, 6 we’re told that bread was laid out on the table in two rows of six loaves each (not two stacks as most illustrations show). Numbers 4:7, 8 informs us that when they were travelling, the plates, dishes, bowls and pitchers were to be stacked on top of the table and covered over.

But where were these items kept when the tabernacle was set up?

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2011-02-23T08:00:00.027-06:00

My husband Tom, who has been painting with water colours for years has taken up acrylics. Here are his first four attempts, all since the new year:

An angel carrying Mikael to heaven

My favourite, though the colours are much more brilliant in the painting than in this photographed copy

"Sad Feelings Are Important"

2011-02-23T02:04:00.000-06:00

I've been following a particular blog for quite some time now and am often blessed by what I read there. It's written by a woman who is in the process of healing from things that should never be done to a child. She's come a long way and I rejoice in the progress she has made. In a recent blog post she wrote the following:

Therapist says the sad feelings are important. Eventually, I will understand and embrace them for they are my personal responses to the painful, unacceptable situations in my life. He believes the sadness might return periodically throughout my lifetime, but I will recognize it, allow it, and move on without becoming overwhelmed by it. He says to feel nothing, to ignore the abuses, allows them continued power. As I weep for my losses, for the hurting child and subsequent aftermath throughout my teen and adult life, I allow those things to heal without disregarding their importance, without denying the existence of events which intensely harmed me, and with that acknowledgement I take control of protecting myself in healthy ways.

Thank you, Samantha. You are a blessing.

QQC--Ark and its Poles

2011-02-22T08:00:00.010-06:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 25:10-16

This llustration seems closest to the biblical description.
Compare to the illustrations below.
Notice how much stouter the poles are
their location at the bottom of the box
and the way they're positioned under the box
to fully support the weight without the rings breaking.

There is no mention of feet on the ark.

The ark of the covenant was a trunk or chest the size of an ample desk—bigger than the one I’m sitting at. Made of wood, it was covered inside and out with gold with gold molding and four gold rings. Gold is heavy. I once held a bar of gold just a bit larger than a chocolate bar and it was heavy. Now imagine a large chest, somewhere between table and counter heights, as deep as it is high and quite a bit longer, covered inside and out with this heavy metal. I have a cedar chest that is maybe a quarter the size, with no gold on it, and it isn’t all that light. Add on the gold and it would need several strong men (back in those days) to carry it.

The shape of the box is good--it doesn't have feet--
but the poles are up too high and
they're in rings that would likely break off with the weight.
Also, there's not enough pole going beyond the box
to allow the men space to put them on their shoulders.

To assist in the carrying, they were to make two wooden poles, also covered in gold to slip through the rings at the bottom corners (not up at the lid) and the ark would ride above the heads of the Levites carrying it. Those poles, nor the rings, could not be slender and delicate as is usually depicted in illustrations or they wouldn’t be strong enough to support the weight. They’d simply snap in two (or three or four). No, these poles must have been fairly substantial in girth to do the required job.

The poles are in the right position
But they are way too thin.

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Missionfest Manitoba 2011--Setan Lee of TransformAsia

2011-02-21T10:28:00.001-06:00

Setan Lee was a third-year medical student, only 17 years old, the day the Khmer Rouge took control of Battambang, Cambodia in 1975. They killed the educated and upper classes and the rest were moved out of the city. Setan managed to hide his identity and was included with a group of 1000 teens guarded by three young girls with AK49s. The teens were given three rules:

No complaining
No emotions
Break the first two and you'll be killed.

When some girls began to cry for their moms, the soldiers pulled out their fingernails, poured hot lead on them and then poked out their eyes. The teens were forced to work 20 hours a day with one small meal and so they would try to find bugs and other things to eat while they were working even though this was forbidden. One day, the girl working next to Setan found a morsel and quietly tossed it to him. The female guard saw this and Setan had to watch while his companion was beaten and then smothered to death. Of the 1000 Setan started out with, only 87 survived the terror of the coming years.

One evening, he was buried alive with only his head above ground. When he was found alive the next morning, the guards began to beat him to death when suddenly they were stopped and miraculously, Setan was given the job of planning the harvest. When his university education was discovered, however, he was lined up with others to be killed. While waiting for his turn, this devout young Buddhist prayed to the "Lord of the Universe" to save his life and when it was his turn to be killed he was spared.

Eventually he was able to escape. While moving through the jungle, a a naked man appeared from nowhere and pushed him to the ground. "Do you believe in the Lord of the Universe?" the man asked. Remembering his prayer and how he had been delivered, he replied that yes, he did believe. "His name is Jesus Christ," the man continued and then disappeared.

A month later, he made his way across the Thailand border into a refugee camp where he began to associate with Christian missionaries. One day he saw the man he had met in the jungle and began to learn from him. Each morning his mentor would teach him Scripture and every afternoon he would go out into the camp to preach what he had heard. He was preaching up to 35,000 people every day before he was able to go to Bible school.

One day the Scripture Setan learned was Galatians 6:1 "Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers." He didn't like the part about doing good to all people because that would include his enemies. That afternoon while he was preaching, he saw the girl who had killed some of his family, smothered his companion in the field and had buried him up to his neck. The sight of her filled him with rage and he wanted to kill her.

He was in the middle of another verse, Romans 8:35 "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?" When he got to the word persecution, he couldn't go on. At that moment, he cried out to God and God took away the anger and replaced it with compassion. Without finishing his sentence, he walked to where the girl was sitting, kneeled down and forgave her. Then he went back to preaching. When he gave the altar call, she was one of those who came running to the front to be saved.

Setan married, immigrated to the US and had children but his heart was for his countrymen back in Cambodia. Eventually he made his way back and started several churches and a number of ministries, including providing a place of safety for girls and women who escape the prostitution they've been sold into and a school to teach girls skills that would enable them to avoid prostitution. He even started a Bible school.

Through a series of circumstances, Setan was brought before Pol Pot (the head of the Khmer Rouge)'s right hand man. When he introduced him to Jesus, the man believed. Setan says that the UN went to Cambodia to bring peace and brought AIDS instead. The general came to Jesus and peace began to be restored in the nation. The best pastors in the nation now are the former Khmer Rouge leaders and soldiers.

Setan and his wife Randa continue to advance the gospel in Cambodia through Women's Ministries, the David Center Orphanage, transforming the village of Kambour and building Cambodia's first Christian university. To learn more of their ministry go here. Setan and Randa have also written the book Miracles in the Forgotten Land and Beyond, which tells their story and about their work in more detail.

Afternoon Hang-out

2011-02-16T16:00:00.000-06:00

I have time to kill between my noon-time doctor's appointment downtown and my late-afternoon appointment at church and so I'm trying out a new place to hang out for the interim.

The establishment is an open, airy bookstore and café on a main thoroughfare. Through the large front windows I can see the tall iron fence of a cemetery. Inside, the three women who had gathered for lunch around a small round table have gone. Their very audible conversation has been replaced by three volunteers around another table where one is reading and commenting on a book that was translated from Russian. Many of the Mennonites in Manitoba came here to escape the Bolshevik Revolution a hundred years ago and some continue to have ties to that country. Other volunteers pass between the back of the store and the kitchen pushing a trolley of dirty dishes in one direction, and freshly cleaned dishes and food in the other. Presumably the cold storage and dishwasher are outside the kitchen. It's a strange set up and odd to see such things passing back and forth between shelves of books.

Business is slow here. The other customers have been a young man at the table in front of me, using his computer. To my left a young woman with long, shiny, dark-red hair is gathering up her books from an afternoon of studying and reading. A high school student just entered, obviously recognised by the volunteer at the counter. "What are you doing here?" he is asked. He must be another volunteer because he needs a note to verify to his teacher that he performed 15 hours of service here.

I love the quiet guitar music on repeat. Moonlight Sonata is playing now but earlier were more contemporary tunes on the same guitar. I'm having a hard time restraining myself from singing along--everyone would hear me if I did; not that I have a bad voice, but I don't want to bring attention to myself.

A large komodo dragon holds pride of place atop one of the low-level bookcases and, taking considerable space, is a slightly elevated stage, barren but for a couple chairs, two stage monitors, an old guitar hanging on the wall and a single, bright red cowboy boot on a small shelf against a pillar to the side of the stage. It matches a music stand in the opposite corner that is also bright red.

I haven't checked out the books yet, except for a glance at the ones near my table. They include books in French, Spanish, Polish and who knows what other languages. I see Horses of the Camargue, Book of the Eskimos, and a thick volume of Christ and the Fine Arts that looks to be at least 60 years old.

A sprite arrangement of daisies in a one-of-a-kind ceramic pot, several live leafy plants and lamps with white shades and brass stands dot the area. I was assured that all along the wall where the tables are, are electrical outlets for computers but all I found was a white extension cord strung along the edge of the floor with one free opening. It is enough.

I shall return, though not for the beef stew or the much-too-sweet apricot bars. The books intrigue me and I want to become acquainted with them. I'm sure I'll find a few to bring home any time I visit.

A Mango Valentine

2011-02-14T20:17:00.005-06:00

One of Tom's favourite treat is dried mangoes so, for Valentine's Day, I bought a framed canvas he can use for his acrylic painting, some dried mango, dried cherries (was looking for red) and pins (the store actually had packages of pins with yellow heads only--usually you can only find mixed colours) and created this valentine for Tom.

Missionfest Manitoba 2011—Paul Estabrooks of Open Doors

2011-02-12T18:01:00.000-06:00

Open Doors is the mission organisation started by Brother Andrew when he began to smuggle Bibles into the Soviet Union. When the iron curtain was opened, Open Doors began to look for other people groups who wouldn’t have Bibles unless they were smuggled into their country.

Paul Estabrooks was in charge of the Far East arena and had already helped to smuggle many Bibles into China but when the Chinese asked for 30,000 they wondered how it could even be possible? They’d never taken in 1,000 in one trip so how could they take 30,000?

The Chinese said, “You pray and we’ll pray and God will show you.” The Bible they printed for the job was the tiniest Bible in the world and called it the Rainbow Project. However, it affectionately became known as Project Hernia. Using a trade show as cover, thirty men each brought two suitcases weighing 92 pounds each, full of Bibles. That’s 184 pounds, in addition to whatever personal items they brought—a change of undies and a toothbrush was about all they had room for.

It was a success and it wasn’t long before the Chinese made a request that was totally impossible—one million Bibles. How? The Chinese said, “You pray and we’ll pray and God will show you.” The previous Bibles had been printed in the traditional Chinese script but these Bibles would be in Mao Tse Tung’s simplified Chinese.

There was a joke about this. With the traditional writing read from top to bottom, the Chinese joked with the Westerners that they were more spiritual because they nodded in agreement with the Bible as they read it, where as we, with our left-to-right reading has us shaking our heads side to side in disagreement. Well, the simplified Chinese has adopted the left-to-right method and so the Westerners could now tease back and say the Chinese were more spiritual any more.

The Bibles printed for Project Pearl (the Bible being the pear of great price that Jesus spoke about) were somewhat bigger than the 30,000 lot and would weigh 232 tons. How to bring that much into China without the officials knowing? The promise God gave them while they ironed out all the details was from Jeremiah 33:3 “I will show you remarkable things.”

The solution turned out to be a specially built tugboat that could accommodate all the men needed to do the job and a barge that, loaded, would have very little of it showing above water. This would make it easier to offload the Bibles that were packaged in one-ton, waterproof blocks.

The other part of the problem was this: Could the Chinese handle a million Bibles? Could they receive them and distribute them without getting caught? The Chinese replied that they were willing to die if a million people could each have a Bible.

The night on which the Bibles were delivered was clear with a bright, shining moon—not ideal conditions for smuggling. 20,000 believers were waiting on shore and it took only two hours to offload all the Bibles and leave.

It took five years for all the Bibles to be distributed throughout the country—every province except Tibet received some. As a result, revival broke out.

One of the million stories that emerged from Project Pearl is about a pastor who had no Bible. Once a week he would ride his bicycle twenty kilometres to another pastor who had a Bible. He took notes which he then took back home and used for his church. When he got his Bible, he read it cover-to-cover in one week. The next week he read it through again and again the week after. He went on to become an evangelist and in 15 years had a congregation of 400,000. Each month another 20,000 became believers. I can’t imagine!

Paul declares that you cannot be too young or too old to preach. One 14-year-old is in charge of 400 churches and an 89-year-old woman (must have heard Doug Nichols preach) went to Tibet, the darkest part of China, and started three house churches in Llasa.

There have been big changes in the church in China. For one, millions of Bibles are now distributed each year because things are more open. House churches have moved into the cities where they’re growing as fast as those in the rural areas and now there’s a movement to go beyond house churches and meet in warehouses.

In addition, there are a number of groups of churches who are committed to reaching the Muslim world. Back to Jerusalem is only one such group. Another group with a million pastors intends to send a tithe of their number as evangelists. There are about half a dozen such organisations with this goal. The advantage the Chinese have is that they are not mistrusted by the Muslims as Westerners are. When they see us, they think about the Crusades (and, I’m guessing, the “Great Satan,” the USA).

I admire the courage of the believers in China, especially of those who have risked imprisonment or loss of life to ensure that God’s Word will be read, preached and believed throughout China and those, like Paul Estabrooks, who facilitate the Chinese believers’ work from outside the country.

Lord, give us the same courage and passion for your Word and for those who will die without you unless we bring them the Good News.

Missionfest Manitoba 2011--Ron Pearce of Empower Ministries

2011-02-08T14:41:00.000-06:00

I often hear Ron Pearce on the radio with his Empowering Moments spot, so it was good to see and hear him for a longer longer length of time. When he asked Missionfest's organiser what he should talk about, he was told to tell "stories that hit you and stay in your brain," so he tried to tell as many as he could. He spoke so fast, I sometimes could get only short little "sound" (print?) bites.

Empower Ministries goes to spiritual hot spots in the world to bring Bibles (600 to Ethiopia, recently), motorcycles and goats (286--to Egypt?) along with other things. Imagine trying to bring 286 goats into a country!

In Ethiopia, Orthodox pastors are turning away from their voodooism to Christ. Some of them have never read the Bible before.

When we look at what is happening in Egypt the past two weeks or remember 9/11, we don't need to be afraid. We don't need to worry about whether the end times are here or not, he said, because in the end, we know that God reigns.

Twenty-two years after the massacre in Tienanmin Square, those protesters are some of the strongest Christian leaders in China. How cool is that?

There are good things happening. In Iraq, 80,000 Bibles have been delivered. Muslims are on their knees, begging for the Scriptures.

Ron directed us to the story of Philip in Acts 8. Why is the story of Simon the magician in the Bible? Simon became a believer and had been following Philip around "constantly amazed" (NAS) at the miracles he saw. So he wanted to buy the power to do the same so that others could be amazed at what he did. Do we do things for a show or as a way of life?

In China, miracles and people turning to Jesus have become so common-place that the leaders are no longer amazed when they see these things happen. For them, it's become an expected way of life. While Simon wanted to buy the power of the Holy Spirit, others craved God. New believers in Asia are maturing in their faith so fast, they move past the amazement quickly.

There is estimated to be 120 million Christians in China currently but one old woman, a Christian leader, believes that it won't be long before a quarter of all the population will be Christian. And these aren't shallow Christians who show up to church on Sundays and the rest of the week do what they want. These converts know that they could be thrown in prison or killed because of their decision and the living out of it.

Vietnam has 1.6 million believers. Ron was there, one time, speaking, when he saw a young man sitting near the front, crying--for two solid hours. Afterwards, the man came to speak with Ron. He took his hand and wouldn't let go and then hugged him as though they were married. He had just recently been ordained but already he had started 30 to 40 churches with 27,000 believers under his leadership.

How is this possible? He and his team go to a village and look for the sickest person there. Ron told the story of an old woman with multiple leg fractures. They prayed for her, her bones healed immediately and she got up, walked out of the tent and waved to everyone waiting to see what would happen. The whole town believed. This woman was a leader in the district so she took the team to other towns and villages and because she endorsed the Christians whole towns and villages turned to Jesus.

Six months ago in Myanmar, a church leader carried 50-70 pound packs of rice past road blocks to feed the starving people. As a result, 250 monks and thousands of people accepted Jesus.

There is one prison in Myanmar that is considered by some to be the worst prison in the world. When prisoners die, they are left in the prison to decay. However, there are six pastors imprisoned here. I don't remember the whole story but I think the governor was so impressed with what the church leader did in carrying rice to the starving people, that he asked the pastor what he would like the governor to do for him. Reminds me of those stories where a king offers up to half his kingdom. What the pastor asked for was to have a little twig shack built in the prison so that the pastors there would be able to have a place to minister to the other prisoners.

The governor flatly refused. Instead, he built a brick church in the centre of the prison complete with pews and stained glass windows. 250 men have already accepted Christ and the imprisoned pastors are now considering staying in jail once they're free to go so that they can continue to minister to the people there.

After the 2008 earthquake in China, a 23-year-old girl started 30 churches. She's hoping to go to Bible school eventually, but while she waits, she's starting churches. One time Ron was visiting one of her churches. He had to park his vehicle some ways away and go in by foot. He had several boxes of books for them but he figured a few strong men could come back to the vehicle to carry them to the village. While he was there, an alert came that officials were approaching and he had to get out of there as fast as possible. The girl walked him back to his vehicle. She's a wee little thing and there was no way she would be able to carry all the boxes back to the village but she refused his help saying he would get into great trouble if he went back to the village while the officials were there so she carried them all back herself. Someone told Ron that those boxes would never touch the ground. Men would come and take the books and run to other villages with them--Bibles are so hungered for.

David is another pastor in China. He started planting churches in the 1990s. Wherever he went, people accepted the Gospel. One day he was arrested. He was tied to the rafters of the prison and beaten with a stout metal pole for the next 45 days, resulting in multiple breaks in his back. When he was released, he went back to teaching. When he was arrested again, he was put into a wee little cell for two months and then was tricked into signing an agreement to stay in the prison for another two years.

In China, prison means hard labour and he was assigned to carry bricks despite all the injuries to his back. Despite the pain and the labour, David continually smiled. It was as if he couldn't stop. Finally he was asked by one of the guards, "Why are you smiling?"\

"I won't tell!" he answered coyly. And the upshot of that? Like Joseph, he was raised to head of the prison, in charge of even the guards. Because he now had free reign of the commandant's office, he found the Bibles that had been confiscated from him and distributed them to the prisoners. He had the best job in the world!

David's wife was put in prison when she was three months pregnant. The cell was 8 x 8 feet and she shared it with nine or ten other women. I can't imagine! Whenever it was her turn to be beaten, the other women would cover her with their bodies to protect the unborn baby. She was released just before the baby was born.

The growth of the Church in China is phenomenal and there aren't enough people to be leaders to go out and explain Jesus to others. This is something we can pray about. The Chinese are praying for those of us in the Western Church, that we would have a closer walk with Jesus and be as on-fire for God as they are. I wonder what it will take for us to get to that point.

Missionfest Manitoba 2011--Doug Nichols of Action International

2011-02-07T20:29:00.000-06:00

Doug Nichols was a young college student and living "the good life," partying and getting drunk One night he came home to his apartment rather inebriated and a fellow student, studying through the night, came and offered him some coffee. As Doug drank cup after cup, the other student told him the Gospel and, in the wee hours, he accepted Jesus into his life.

The first book he read in the Bible was Romans and when he read chapter 13, "owe no one anything," he was convicted. He had used thievery to support himself and now went back to each home he had burglarised, introduced himself, asked them to make a list of everything he had taken and he would come back later in the evening to repay them. "Funny thing," he says, "none of them called the police on him. They were probably too shocked.

He decided to go to Prairie Bible Institute in Three Hills, Alberta but had such learning disabilities (how had he managed college then?) that he was ready to pack up and quit when old professor came to him, encouraged him to continue and promised that he and the other staff would try to help him. After graduation (he said he didn't really graduate, they just let him leave), he applied to thirty mission organisations and none of them would take him. When he got married, his wife was wanted but he still wasn't. Eventually they wound up in the Philippines.

It was in the Philippines that he and his wife founded Action International, a ministry aimed at the thousands of street children in Manila. The mission now, nearly forty years later, "has over 225 members from thirteen different countries, with ministries in over twenty countries including: Austria, Brazil, Cambodia, Canada, Colombia, Cuba, Ecuador, Honduras, India, Mexico, New Zealand, Philippines, Spain, Uganda, Ukraine, United Kingdom, USA, and Zambia."

Doug tells the story of a twelve-year-old girl in Sao Paulo, Brazil who wanted to join a gang. To initiate her, they raped her all night, poured igniter fluid on her and set her on fire.

During the genocide in Rwanda, refugees fled to Zaire. Imagine a million people in one camp without proper toilet facilities. All the toileting was in the open and, because it was rainy season, everything poured into the lake from which they got their drinking water. This is a recipe for cholera and in three days, 50,000 people died, many leaving orphans behind. Doug recounts being outside a hospital tent, watching a worker come out the door with a baby in his arms. The baby was living, moving. On the ground nearby were many children of various ages laid in rows. Some were dead and some still living. The worker gently placed the baby amongst them and walked away. There was nothing more they could do except put the little one out to die.

We cringe at both of these stories and cry out, "There must be something we can do!"

Doug reminds us of the story of the two fish and five loaves. Just as the disciples didn't have much food to start with in feeding the crowd, we may not have much either but it's not how much we have but how little. He points out that if left unused, fish begins to stink and bread dries out. If we're not allowing God to use us and the little we have, we are stinky fish.

There are three groups of people, says Doug: The neglected, the nobodies and the needy.

1. The Neglected
a) There are three billion people in the world who have no gospel and no one nearby to tell them.

b) The Elderly
During the European heat wave in 2003, nearly 15,000 people died, most of them elderly. They were neglected.

c) Teens
Many never have an adult to talk to them or have never had a home-cooked meal.

Doug was living in Colorado, fighting cancer. He had left work early because the latest radiation treatment had made him sick. As he passed a doughnut shop, he saw their advertisement for doughnuts at half price, so he stopped. Inside a large teen boy was angry and swearing at the tiny Asian girl behind the counter. Doug was about to rip into the boy until God nudged him and so he listened to the boy's story instead. As they talked, the teen noticed that Doug was sick. He walked Doug back to the car, buckled him in and said, "Thank you for talking to me." Doug remarks, "I was ready to tear him apart and he thanked me for listening!"

d) Races, Colours, Muslims
One time Doug was on a plane and discovered his seat mate was a Muslim. They began to talk about the differences between Islam and Christianity and finally Doug asked the man, "Do you know if you will go to heaven?"

"No," said the Muslim, "I don't know if I will have enough good works to go there."

Doug replied that he knew he was going to heaven.

"How can you be so sure?" the man asked.

"Because of good works."

The Muslim was amazed. "How is that possible?"

"Ah! It's not my good works that will get me there, but Jesus'."

Doug gave the man a tract, and the Muslim got off the plane excited to know that indeed a person can know he is going to heaven.

2. The Nobodies
These are the poor. The Bible says to defend the rights of the poor and the needy. Where does a three-year-old street child go when a typhoon comes to town? What does a six-year-old do when she has the flu?

What do poverty-stricken parents do when they cannot manage? Sometimes they sell their children into prostitution. Doug said that 15,000 kids between the ages of 9 and 12 have been or are sold into prostitution. I wonder if that is per year because according to UNICEF Philippines, in 2001 there were between 60,000 and 100,000 child prostitutes.

In Manila itself, there are 50,000 prostitutes. Doug was with a group of short-term missionaries who had arrived just the day before. He gave a pamphlet to one of them, pointed out a little girl prostitute and asked her to go talk to the girl. When the woman went over, the things she said were insensitive and critical. Finally she looked down at the girl and saw that she was crying. The woman asked if she had offended the girl and the girl responded, "No. I never knew anyone who cared before." The woman asked if she could start over and the girl accepted Jesus. Then she brought her friend to also hear what the woman had to say.

We may be old or sickly, but we can still do something.

3. The Needy
Who are the needy? Children, orphans, widows. Jesus said, "Let the children come to me." (Matthew 19:14) What sorts of things can we do for children? Orphanages! So what if you're 80! You're going to die soon anyway, so why not give your last years to take in 500 children in Malawi. So what if you work yourself to death in two years? You'll have 500 children standing around your grave, thanking God that you came to them! No one forces the key to death. Jesus controls and turns it and so there is no need to fear death. "Let the Grey Heads Arise!" he declares.

One day Doug was being driven to a speaking engagement when the driver stopped at a detention centre for children ages three to seventeen. When they entered the compound, the children recognised the driver and climbed all over him and, since Doug was with him, they figured Doug must be a good guy too and climbed all over him as well. He noticed a little boy, the ugliest kid he had ever seen, following him. When the boy drew near, Doug reached out his hand to touch the boy's shoulder. Immediately the boy jerked away--evidence that the boy had little to no experience with a good touch from a man. But he kept following and Doug kept reaching out. In the end, the boy allowed Doug to walk with his arm around him. When it was time to leave, and Doug had walked out the gate, he turned back to see all the kids congregating around the fence. He saw the boy at the back of the bunch and reached his hand through the fence towards him. The boy came forward, grasped his hand, clasped it to his chest and wouldn't let go. When Doug finally got into the car, he broke down in tears.

He ended the evening encouraging us to pray this prayer, "Lord, give me a little of the passion I heard tonight."

QQC--God in the Cloud

2011-02-07T10:00:00.006-06:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 24:15-18

God's glory looked to the Israelites like a consuming fire (v.17) but the first description we have of it in this passage begins in verse 15: "When Moses went up on the mountain, the cloud covered it, and the glory of the Lord settled on Mount Sinai. For six days the cloud covered the mountain." On day seven, God called to Moses from inside the cloud and Moses entered the cloud, where he stayed for forty days and forty nights.

This reminds me of the transfiguration of Jesus. "After six days Jesus took with him Peter, James and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves.... While [Peter] was still speaking, a bright cloud enveloped them, and a voice from the cloud said, 'This is my son, whom I love....'" Matthew 17:1, 5)

Notice that in both cases, there was a cloud on a mountain, God spoke from the cloud and six particular days were noted before this event occurred.

Clouds figure strongly in people's encounters with God:

God went ahead of the Israelites in a pillar of cloud to guide them from Egypt to the Promised Land (Ex. 13:21)
When the tabernacle was completed, a cloud covered it, the glory of the Lord filled it and Moses couldn't enter it because of the cloud and God's glory (Ex. 40:34, 35)
At the dedication of Solomon's temple, the cloud filled the it and the priests couldn't do their jobs because of the cloud and the glory of the Lord present (1 Kings 8:10, 11)
In Ezekiel's first vision an immense cloud came from the north "with flashing lightning and surrounded by brilliant light. The center of the fire looked like glowing metal...." (Ez. 1:4) The glowing metal matches John's description of He-Who-Sits-On-The-Throne in Revelation. The four living creatures were in the fire (v.6) and in Revelation, John describes the four living creatures as being in the centre, around the throne with the 24 elders surrounding them. (Rev. 4:3-6)
When Jesus was taken up into heaven, a cloud enveloped him and hid him from the disciples (Acts 1:9)
In Revelation 10, a mighty angel comes down from heaven, robed in a cloud; the two witnesses of Revelation 11 went up to heaven in a cloud; in chapter 14's vision of the throne room, John saw "a white cloud, and seated on the cloud was one 'like a son of man' with a crown of gold on his head and a sharp sickle in his hand"
Jesus told his disciples that they would see him "coming in a cloud with power and great glory" (Luke 21:27) and after Jesus went up to heaven in a cloud, an angel told his disciples that he would "come back in the same way" they saw him go up into heaven. (Acts 1:11)

I find this pairing of God with a cloud very interesting. I wonder what the significance is.

It reminds me of The Cloud of Unknowing that was written anonymously in the fourteenth century. It's full title is Here Beginneth A Book Of Contemplation, The Which Is Called The Cloud Of Unknowing, In The Which A Soul Is Oned With God. It sounds intriguing. Is there a connection? I don't know enough about the book to say but you can find a summary of it here.

All quotes taken from the NIV 1984 edition

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Missionfest Manitoba 2011--An Introduction

2011-02-05T13:52:00.000-06:00

I love Missionfest and have gone every year but one or two in the last 15 or 20 it’s been happening in Winnipeg. I grew up on mission stories and as soon as I had money to do so (around age 12), I started buying my own. To spend a weekend listening to those who are serving in the front lines is heaven and I can’t remember being disappointed with any of the speakers except perhaps the one long ago who seemed to have a need to constantly check that his fly was zippered as he spoke.

We’re meeting in a new venue this year with much more space for the 120 exhibitors (mission organisations, Bible schools and camps), the plenary sessions and the seminars in between. Last night I walked so much, trying to see everything, that I was totally done in. Last year I bought nearly every book that was being sold but this year I’m limiting my purchases to books that are stories. They’re faster to read and I still have some of the slow-to-read books from before.

There are five plenary sessions with Doug Nichols, founder of Action International in the Philippines (they work with thousands of street children), speaking Friday night; Ron Pearce, founder Empower Ministries that takes Bibles, motorcycles and goats to the spiritual hotspots around the world who spoke this morning; Paul Estabrooks from the organisation started by Brother Andrew, “God’s Smuggler,” who orchestrated the clandestine delivery of one million Bibles to China talking to us this afternoon; Joseph D’Souza, founder of Dalit (untouchables) Freedom Network in India sharing this evening and Setan and Randa Lee who survived Cambodia’s killing fields, brought the top general of the Khmer Rouge to Jesus and thus opened the country to the gospel Sunday afternoon.

In between there are workshops led by these and others. I’m looking forward to the last-minute-put-together session later today that will discuss what is happening in Egypt right now.

The other fun thing about Missionfest is that people from churches of all stripes come together to worship and learn despite denominational differences and I get to see people I know but rarely see.

The worship music has started out slowly. Last night we were led in hymns by a mass choir that sounded like some favourite CDs I have and this morning we sang slow contemporary songs but I expect the beat will pick up as the event progresses so that the older attendees might want to come with ear plugs and younger folk may be dancing in the empty spaces. Tomorrow will end with a parade of the nations.

As the weekend progresses, I plan to share the things I’ve heard and learned. I hope it will inspire you like it has, is and will inspire me.

QQC--God Is a Consuming Fire

2011-02-04T14:00:00.002-06:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 24:15-18

After the three priests and 70 elders returned to camp, where the rest of the nation was waiting, Moses went up the mountain and God's glory covered it. His glory appeared to the Israelites as a consuming fire.

Interestingly, in the letter to the Hebrews in the New Testament, the writer of that book says, "our God is a consuming fire."

"At that time," referring to Mount Sinai, "[God's] voice shook the earth, but now [in the Christian era] he has promised, 'Once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.' The words 'once more' indicate the removing of what can be shaken--that is, created things--so that what cannot be shaken may remain." (Hebrews 12:26, 27 NIV)

The removing of what can be shaken. Other parts of the Bible talk about how God refines us. How is anything refined? In fire--the fire that consumes all that can be burned so that all that remains is the pure gold or silver that cannot be destroyed.

There are other places where God is likened to fire. When Israel was leaving Egypt, "by day the Lord went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud...and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light." (Exodus 13:21 NIV)

Ezekiel describes "the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord" as a man-like figure that was molten metal from the waist up and like fire from the waist down. (1:25-28)

When we draw near to God, his presence consumes us. I wonder if the "everlasting fire" to which the wicked are sent might not be the presence of God. For the unredeemed, the presence of God may in fact be hell, since they have spent their lives on earth staying as far from God as they could.

Our God is a consuming fire. How close to this fire are you willing to come? How much of yourself are you willing for God to consume? When he is done, would there be gold or would you be completely destroyed because there's only straw?

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QQC--Seventy-four Saw God

2011-02-03T08:00:00.003-06:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 24:9, 10

When Moses first went up Mount Sinai, he did not go alone. "Moses and Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and the seventy elders of Israel went up and saw the God of Israel.... But God did not raise his hand against these leaders of the Israelites; they saw God, and they ate and drank."

Imagine! Seventy-four of them saw God and did not die; it wasn't just Moses. They ate and drank in God's presence. They didn't go all the way up the mountain with Moses because in the next verse, God calls Moses to come up the mountain but they did go up part of the way.

If we doubted that they all saw God, we can look at a descriptor that was given: "Under [God's] feet was something like a pavement made of sapphire, clear as the sky itself." John in Revelation described it this way: "before the throne there was what looked like a sea of glass, clear as crystal." (4:6) I could be wrong but it seems to me that Moses and the 73 others must have seen the same scene as John when he saw God's throne in heaven. John's description of the throne "room" matches that of Isaiah's (chapter 6) and Ezekiel's (chapter 1), giving a continuity from the beginnings of the nation Israel and the first construction of the tabernacle (Moses), through the time of the kings and Solomon's temple (Isaiah), the exile and destruction of the first temple (Ezekiel) to not long after the destruction of the temple built by Herod (John). I think that's rather cool.

God is the same, yesterday, today and forever.

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Tuesday Afternoon Ramblings

2011-02-02T10:15:00.000-06:00

2:17 p.m.

I’m hanging out at Perkins, waiting for 6:30. A friend phoned this morning, asking me to take her to the doctor and, because Tom and I are going for marriage counselling in the early evening, I figured I may as well stay out for the afternoon. I wanted to go for a walk this morning but chose instead to nap to get me through the long day (having gotten up too early); so as I was driving away from the doctor’s I was thinking of where to go.

The Forks is a fun place to walk and have lunch but as I turned onto Main Street I realised I had the perfect opportunity to do what I’ve been wanting but never do—walk in my church neighbourhood. I was right there! Finding a parking spot, I set out at a brisk clip. It didn’t take long for me to discover that I wouldn’t be walking too long at that speed and slowed my pace.

It’s a beautiful day—clear, sunny skies and feeling warmer than the -39F with wind chill given by Environment Canada—and the walk was good. As I walked, I prayed. During daylight hours, the neighbourhood looks much more respectable than in the dark—people going about their daily business waiting for the bus, going to the doctor, shopping in the stores—but it is a community of great need, pain and low-budget efforts to relieve that pain. “God! Come to this place! Take away the spiritual darkness and bless the good that happens here!”

Back in the 1800s, immigrants arrived in Winnipeg via the Canadian Pacific Railway. Those with money and/or British roots settled to the south of the tracks but those from places like Poland, the Ukraine, and Germany settled to the north. Winnipeg remains loosely divided along those lines—the universities, professionals, white-colour workers to the south and the trucking companies, trades people and blue-collar folk to the north.

Eighty or ninety years ago, the North End was populated by little shops, synagogues and onion-domed eastern churches tucked away in unexpected places. A strong work-ethic was the engine that drove those who lived here. You can still find buildings that testify to this time—the grocery store selling fresh produce I don't know the names of and other goods from Eastern Europe, the printing press that continues to publish a Ukrainian-language newspaper, a tourist agency experienced with trips to Warsaw, Kiev and Minsk.

In recent decades, however, there has been a new kind of immigrant to the area—aboriginals from the First Nation reserves, hoping for a better life in the city but, finding the lie, who lack the money, motivation or other reasons to return home. These are the disenfranchised, the children of the Indian residential schools who grew up abused by school staff; language and culture stolen from them and, after generations of this, left with despair, inner turmoil, grief and little concept of how to “do” family.

They are the flotsam that south Winnipeg and the suburban communities ignore or deride. It is their daughters who stand on the streets, even at forty below, waiting for the johns in their minivans, heavy trucks or light sports cars to stop and do business and their sons who join the gangs that pimp the girls, stagger in the streets from too much drink and stab or shoot each other for reasons as trivial as not being given the cigarette they ask for. It is their little girls on their way to school who are propositioned, their young woman who vanish without trace or who struggle to raise their children in God-fearing ways in a culture gone awry. It is a neighbourhood of desperation and hopelessness unmasked by a lack of money the more affluent use to bury and hide many of the same problems. It is an area that my church intentionally chose as home and that I’ve come to love.

The brightness of the day and the crispness of the air make these problems less noticeable but they’re impossible to hide and I prayed for the people and businesses I passed. After I crossed Main St. for the walk back to my car, my body began to complain. First it was my calves and then my lower back. Ugh! Would I make it back? The distance wasn’t far but my long season of depression has left me so unfit even the shortest distances and simplest tasks can be monumental.

I was beginning to overheat. My extra insulation demands that I wear fewer layers in the cold than most people but even my scarf and the sweater replacing my coat made me too warm. Perhaps I looked like I fit in better as I stopped every quarter of a block to ease the sore muscles (or was the pain pinched nerves?), leaning against the store fronts until I was able to move on again. The walk was good but I was grateful to finally reach the car so I could sit.

As I considered where to have lunch and hang out for the afternoon, it occurred to me that a place near where we’ll go for marriage counselling would be best. A Perkins is there and maybe they’d be able to give me a table near an outlet for my computer by one of their bright windows. If not, I could drive on to a coffee shop I enjoy with a woodsy, outdoors feel, large fireplace, plenty of power outlets and the Internet. Perkins had the perfect table for me and I’m enjoying the silent emptiness of a late Tuesday afternoon.

I’m tired but not debilitatingly. So long as the waitress keeps filling my teapot, this is a nice place to be and I’m grateful that I have access to places like this. Please pray for those who don’t.

A God-filled Sunday

2011-02-01T08:58:00.002-06:00

Because my sleep has been so messed up, I usually have to force myself to get up Sunday mornings to go to church. I love church and don’t like missing but sometimes I’m just too tired because of lack of sleep. This past Sunday, however, I woke an hour before the alarm was supposed to ring. I tried to go back to sleep but couldn’t—good thing, because when I went to turn the alarm off, I realised I hadn’t turned it on. Thank you, God!

I’ve been trying to get into a healthy routine to try and break the hold that depression has had on me far too long and one of the components of that routine is sitting in front of what I call my Happy Lamp for 30 to 60 minutes. It’s a medical device used to treat Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) and I’ve noticed that it makes a remarkable difference to my day. I hadn’t been using it because of the low point I’d been at for a while, but Sunday I started again and perhaps it’s one of the reasons I had an unusually good Sunday this week.

It seemed to be a beautiful day when I looked out the window so I opted to leave my winter coat at home and wore only a sweater with hat and mittens. My first clue that it was maybe colder than I thought was when I tried to pull out into the lane. The steering wheel was so stiff, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make the turn. Once in the lane, all was well, however, and so I continued. As I approached downtown it was evident that this was an unusually cold day—the moisture and heat rising out of the tall buildings was the give-away for that. Later, when I checked the temperatures, I learned that it had been -49F (with the wind chill) at 8:00 a.m. At 9:00, when I left home, it had risen to a balmy -45.

I think my favourite part of Sunday morning is the pre-service prayer time in the “Comfy Couch Room.” The enormous windows of the room allow for a lot of sunshine inside and there’s something very special about meeting with others to pray. After prayer time, I noticed a woman behind where I was sitting who doesn’t come to church often so I stopped and chatted with her for a while. I enjoyed our conversation tremendously and went on into the worship service with joy.

I noticed the man sitting directly in front of the chair I had chosen as my place to sit and greeted him. Gordie lives at a “flee-bitten” hotel, known as the largest crack house in the city—not a pleasant place to live but certainly better than under a bridge or in a cardboard box in the alley. I first met Gordie and his wife a couple weeks before Mikael died. My church was having a conference called “What Love Does,” and one of the components was for small groups of attendees to visit various homes in the neighbourhood for sharing circles—the idea being that both hosts and guests would share their stories and discover that there really is a lot we share in common despite the differences between suburbanites and the inner-city disenfranchised. Gordie and Beatrice hosted a group I was part of and our visit was a remarkable time of learning what life can be like in this gang, drug and homelessness-bound neighbourhood, finding that we had much in common and bonding with each other. Beatrice died about a year later and I happened to be sitting beside Gordie the Sunday that was announced, which gave me the opportunity to hug him and pray for him.

After I sat behind him two days ago, I leaned over to remark on how much weight he has lost. He hadn’t been a large man before and now he is gaunt. But he was pleased I had noticed and so we chatted for quite a while before joining the worship happening around us. I love connecting with people in that way.

When the service was over, my path took me past Larry. Larry is a youngish man in a wheelchair. Attached to the chair and on his lap are a multitude of items that I suppose he has need of throughout the day away from home. He can often be found panhandling at a busy intersection, offering to write a poem off-the-cuff for those who ask—for a fee, of course. He’s a wild-looking man with unkempt hair (probably helps with the panhandling), a face that is gentle but determined and a mind that is intelligent, active, thoughtful and very logical. He loves to read and to discuss issues.

As I asked him how he was, he shared with me about an upcoming court date. With a strong sense of justice, he has sued his landlord for claiming to have a wheelchair-accessible building when, in fact, it is not. Since legal aid won’t touch the case, Larry has been spending the last while pouring through law books so that he can represent himself. I admire his tenacity and courage and loved the conversation we had as we half-blocked a busy “thoroughfare” in the sanctuary. I gave him some tips on interlibrary loans (for instance, he could tell the public library that he wants a certain law book that they don't have and they'll borrow it from the law society or something) and after praying for him and the outcome of his case (first hearing is tomorrow if you want to join me in prayer for him), I headed out the building.

There I was approached by Raymond—present whenever the church is open and self-appointed guardian of the parking lot. “Do you have two dollars so I could buy some milk?” he asked.

“Sure!” and gave him the change I had in my backpack.

The steering wheel gave me more problems, as I left my parking place, than I’d had on my way to church. Not good. But, again, once I was moving, all was well.

Leaving the parking lot, I saw a man stick out his arm as though he was hitch-hiking. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not so I stopped and rolled down the window. I didn’t know him but when he asked for a ride for him and his two friends, I agreed and they piled in. It was so bitterly cold that even short periods outside were uncomfortable without maximum winter wear. After introductions and my reminder to fasten seat belts, we drove off. Their destination wasn’t far away and now I have three new friends.

I’d brought my computer with me to church with the intention of finding a place where I could sit over a cup of tea and do some writing. There’s something about being away from home in a place with lots of large windows that makes writing flow easier. I expected Starbuck’s to be a little dead, given the weather, but the place was so busy there were a number of us looking for non-existent empty tables. Seeing a young man in the beginning stages of packing up his computer, I checked to see if he was leaving and when he so affirmed, I stood on guard, waiting and then settled myself in.

Before I had written more than a few sentences, I saw a senior I’ve known for a few years. She and her friend had come for a cup of coffee but, of course, there was no place to sit. Although my table was tiny, there were two other chairs pulled up to it so I told the ladies that I was busy writing but they were welcome to share my table if they liked. They did! So we had a little chat while they got themselves organised and they let me write while they carried on their own conversation. I enjoyed their company.

The day was full of encounters with God and interacting with those he cares about. By the time I got home, I was flying high with an inner bubbling of joy. I love days like this, sharing a bit of God’s love with those who may not experience a whole lot of it, but it ministered to me too and I finally felt able to gird up my loins, so to speak, and move out of the slump of the previous two weeks. That momentum has continued and I am grateful.

No One Died on This Watch Either

2011-02-01T05:28:00.000-06:00

I have belonged to a number of different online communities. Sometime after yesterday's story, I was in a chat room with a couple friends when another friend joined us. She had been experiencing pain down her left arm most of the day and was worried she might be having a heart attack.

"Go to Emergency!" we told her.

"I can't. My husband thinks I'm making it up and went to bed."

"Drive yourself!"

"I'm too scared."

"Well, call an ambulance!"

"No. My husband would get mad at the cost."

"Is there someone else you can call?"

"I could call my dad, though he's at work."

"Call him!"

When she did, his phone was dead.

After we spent more time discussing her symptoms and how she was unable to get to Emergency, I finally told her that if she didn't find a way to ER soon, I would call 911 myself and send an ambulance to her door.

"You wouldn't!"

"I've called the police before on someone I was chatting with. I don't have a problem calling the ambulance for you.” No one’s dying on my watch, I added to myself.

I gave her some time to think about this as we continued to chat but the girl really needed to see a doctor and soon. Finally one of the other friends phoned the girl’s older sister in another state. After all, I didn’t have enough information to give 911 if I was to call for an ambulance—but the sister would. It took some persuading by Big Sister, by Grandma who was visiting Big Sister and the rest of us but finally she went.

I prayed through the night, whenever I was conscious, “Lord keep her safe! Protect her!”

When I checked my phone the next morning, before I even left my bed, I saw an e-mail from Big Sister. “She has pneumonia in both lungs plus asthma. They admitted her and then later released her to her husband’s care.”

Whew! Thank you God, that we were able to get her to the hospital in time!

Some details of the story have been changed to protect my friend’s identity.

No One's Dying on MY Watch!

2011-01-30T14:42:00.171-06:00

Part 2--a continuation of yesterday's story

I kept in touch with my new friend from yesterday's story. Less than a week after her husband had been arrested, she came online talking about suicide. I know it sounds odd. Hadn't she been freed from her torture? But usually, we don't have just one problem in isolation; rather, when they come, troubles come tied up with other issues. I guess the issues had become so great, even with her husband out of the picture, she saw no room for hope.

It's a scary thing to be told by someone that they're planning to take their life, especially if that person has a plan and she did. She'd already asked her dad to come to get her kids. It was midnight! Wouldn't he wonder? No. She'd told him she was sick.

I know that one thing police do when someone is threatening suicide is to keep the person talking, so that was my goal. I would keep her online, talking, until she could promise me she'd be alive in the morning but she wouldn't make that promise. She kept wanting to leave the computer. I kept insisting that she stay and talk to me: What about the little one you're pregnant with? Can't you call the crisis line What will happen to your other two kids? Who will raise them? Do you really want your husband training your kids to be like him? No, I am not leaving; I'll stay as long as I need to. Your life is more valuable than my sleep. Do you have a plan? I want to hear you talking. I want to know how serious you are about this.

And then her dad came and took the kids. Now she would feel free to go ahead with her plan but I couldn't let her. After consulting with another friend online, I decided to see what I could do to get the local police checking her. But how? I didn't know what city she lived in, though I did have her cell phone number and her full name. Not knowing what else to do, I called my local police and asked their advice. They sent me to the operator. The operator gave me directory assistance for the area code of the cell phone. Directory Assistance was so helpful. They too me very seriously (with everyone I would say, "I'm in Canada, I'm talking to a girl on the Internet who wants to kill herself). He found the police number to call, called it for me and when we got the "press this button and that button" he navigated it all for me and put me through to a real person. The policewoman didn't think that the info I had was enough to go on and then I remembered. They had her husband in custody and I knew his name. They'd have her address that way.

All this time I was continuing to talk to her: There are people who care about you. There are two people who don't even know you who are praying for you right now. (I'd sent an SOS to a couple of friends.) Because they care. Your dad cares. Your kids would miss you. Your mom would miss you. Tell me about your horses! Have you any names for the little one yet to be born?

She thought I wasn't taking her seriously and I was thinking, "Honey, if you only knew how seriously I'm taking you!" Not only did I have two friends praying, but when a third friend came online to chat, I got her to not only pray, but to tell me stories about the trip she'd just returned from. Bless her heart, she told me all the funny stories she could find so that through my tears for my hurting friend, I was laughing at this other friend's adventures.

My friend kept threatening to leave but I held onto her for dear life, intending to stay up all night if I had to. As I waited and prayed for the police to arrive at her door, I continued to engage her in conversation. We even talked on the phone for a while. While on the phone, she told me she had to hang up, someone was banging on her door. "The cops are here!" she exclaimed.

I was so relieved! I thanked God and then hung around my computer to see if she'd come back.

"Did you call the cops?"

"Yes."

"Thanks. What did you tell them?"

"That you were threatening suicide and I was worried. I gave them your name and phone number so they could find you."

"Why didn't you tell me you called?"

"I didn't want you to run from them."

"So is that why you kept me talking?"

"Partly, but I also knew that so long as you were talking to me, you weren't likely to do anything bad to yourself."

I was so drained and exhausted. It was 3:30 a.m. and I'd been ready to sleep at midnight. But I would have stayed up till noon if I'd had to. I was determined that if I had anything to do with it, she would live. Thankfully, she had calmed down and was finally willing to promise to be alive in the morning. She even gave a short, weak little laugh and because she had refused to make the promise before, I chose to believe her.

She Actually Did It!

2011-01-29T14:39:00.001-06:00

She was a stranger in a chat room I frequented, asking questions of faith and evidently very troubled. The answers she was getting were true, but simplistic and not taking into consideration the pain she was in. No one seemed to care about that, so I began to talk to her privately.

"You want to share what's troubling you?"

"An abusive husband."

"Abusive in what way? Physically, verbally, emotionally, sexually?"

"All."

"Can you leave him?"

"I have tried."

"What happens when you try?"

"Last time I tried I got hurt. I haven't attempted in a month or so."

"Hurt how? By him?"

He had caught her at the door and thrown her against the wall.

As she began to unfold the nightmare she was living, I was horrified. I've known these things are done but to come so close to someone experiencing it made all the more real. I was scared for her. No one should live with the stuff she was.

"You need to get out. And soon." The problem is that someone who is repeatedly abused lacks the confidence to do something about it and her very real fear of being hurt worse if she tries and is caught, keeps her trapped. But for my new friend, it wasn't that easy. Her husband had someone following her to work and keeping an eye on her. There was also the problem of her two wee ones.

I began to explore options with her, all the while encouraging her as she cried from the stress she was feeling. "Are you in a small town or a city?"

"City."

"Would you be willing to call the police tomorrow from work and talk to them?"

"Yes."

"Does your employer know what's been going on?"

"Yes."

And so, with much questioning, I devised a plan she seemed to think might work. She would call the police when she got to work the next day, tell them she needed help and ask that they come to her work place because it wasn't safe for her to go to them.

After more encouragement, reminding her that God was with her and promising to pray for her safety until I heard from her again, we said good night.

I heard from her the next night.

"Hey! They arrested hubby today."

"No way! What happened?" That she had actually carried through my suggestion was remarkable. I could hardly believe what she was telling me. The police gave her some options when she called them and because she didn't want to leave her home, they picked her up at work and took her home. Her husband was there and when he saw the police, he threw a fit so they took him away. Yay! Wow! Talk about an answer to prayer! She was free! Thank you, Jesus!

Part 2 tomorrow

Melting Ice and a Life of Thankfulness

2011-01-26T16:01:00.000-06:00

Last Tuesday I encountered someone who made some (wrong) assumptions and treated me as though I had just murdered someone. At least that's the way it felt and I fell apart--for nearly a week. I spent most of Thursday in bed, numb. I spent the evening bawling and came close to calling the Mobile Crisis Unit. I know that sounds like an over-reaction but that's the way it was. Thankfully, Tom saw my pain and did what he could to show he cared. By Saturday evening I wasn't much better so I sent an e-mail to those I know who pray for me asking for prayer. One of the people to respond was my pastor who met with me on Monday to see how he could help. I didn't expect what he said but it makes sense.

He thinks that my grieving for Mikael has been delayed and likened the grief to an ice cube. Because I was already depressed when Mikael died, it's as if the ice cube was dropped in a glass of very cold water, so it's taking extra time to melt. I suggested that the ice cube had landed on a cup of ice instead, which led him to talk about five levels of ice on a river.

Sadness occurs when bad things happen. It forms a thin layer of ice on the river but when the sun comes out, it melts away.
Anger forms a thicker layer of ice.
Self-loathing happens when the anger turns inward or when a person learns that it is not safe to express her anger. At this stage, you can list the things you hate about yourself.
Depression is when the self-loathing becomes so overwhelming you can do longer name all that you hate about yourself.
Numbness takes place when a person has lost her will to live and her ability to care or show emotion. All hope is gone.

Nathan sees me under the fourth layer of ice, chipping at it with a chisel or ice pick to get rid of it and suggested that perhaps melting it would be more effective. How does one do that? I asked. Love. Everyone loves imperfectly and no one person, even a spouse, can provide all the love one needs. He likened relationships or sources of love to wells. When one has plumbed the depths of one well and it can't go deep enough, spread the net wider and dig more wells--or deepen the one you already have.

I told him that I'm afraid of love. I push it away. I don't feel safe with it because I'm afraid it will morph into something unhealthy or immoral or result in rejection. He pointed out that love shows up and feeds us in a variety of ways. It happens not only when I'm in a heart-to-heart conversation with someone else but also at the times I invite the charity canvasser into the house for a few minutes to get out of the cold, take a homeless person for lunch, stop to talk to someone I meet on the street or drive someone home from church.

I think I'm a rather thankful person already but as Nathan described his version of what living a life of thankfulness might look like, my heart leaped and caught fire. Write! he said. Write about the things you're thankful for! Write about the encounters you have, the God-moments that occur in your relationships, whether deep or shallow, the times your heart sings! I can do that. I love to do that. I used to do a lot of it but the last few years have been rather dry. I could even begin to watch for God-moment opportunities or put myself in places where they're more likely to happen, such as going for walks in areas where hurting people move and live and congregate. So I'm going to start sharing these moments--not to brag but to show my gratefulness that God has chosen to use me in some way or has opened my eyes to see things I would otherwise have missed.

I think I have some stories to tell.

New Year's Day Ramblings and Thoughts

2011-01-01T19:48:00.001-06:00

New Year's Day. Outside it is -16C, -28C with the windchill (4F, -18F). My husband bundled up as though it is -79 (cold no matter what measurement you use) and went for a walk. Now he's lit the fireplace beside me and is shuffling platters of Christmas cookies on the coffee table to find room for his acrylic paints. At 3:06 p.m. there is only a bit more than an hour of sunlight left; not that it's all that sunny anyway. It was, but the sky is now aluminum-grey--or maybe it just appears that way to me since I can see only a small swath of sky below the awning of my living room window and above the tall trees and houses across the street. Usually, colder weather means clearer skies, something I love about winter on the Canadian Prairies.

I'm sitting here, in my favourite chair--short enough for my legs and wide enough for the rest of me. It's upholstered with Victorian brocade but my feet are resting on a green, leather-covered backwoods stool with the bark still on the legs and crossbars. From here I can survey my kingdom. The fire behind me to my left, Tom on the couch against the large picture window, still-lit Christmas tree beside him and beyond that, the front entry way. Tom hasn't picked up acrylics for a long time--his medium is usually water-colour--so he's sorting through what he has and getting organised. Pallet on his lap, well-worn tube of black paint being smeared on it, large, insulated grocery bag beside him holding who-knows-what. "May I use your discarded water bottle for my brushes?" Sure. PBAs won't do them any damage.

Aside from the rustling, rattling and sighs from the painting corner, and the gentle crackling of the fire, it's quiet here. We have four sons but none of them are present. Mikael took his life over a year ago and left a huge gap of silence. Konrad got married six weeks later and lives 1000 miles to the west of us. Erik moved 1000 miles east to be with his girlfriend. Mons officially lives here but we've been seeing only glimpses of him as he breezes in for a bit to make a salad for a pot luck, play the piano while his clothes are in the washer or fix a computer, scanner, printer, camera or other electronic device without which we cannot live--though I still can't sync my phone to the laptop. The rest of the time he's presumably with his girlfriend who is on Christmas break from her Master's study of Economics. Mons plans to start his Master's degree in the fall and has applied to all the top schools. We wait eagerly to see who will not only accept him but pay all his expenses while he studies. We live with optimism.

Optimism. It's connected to hope. Paul said that suffering produces perseverance, perseverance character and character hope; and hope does not disappoint us. That's a promise to hold on to. Suffering and hope are inexplicably linked and inseparable. You cannot have one without the other. The more we suffer, the more we have reason to hope--not that we look to increase our suffering, for that would be foolish, but we can look at what suffering we have with optimism and know that as we persevere in the midst of it, trusting God, he uses the sand-laden wind to smooth and shape us and our character. (I wonder if that's why I'm so round instead of angular and bony.)

I said "sand-laden wind" but God calls it fire. Our God is a consuming fire and when we allow ourselves to get close enough to him, the garbage gets burned up. It's what fire does. The cool (or hot) thing is that it doesn't matter how much garbage is in us, God will burn it all up, so long as we stay near to him; and regardless of what is left, little or much, he shapes it into something that will best reflect his brightness, his glory, his being. This is why Paul and Peter could say that they rejoiced in suffering. They knew the joy of being near the fire. Fire hurts. Suffering is painful. It's excruciatingly painful. It is mind-numbingly impossible. Yet, when we are weakest, God's power and strength is greatest.

This is part of God's upside-down kingdom. We move toward the fire to be whole. We die so we can live. We give it all away so we may possess everything. He calls us to the anti-intuitive: turn your cheek, love your enemy, invite to dinner those who can't reciprocate; allow the thief to take your jacket and offer him your new shoes as well; when the Roman soldier demands that you carry his load one mile, or the boss tells you to work overtime without pay, offer to walk two, or to stay even longer. I don't want to do that. Paul says we use weapons that don't conform to the standards of men but have divine power.

I think of my marriage. I have a heap of self-protective walls I've built. I want to be closer to Tom but with every step forward, I push him back. I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll get hurt, scared I'll lose my freedom, terrified I'll be run over and squashed into nothingness. Perhaps what I need to do are the very things that are the scariest. Jesus said we need to take our cross and follow him. What is our cross? The cross is our means of crucifixion, the means of our death, the means of a tortuous death. Can I step into the place of my greatest fears and pain and stay there willingly even if it means I will lose everything? Even if a part of me will die? Even if it kills me? Or feels like it will?

Here I sit, still in my favourite chair four hours after I started writing. The fire is still burning, Tom is still painting, the only thing I can see outside is the neighbour's lit up window surrounded by darkness, the silence is broken by the noisy washer downstairs cleaning me something to wear to church tomorrow. I am tired but at peace. God has given me much to think about.

Scripture referred to:

Romans 5:1-5 perseverance, suffering, hope, rejoicing
Hebrews 12:29 God is a consuming fire
1 Peter 1:6, 7 suffering, refining, rejoicing
Acts 5:41 suffering, rejoicing
Matthew 10:38, 16:24 take cross
Matthew 5-7 upside-down kingdom
2 Corinthians 10:1-4 standards, weapons
2 Corinthians 12:9, 10 weakness

To find more passages on these subjects, go to www.biblestudytools.com and enter a word to search for such as refine, refining or refin*

Cleansed with Blood

2010-12-18T11:01:00.000-06:00

I realise that Christmas is only a week away and blood isn't the usual Christmas topic but this morning in my prayer room I was struck with an insight. One part of my prayer time is with a goblet of grape juice ("wine"), which represents, which is, the blood of Christ. But what does it mean? What am I doing when I drink that cup?

Blood has always been the spiritual cleanser. God accepted Abel's gift of a slain lamb on the altar but did not accept Cain's gift of fresh produce. That gift or more precisely God's acceptance of it cost Abel his life! The patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, all made blood sacrifices or offerings to God. In the days of Moses, that requirement was codified with more specific instructions. Blood sprinkled on people and their clothes was an act of cleansing, purifying, a sign of the covenant that made them a different and separate people from those around them. Today, if we get even a drop of blood on our clothes we wash it out thoroughly but back then, it was a welcome thing--and not just one drop but many.

This was an outward cleansing, a cleansing visible to anyone who saw them. In the days of Jesus, this cleansing had been so highly developed that Jesus criticised the religious leaders of being whitewashed tombs, of cleaning the outside of the cup but leaving the inside dirty. Blood was used to signify cleansing but it was never to be consumed. This was one of the few Old Testament laws that was maintained and reaffirmed at the Jerusalem Council (Acts 15).

And yet, on the night Jesus was betrayed, he told his followers to drink his blood, completely contravening the past, present and future laws. "Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins." (Matthew 26:27, 28 NIV) Jesus was concerned with the inside of a person far more than the outside. Drink my blood! Instead of sprinkling it on your skin and clothes, pour it down inside of you!

The reason for the law against drinking blood was blood is the life of the animal or person (Leviticus 17:10-14). But I would argue that that is precisely why we are to drink the blood of Christ. We drink his blood because we want his life inside us. As we drink his blood, we take into ourselves Jesus' life, his very essence.

And by drinking his blood, we declare ourselves culpable for his death; we declare our need for his blood and thus our need for his death. In North American law, people who benefit directly from a crime are often considered as guilty as those who commit the actual crime. Look at section 212 of the Criminal Code of Canada: "Living off the Avails of Prostitution." It is not the prostitutes themselves that are targeted but the pimps who benefit financially from what the prostitute does (and Marita, if you've made it this far in reading, I'm thinking of the exam you just wrote for the course "Sex and the Law"--have I represented this accurately?). The woman who hires someone to kill her husband to get his life insurance is as guilty as the man who pulls the trigger.

In the same way, I am guilty of the death of Jesus even though I wasn't there shouting, "Crucify him!" or hammering the nails into his hands and feet. Guilty because I come beneath him as he dies on the cross and, with open mouth, catch the blood that falls. Not a drop is to be wasted. That's his life flowing away! But let it flow into me! Let his blood and his life be in me!

Symbols of Mikael's Life--II Bicycle+

2010-11-13T18:42:00.002-06:00

Bicycle and Helmet: Mikael's most common mode of transportation was his bicycle--in all seasons. Those who knew him remember the shorts he would sport even in winter. He'd had a variety of encounters with motorised vehicles but they never stopped him. He figured the most likely way he'd die would be in such a collision and said that if that was the case, he wanted his bike painted white and locked to a pole closest to the accident site. Mikael was never afraid of death. He would rather have had an early demise while living life to the fullest than hold back his passion for living.

On the first day of his cycle-across-Canada trip, he was struck by a vehicle on the highway that sent him into the ditch and damaged his bike. Did that stop him? No! After some long discussions with us, his parents, he set out on the road again. The trip was brutal, with rain many of the days and steep inclines he had to walk up instead of riding. It was after four flat tires in a two-hour period that he finally conceded to go back home.

Ski poles: If you haven`t figured it out by now, Mikael was an avid outdoorsman. When he lived on his own, he lived near the same river we do, downstream a few miles. In the winter, cross-country skiing was one way he`d come home for a visit. He loved the winter and found every means possible to be outside in it as much as he could.

Snowshoes: These were another means of winter transportation down the river and easier to carry once he was out of the deep, soft snow. One winter he took his grandmother winter camping. They hiked for a day on snowshoes, pulling toboggans, and stopped to make a quincy for the night. Unfortunately, it was too warm for the quincy to work properly and so they turned to alternate plans. A year or two later, wanting to prove a point, he set up a small tent in the backyard in the winter, and spent the night in it. I asked him in the morning if he had slept at all. Not really, he said, but he got a lot of reading done!

Rockets: Mikael had a passion for rockets. He experimented with many designs, creating his own and naming one "Dorothy" after his grandma. Once he had a design that worked, he began working on making his own rocket fuel. We have a hole in the cement patio to prove it. When Tom patched the hole, Mikael made sure to write his name and date in the wet cement.

Cross: Mikael's faith in God was an integral part of who he was and he spent a lot of time reading the Bible and journalling his thoughts. When he was in grade nine, his school required each student to spend some time volunteering. He chose to work with the children at church and, once his required time was finished, he carried on for a few more years. The children loved him and he enjoyed them. The year before he got very sick, he became youth pastor, in charge of teens who had once been the toddlers and pre-schoolers he'd spent so much time with previously.

When he decided he wanted to attend a church other than the one he grew up in, he was most drawn to St. Benedict's Table, a Sunday evening church that bills itself as "a worshipping community, rooted in an ancient future," and is rich with liturgies from Christian history. In the end, he chose to attend Christian Family Centre with his dad and was preparing to offer to work with the youth of that church.

His faith was not a blind acceptance of what he was told, but fierce wrestling with what he read and studied. He often had challenging questions and, like the Bereans of the New Testament, searched the Scriptures carefully to see for himself if something was so. He had several Bibles and the one he used in his last year was the Spiritual Formations Bible with notes by various writers from Renovaré.

Symbols of Mikael's Life--I Kayak+

2010-11-13T00:41:00.163-06:00

Oak tree: In the months leading up to his death, Mikael had gone back to university, choosing two courses: Evil in Religion and Death in Religion. Not the best choice for someone who has been suicidal but he was nearly 25 and could make his own decisions despite my concerns. I`m not sure if it was an assignment or something he did on his own, but he wrote out a description of what he`d like his funeral to look like.

One instruction was that he didn`t want a lot of flowers. Instead he wanted trees. Lots of them. That wasn`t too practical but to give a nod to that desire we decided to get one tree that we would later plant in his honour. I chose oak because of my own partiality to it but also because it is a strong, firm tree.

The family to whom Mikael had sent his only two farewells to, went and bought the tree for us and in a small ceremony we planted it in a nearby park (with permission), placing some of his ashes in the hole. The tree is now chemically part Mikael!

Kayak: One day in the spring before he died, Mikael and I were in Costco and wouldn`t you know it, they had a kayak for sale. Mikael was excited because he`d always wanted one and this one was reasonably priced. He didn`t have much money but he was very frugal with what he did have and so we brought it home. The river was still frozen and he could hardly wait until there was water flowing. When the ice did thaw, the river was at flood stage with ice floes. Would Mikael be safe?

The first day he put the kayak on his head and walked about 30 minutes to a swollen creek where he did laps, getting used to the feel of things. He confided that he was actually quite scared of water, so I knew he`d be careful. The second day, before he went on the river, we talked about different possibilities and how would he handle them. He would keep in touch by phone and if I hadn`t heard from him in three hours, I would start looking for him. Each day he went a bit further and exhilarated in his freedom.

One day he called me excited and concerned. He`s just come across a car in the river, only its roof showing. What should he do? Call the police! He was told to stay with the car until rescue units arrived. Four fire trucks arrived with all the firemen standing on the shore trying to figure out what to do. The story made it into the Winnipeg Free press, showing Mikael, the water rescue crew and the submerged vehicle.

The kayak was probably one of the best things that happened to Mikael that spring and summer. It gave him life, energy and the chance to enjoy the outdoors as he loved so much.

Photo: Mikael`s first foray into university was with the School of Music, playing oboe. For all his performances he would need a tuxedo and it`s cheaper to buy than to rent. He loved wearing that suit and looked very dashing in it. Sadly, he had an oboe prof who taught under the principle that the more you brow-beat your students, the better they`ll become. Mikael couldn`t handle the stress of that and so dropped out after first term. Tom bought the tux from him some time later and wore it for his worm-eating stunt at school.

Blanket: This was Mikael`s favourite blanket. I don`t think he used it to sleep with, but curled up in it whenever he was watching tv or movies, or reading a book in the living room. The night he died, this is the blanket I covered him with, wanting to keep him warm as he finally got a good-night`s sleep on the couch.

Paniers: You can`t see the panier in the photo above because it`s wrapped in the blanket. One year Mikael got it in his head that he was going to cycle across Canada by himself. He didn`t have the money to buy the best of equipment and so he looked for ways to save on costs. He decided to make his own paniers. Mikael was an avid sewer from quite young. When he was nine he got a hand-held sewing device for Christmas and had also learned to use my larger machine, making all sorts of things--patchwork quilt and green overalls with bright red buttons are two things I remember him making.

To make his own paniers, he first needed to draw a plan, a pattern. And they had to be waterproof. Murray Tent and Awning was very accomodating and sold him the rubberized fabric, thread, zippers and other notions. Unfortunately, my machine was not strong enough for such heavy fabric, so he borrowed an old, old Singer machine. That didn`t work either. Undaunted, he sewed all four paniers by hand. It was a tough job but he was determined. He was not one to give up easily.

Along the way, we collaborated on ways he could solve particular problems, such as how to attach them to his bike and yet have them easy to remove when he needed to. He used upsidedown brass coat hooks and after the trip (he made it as far as Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario) the paniers continued to serve him as he rode to university or took other trips out of the city.

Lest We Forget

2010-11-11T16:41:00.001-06:00

In Flanders Fields

By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)

Canadian Army

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

A Special Gift on a Special Day

2010-11-11T16:10:00.000-06:00

I have more to write about Mikael but first I want to share something amazing that happened yesterday, the first anniversary of his death.

In the last few days, many have written to me (and Tom) letting me (us) know they are thinking of us, praying for us, giving encouragement, etc. One of these revealed that she too has loss she is struggling with and shared a passage from the Bible that has helped her. She added this: “God has wanted to be the "ONE" for me. … My struggle is how do I feel his arms around me. How can I curl on the sofa with him. Where is the physical presence of a warm, comforting presence.”

I immediately thought of the first time I experienced God’s arms around me. I wrote about it in my book, Searching for Love,” and suggested she read it; but then God told me her need was more immediate so I dug out the digital manuscript to copy and paste and send her that portion. You can find a copy of that here.

Yesterday she wrote back to me. I could hardly believe what I was reading. It was a gift to me, a very special touch from God on the first anniversary of our son’s death. Here is what she wrote (she has given me permission to share this):

Debbie,

I sat down this morning to imagine myself in the lap of God and to say over and over “He loves me”, while I felt His comforting arms around me. Well, of course; things happen to attempt to distract you, or perhaps is God testing you to see if you are totally committed. Some were that I didn't feel well so perhaps this wasn’t the best day. Then it was just another cup of coffee then perhaps I will feel more awake and motivated. Then a friend called. Eventually, it came to either I was going to do it, or I wasn’t. I then thought that 40 minutes was a really long time and maybe I would do it just for 20 minutes. For the first, you know. I might have to work my way into spending 40 minutes alone with my father. Then I became convicted that He wants all of me, not just half. Of course I knew that, but I just wasn’t completely convinced that this was what I needed to do, or that it would work. What was I thinking? Do I believe? Yes, but…

I set my timer and sat in my favourite chair, closed my eyes and started to say in my mind “He loves me.” I found it difficult and my mind would wander to vacuuming, making dinner, my woes, but I would catch myself and continue saying “He loves me.” I could not visualize a face, but I had the body and the hand, and he was dressed in white. The absent face did not matter because I was in his lap with my cheek against his chest looking at his arms around me. Perhaps five or ten minutes into this process some strange things started to happen. My hands became His hands. They gently rubbed and caressed my shoulders, and my fingers gently stroked my forehead and cheeks. Then I heard things in mind “you are wonderfully and perfectly made”, your face is beautiful”, “you are beautiful”. When my mind started to wander I heard “Shhhhh….rest”. This went on for some time.

What happened next was the most astonishing and I was not prepared for it. I have had some medical problems with my stomach, colon, and heart. Some of it quite serious. My hands moved from the gentle touching and caressing of my face and shoulders and I knew that they had become hands of healing and I was to to place both hands on my abdomen and hold them there firmly and believe I was being healed. I did this for quite a long time. I was still saying “he loves me” and I was hearing “trust and believe”. Oh, just writing that brought a tear to my eye.

Next, I felt I was to heal my heart. I’m thinking of the rapid heartbeat and all the things that have caused so much worry and stress. What happened again was most unexpected. My left hand stayed on my abdomen, firmly in place. My right hand went and covered my heart with my fingers spread as wide as they could go. It was like they covered a chasm. As deep cried out to deep, great wracking sobs came from the depth of my soul, but no tears. I couldn’t breathe as the pain and grief was enormous and overwhelming. I kept saying “he loves me” and I heard “Breath”. I knew that I was breathing in God. He was being my breath and giving me new life again. Then it seemed like the hand over my heart was getting bigger until it covered my entire chest. A giant hand over my chest and another hand tightly over my abdomen; wrapped in the arms of God. “He loves me, He loves me” I repeated over and over. Then I heard “Give it to me, let me take it”. I thought I can’t forgive myself and I heard very distinctly “You don’t have to, because I already have. Perfectly. Now let me take it from you.”

There was no conscious decision or thought of giving it over, but just comfort and trust. I felt warm and protected wrapped in the arms of God. A little less than 3 minutes remained, when the workmen arrived and started to bang on the walls, so I thought the moment was gone. I opened my eyes to turn off the timer, and as soon as I opened them, dozens of tears poured down my cheek!! It was like they had all been stored up under my eyelids!! I have never experienced such a weird and strange thing. I did turn off the alarm, but yet my father called me to rest a little longer in his arms. My eyes were closed with my hands pressed to my eyes for maybe about 5 more minutes.

Then I got up to start making my soup, and doing some tidying. I felt refreshed, renewed. Something has changed and I have been transformed. I know it isn’t finished, but something had definitely happened.

She ended by saying how God came “to rescue my shattered self.” See what I mean by a gift from God? What better gift could he have given me than the story of how, through a little thing I wrote, he touched someone so powerfully? God is good.

In God's Arms

2010-11-11T14:25:00.001-06:00

Below are a few paragraphs from my book, Searching for Love, that describe the first time I ever felt God's arms around me. I am currently writing something that will refer to this.

Another friend I was visiting had taken an incredible spiritual journey and I was looking forward to spending time with her. I thought we would spend our two days together talking and we did lots of that, but she had a very busy schedule and invited me to join in her activities. I agreed, wondering what else God had in store for me.

One event was her centring prayer class. She had tried to explain it to me and was, I think, a bit nervous that I might misunderstand or not “get” it. However I had already been introduced to the concept by a friend back home and was intrigued so I was eager to join her class. In fact, the night before, I got so sick with altitude sickness that I became convinced God wanted me at that class and that the enemy was doing all he could to keep me away.

The idea of centring prayer is that, instead of coming to God with questions, requests and other agendas, we come to God merely to be in his presence. Those who promote this form of prayer would never suggest that other forms of prayer should be disregarded; on the contrary. Rather, the simple act of regularly coming into God’s presence for no other reason than to enjoy him can have a life-changing effect on a person. After one session, I agree. It was one of the most incredible experiences I have had!

The leader was somewhat concerned that I might not be able to handle 40 minutes of absolute stillness and quiet. The class was level four and the women had started out slowly months or years before. I figured that at the very least I could spend the time talking with God and concluded that God wanted me there, that he was providing me an opportunity for something about which he’d already been talking to me and I should try it.

I decided that if I was to be in God’s presence (which we always are anyway, there’s nothing we can do to escape being there), I needed a picture in my head of what that looked like. For over a year, I had been trying to imagine what it would be like to be cuddled in God’s lap. I hadn’t been able to do it.

Leanne Payne, in Listening Prayer and other books, talks about the importance of having a holy imagination. I didn’t understand when I first read it. I knew I had a very unholy imagination, one that refused to be reigned in, but in this time of prayer with my friend and her classmates, I experienced something new. I was able to imagine myself sitting on God’s lap, my head pressed against his chest and his enormous arms enveloping me. I spent the entire 40 minutes cuddled up with him like that, gently letting all thoughts but the one phrase, “He loves me,” move through and out of my head without dwelling on them. I think I had a smile on my face the whole time.

I had never experienced anything so incredible in my life. I finally knew what it was like to be loved, treasured, valued, wanted, held; no other arms could give me what he was giving me; no one else could satisfy me as he was; all my imaginations of the past were filthy rags compared with the few minutes I spent in my imagination with God that day. I knew, when it was over, that this was one experience I would repeat often and I have. Oh! What wonderful bliss! As I experienced this time with God, all other experiences and imaginations paled and lost their attractiveness. I could see that as this became an integral part of my life, in a way I had never known before, God would become all for me.

See, I’d known that God’s love was all I needed, that God, in all my needs, was all I needed, but I hadn’t truly believed it because I’d never really experienced it. It is amazing how we can know things in our heads, believe that they are true, and yet not really believe them in a way that makes any difference in the way we act, think or feel.

Honouring Mikael Through the Arts

2010-11-09T17:01:00.000-06:00

Two days after Mikael died, I received the following e-mail from the arts director at church:
"If we (I) can honour your son ANY way thru the arts, please let me know!"

The e-mail was an answer to prayer. I wrote:

Thank you! YES! We need someone artistic to do something and I didn't know who to ask. Your name came to mind but you don't know me! So God obviously told you of our need.

We are cremating Mikael so there won't be a coffin but Mikael loved to kayak and what we decided with Nathan is that we are going to put Mikael's ashes in the kayak. Nathan thought about leaning the kayak against the large cross at the front and somehow securing the kayak so it's safe. My boys are going to take the kayak to the florist (just so they can see it) so they can make a large arrangement to sit in the kayak sitting area. That's sort of the idea BUT...

the kayak leaning against the cross isn't necessary (but nice and we have to tell the florist in the morning what we want--the position of the kayak will determine that). We would love to have someone(s) be creative with some of the things that represent Mikael--definitely his kayak but also, perhaps, other props though we're not sure what.

So, what you could do, if you're willing, is to somehow put these things together for us in some way.

His interests and loves were:

*the outdoors--kayaking, canoing, cycling (even in the winter, in shorts), hiking, snowshoeing, skiing, skating

*he composed sonatas, concertos and other music

*played beautiful oboe

*was writing a novel

*lots of other writing (several blogs)

*intentional misadventures such as exploring abandoned buildings and places he shouldn't have been

*reading (Dante, Alexandre Dumas, Che Guevaro were his favourites)

*gourmet cooking

*he made his own bread, pasta, cheese and even chocolate

*photography--both taking pictures and developing

I'm sleep-deprived and running on fumes--probably will till Sunday--so I'm not thinking too clearly. If you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them.

Is this something you would be interested in doing?

Thank you so much for your offer.

The flowers got nixed but despite the time crunch, Chandra created a lovely arrangement of those possessions of Mikael's that we brought to the church. In following posts I want to use the items in the display as a way to talk about my son and share some of who he was. Below is a photo of the arrangement:

Thank you, Chandra!

Act of Love Provokes Tears

2010-11-09T02:57:00.001-06:00

Wednesday, November 10, is the first anniversary of our son Mikael's passing. There's a post or series of posts (haven't decided which yet) I want to write and tonight, in searching for the photos to match, I came across one (actually several together) that wrenched my stomach and provoked the tears that have seldom flowed since he died: My pastor holding the thin cardboard box containing Mikael's ashes and placing them as we wanted for the funeral.

In the first photo Nathan is talking with my sons Mons and Erik (older brothers to Mikael). He bends to the ground to put the box of ashes inside one of four bicycle paniers Mikael sewed by hand for a cross-Canada biking trip he planned several years ago, ties up the panier, wraps it in Mikael's favourite blanket--the blanket I used to cover him as he was dying, thinking he was finally getting a good night's sleep--and places the package inside the kayak Mikael had used so much the summer he died.

Thank you, Nathan for your act of love.

He Brought Joy to My Soul

2010-11-07T16:06:00.000-06:00

Last week I sent the following prayer request to my church and some friends:

There are nine days before the anniversary of Mikael's death (November 10, the day before Remembrance Day) and Tom and I are having a very hard time, each in different ways. Would you please pray for us? For myself, I am needing more and more sleep as the date draws nearer. I over-react to things, can't concentrate or think clearly and my memory is completely unreliable. Too easily I snap at Tom. Because we're grieving so differently, we're not being terribly good support for each other. I can see why parents who lose a child often end up with broken marriages.

Please pray that this time of pain and tension will draw us closer to each other and to God. Pray that we continue to have hope that we will get past this time. Please pray in whatever way God seems to lead you. We'd be most grateful.

God answers prayer in ways that sometimes boggle the mind.

Last week, around the same time, I discovered the Oslo Gospel Choir. Aside from the fact that pretty much anything Norwegian delights me, the group's singing is beyond outstanding and so I've spent the week finding as many of their songs as possible on YouTube and playing them--over and over again. One in particular stands out: Joy to My Soul:

With all of me I wanna praise him
He has been so mighty, mighty good to me

He brought joy to my soul
That's why I'm praising

The song is fast-paced, lively and so full of joy that I can't stop listening. When I'm not listening, the words keep singing through my mind, "He brought joy to my soul. He brought joy to my soul. He brought joy to my soul." It began to change me. By Wednesday I was feeling happy, cheery, at peace and rest.

When I woke on Thursday I had a compelling desire to spend time in my prayer room. Tucked away in the basement it's a place I've had trouble going to in the last year but it's also a place I love to be once I'm there. Being there felt like the embrace of an Old Friend. I spent the afternoon with another old friend of mine sitting by a sunny window as we spent three hours catching up with each other's lives. It was good. When I came home, I saw I had time for a walk so off I went. Ten minutes after I returned I got to spend a couple hours with my pastor. The day had been full of joy, affirmation, love, sunlight and God's presence.

It's been a long time since I've walked regularly. I few years ago I was walking an hour or more every day and loved it but knee problems changed that and up till now, going outside to walk seemed like the last thing I wanted to do; but when I got up on Friday, the first thing I did was head out for another walk. I'm not walking far and I'm walking very, very slowly but there's something satisfying and healing about doing it. When I got home I went down to my prayer room again. More joy! The rest of the day was full of soaking in God's presence through the music of the Oslo Gospel Choir. Saturday was a repeat of Friday. Three or four good days in a row. Wow!

Church today was the crown of good days. I usually sit for most of the singing because of my knee but today I couldn't. I had to get up. Dare I say it? I had to dance. Lots of people dance in worship while we're singing at church but I'm not a dancer. I would like to be. The graceful movements of those trained classically are full of a beauty I'll never be able to emulate. The boldness of those who dance in styles reminiscent of aboriginal dancing with drumming and bell-laden shawl give me joy at their exuberance but I can't see myself doing the same. Waving flags, large "scarves," ribbons and such is something I could do, maybe, some day, perhaps; and today I was pulled toward finding some prop to help me break my self-imposed barrier against dancing or even moving much in church.

Ha! Physically moving myself in the direction of the props was all I could manage but perhaps that's all God wanted from me because in that new position in the back left corner of the sanctuary I was surrounded by, immersed and bathed in and filled with blessing and love. My church sings for over an hour--an incredible hour of worship--and for nearly that whole time there was one or more people standing with me, praying, putting their hands on me. I wasn't crying--I was too full of joy--but another felt the pain that should have been mine and fell to her knees wailing for my grief. When the pastor called people to come around me to pray, I heard others crying my pain. Still others prayed and one woman I don't even know had a picture for me. Tom and I are on opposite ends of a rope, pulling in opposite directions and there is much tension but in the midst of that tension and pulling away, the knot in the middle, our marriage, is becoming tighter. What a word of hope!

68 hours from now will mark the time we found our son lifeless on the couch--lying in the same awkward position I had observed when, the night before, I covered him with his favourite blanket not wanting to disturb the sleep he was finally getting after days of none, not knowing that this sleep was drug-induced unconsciousness that in a few hours would be death. 68 hours from now marks a year since our lives were irrevocably changed, a son gone forever, an unmendable hole gouged in our hearts. 68 hours from now marks a year of grief, pain and brokenness but it's not hopelessness; it's not despair; it's not an unending darkness. Yes, they have come and will come again. It's one day at a time.

But for today and the several days before, God "has brought joy to my soul. With all of me I want to praise him. He has been so mighty, mighty good to me. He brought joy to my soul; that's why I'm praising."

Listen to the song and see if you can keep from being joyful in the presence of God!

Is Russell Williams Forgiveable?

2010-10-28T17:25:00.000-05:00

"The understandable hatred that was expressed yesterday and that has been palpable throughout the week, has me recognize that most will find it impossible to accept. But the fact is, I very deeply regret what I have done and the harm I know I have caused so many." --Russell Williams the day he was sentenced for two murders, two sexual assaults and 82 break-ins.

"Go join your friend, Paul Bernardo." --Anonymous man in the courtroom

"The depths of the depravity shown by Russell Williams have no equal." --Justice Robert Scott, presiding judge

"I can never, ever, ever forgive him for taking my daughter’s life and taking her away forever.." --Roxanne Lloyd, mother of murder victim Jessica Lloyd

"(He is) pure evil that took her from us." --Andy Lloyd, brother of Jessica Lloyd

"We cannot forgive the affront to all of us and to all that is decent. We long to lance it, like a boil on the world." --Mike Strobel, The Sault Star

“He cannot stand before this court and expect forgiveness. Indeed, from a fundamental and moral perspective, one could debate whether he’s even entitled to ask for forgiveness." --Michael Edelson, attorney for Russell Williams

"If he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times comes back to you and says, 'I repent,' forgive him." --Jesus Christ to his disciples

"I forgive him. It's not up to me. But, yes, I forgive him for what he did to me." --Laurie Massicotte who was sexually assaulted by Russell Williams for two hours in her home."

"Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." --Jesus Christ as he was dying a tortuous death on the cross

"But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins." --Jesus Christ in the Sermon on the Mount

Is Russell Williams forgiveable? Am I? Are you?

We're Not That Different

2010-10-27T15:54:00.000-05:00

It took two days to read the eighty-eight charges against him. A courtroom, the nation and indeed the world watched in disgust, horror and jaw-dropping shock as the secret life of the former commander of Canada's largest air force base unfolded. It seemed unbelievable that Russell Williams, golden boy of the RCAF and one-time pilot for Queen Elizabeth and Canadian Prime Ministers, honoured by all who knew him, could descend into the depravity revealled by his meticulous journalling and the hundreds of photographs he took during his crimes that detailed every step of his actions: 82 counts of break and entry stealing the lingerie of women and girls as young as 12 and staying in their empty bedrooms for as long as two hours, four counts of sexual assault and forceable confinement and the murders of two women.

He has been called "Canada's Bright Shining Lie," "Sexual Sadist," "Sicko," "Psychopath," and "Monster," an aberration from all that is normal. The presiding judge declared that "The depths of the depravity demonstrated by Russell Williams have no equal." All who have followed his story have asked, Why? How could a man in his exalted position be so evil?

As much as we all want to distance ourselves from Williams and what he did, we're not that different. We all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. Romans 1 lists the following:

wickedness
evil
greed
depravity
envy
murder
strife
deceit
malice
gossips
slanderers
God-haters
insolent
arrogant
boastful
inventing ways of evil
disobedient to parents
senseless
faithless
heartless
ruthless

God doesn't seem to differentiate amongst these things. Note how murder and depravity are tucked in amongst greed, envy and strife. Can you look at that list and say none of those words describe you?

We share another likeness to Russell Williams. Justice Robert F. Scott in his sentencing statement said,

"One suspects that he has contained for most of his adult life sexual desires and fetishes. However, in 2007, these inner thoughts began to control his private actions, pushing him deeper and deeper into criminal behaviour, which culminated in the brutal and senseless murders of two innocents."

His crimes came from a thought life out of control. There is a common understanding that what happens in our minds is harmless. But is it? It wasn't for Russell Williams.

Sin is progressive. Once we cross the line from doing what honours God to doing even the smallest thing that does not, we set ourselves up to spiral down. What used to titillate loses its thrill and so we "have to" up the ante. We start with something that seems innocent enough but after a while, it isn't enough so we look for what is more." If a person has no need to operate under the will of God, there is little to stop him or her.

Every thought we entertain (think of setting a table and inviting certain thoughts to sit there with us), every thought we don't dismiss leads us to God or toward being another Russell Williams. There is no middle ground.

What's happening in your thoughts?

QQC: Your Bloody Clothes

2010-09-07T10:43:00.012-05:00

QQCQuirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 24:8

In God's kingdom, blood is an important commodity. We can see this in the New Testament where the blood of Jesus is frequently referred to. In fact, at the Jerusalem Council (Acts 15), of the four Levitical laws Gentiles were required to keep, two were about blood: "abstain from...the meat of strangled animals [if strangled, the animal's blood would stay in the meat] and from blood." (vs. 20)

Blood is a spiritual cleansing agent. Revelation 7:14 says that the survivors of the Great Tribulation will have their clothes "made white in the blood of the Lamb"; Hebrews 9:14 talks about how the blood of Christ cleanses our consciences and Hebrews 9:22 asserts that nearly everything needs to "be cleansed with blood" and that there is no forgiveness without blood.

This helps to explain why, after he had read the Book of the Covenant to God's people at the foot of Mt. Sinai and after the people responded affirmatively that they would do all that the Lord told them, Moses took bowls of blood and "sprinkled it on the people."

Picture this in your mind! The people had all prepared for this day of encounter with God. They had bathed and dressed in their best clothes (Exodus 19:10, 11) and now they were getting blood on their clothes and this was a good thing? Remember how bloodstains are so hard to get out of our clothes? Back then, they didn't have the chemicals we have to help them do so. From this day forward, the clothes they wore on the day they faced God, their best clothes, would be bloodstained--another reminder of their covenant to God and their uniqueness amongst the nations.

We too have been sprinkled with blood--the blood of Jesus Christ. Is it as visible as the blood of bulls sprinkled on the people back then?

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QQC: They Will Be a Snare to You

2010-09-05T09:52:00.015-05:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 23:31, 32

Israel was a nation God created for himself. They were a holy people because they were different, set apart from all other people groups. God wanted them to stay that way. There were a number of things that made them different, separate, holy. For one, they were not to worship the gods of other nations or even have the likenesses of other gods in the country. They had an entire day out of seven in which they relaxed and did no work. When they came to the tabernacle to worship, they turned their backs to the sun--a deity for many peoples--and faced God and his dwelling place. They had rules about what they could and couldn't eat, what they could and couldn't wear, who they could and couldn't have sex with. There were rules about cleanliness, health and relationships.

God wanted his people to stay separate, different, holy and so he warned them sternly, "Do not let them (the people they were to drive out of Canaan) live in your land, or they will cause you to sin against me, because the worship of their gods will certainly be a snare to you." This in fact happened repeatedly throughout Israel's history. They embraced the peoples around them, married them and worshipped their gods. Time and again, God would allow those neighbouring nations to put them under subjection so they could see the difference between God's ways and their ways and, time and again, when the people repented, God sent them a deliverer.

As Christians, we are not a nation in the same sense that Israel was and yet God says through Peter, "But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light." (1 Peter 2:9 NIV) There was no Christian nation at the time. The people who came to Jesus from all nations, were (and are) themselves a nation. As the next verse says, we are aliens and strangers in this world. We are a nation that covers the globe, that has no legal borders or government head, other than Jesus.

So, how does God's instruction to Israel apply to us? How do we keep those not of our nation from living in our land? How do we keep ourselves from turning to the ways of the nations around us and in which we are planted? How do we keep them from being a snare to us? How do we remain "a holy nation, a people belonging to God"?

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QQC--Don't Come Empty-handed!

2010-09-03T09:52:00.003-05:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 23:14, 15

God gave his people three festivals to celebrate each year: Feast of Unleavened Bread, Feast of Harvest and Feast of Ingathering. Each festival was to be celebrated at the place where the tabernacle or temple was located. For most of Isreal's history, that place was Jerusalem. Each time, they were to bring an offering. "No one is to appear before me empty-handed," God told them.

I wonder why. God certainly didn't need any of their gifts or offerings. Later in the Bible he says that he desires mercy, not sacrifice, yet each time the people of God came to the place where he dwelt, they had to bring something with them. Yes, some of what they brought was to help sustain the priests and Levites serving at the tabernacle/temple, but I think God had another purpose in mind as well. Could it be that he was teaching his people to be a generous people? To hold loosely in their hands the things God gave them and to remember that all things--their crops, herds and children--were gifts and blessings from God? Certainly carrying out this instruction kept their focus on God.

What about today? Are we to bring something to God each time we come before him?

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QQC--Love Your Enemies

2010-08-30T14:40:00.001-05:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 23:4, 5

Jesus' teaching on loving our enemies has often been considered revolutionary, compared to the Old Testament but consider the following verses!

"If you come across your enemy's ox or donkey wandering off, be sure to take it back to him. If you see the donkey of someone who hates you fallen down under its load, do not leave it there; be sure you help him with it."

Our God is a God of love and he is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow.

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I Cannot Come

2010-08-29T15:03:00.000-05:00

Dear friend,

It’s taken me a long time to respond to you because I haven’t known quite what to say. Your change in position has unsettled and disturbed me. I would love to believe like you—it’s very tempting—but I can’t. How can I, after all God has done in my life? To say that he honours homosexual union flies in the face of all I’ve lived for the past nine years. It negates all the pain and struggle I have gone through. Why did I engage in the battle if it wasn’t for God?

He is the only reason I’ve made the decisions I have—to fight my same-sex desires, to persevere in my marriage, to relinquish all the love Pearl had to give me (I still miss her). It was to follow God. He made himself very clear time and time again. He gave me insights about himself, about myself and about others. How can I say it wasn’t God? There is no other explanation. But why would God have bothered if he honours and blesses same-sex unions? Would he not, more likely, if that was the case, have blessed and flourished that relationship where I felt most loved and wanted?

If “love, support and help[ing] the other person grow into the best they can be” is how God defines marriage, then the lack of those qualities would be enough to end a union and open the door to one where they are present. That’s not what God has been teaching me. Yes, love, support and helping the other grow is something that God values. It is who God is. He is Love; he is our Support; he is our Helper and Comforter. But God makes it very clear that even when these values are lacking in a relationship we are to persevere. If stability and solidity of union is what makes marriage marriage, then why don’t we all move from partner to partner, male or female, until we find that stability and solidity? The very act of doing so would undermine the very stability and solidity we seek.

You say that homosexuality as a sexual orientation is a relatively new concept and not known in Bible times. If people are born intrinsically homosexual today, why not back then? Has biology changed so fundamentally in several thousand years?

If 1 Corinthians 6:9 has been mistranslated as you suggest, does that mean that some of the other sinful behaviours might also now be allowed and blessed? Does God bless the intrinsically greedy when they engage in greed?

We are ALL intrinsically evil, not because God made us that way but because Adam made that choice for us when he took the fruit from the tree and ate it. He had been intrinsically made to love and enjoy all good things and the fruit of that tree was good. He was doing what came natural to him but it was wrong and that wrong undid the rest of us.

For those who argue that the laws of Leviticus (in which are the most blatant prohibitions against homosexual behaviour) were done away with at the cross, I point out that not all of them were. At the Jerusalem Council that was held to determine how Jewish new Gentile believers were to be, it was decided with the Holy Spirit, that only four things from the old laws should be imposed on the new believers: 1. Abstain from food sacrificed to idols; 2. Abstain from blood; 3. Abstain from the meat of strangled animals and 4. Abstain from sexual immorality (Acts 15, 21). We are still bound by these rules today (and yes, many Christians don’t follow them all).

So then, what is sexual immorality? Can we include homosexual behaviour? I believe that sexual immorality encompasses all the sexual rules given in the books of Moses. How can it be otherwise? How can we say that homosexual behaviour is blessed but union with one’s mom, dad, brother, sister, aunt, uncle or dog is not? It’s all part and parcel of the same thing.

Sin is sin and we are all born with the intrinsical passion to sin. I would love to be told by God that I am free and blessed to pursue union with a woman—to return to Pearl and begin a life with her if she would still have me—but despite all the arguments of the Rev. Mel White and others, I cannot believe that this is God’s plan for me, for you, or for anyone else who longs for or enjoys same-sex union.

As I said, I’ve been wrestling with how to respond to you—indeed, wrestling with what I believe. I had decided yesterday that today would be the day I would write, still unsure of what to say but today in church the worship leader introduced a new song she wrote just this last week:

Give me the heart that does not compromise

Give me the strength to walk in your way

Give me your love to go beyond the comfort.

Peace to stand for what is right,

A hope to see a better way. ( by Jocelyn Armbruster)

Following Jesus is not easy. It means taking up the very thing that will kill us (isn’t that what a cross is?) and going his way. It means persevering in the face of suffering, pain and, yes, of death of many things that seem to us to be innately good for our well-being. It means a heart that does not compromise, a strength to walk in his way, God’s love to go beyond what feels good and comfortable and the willingness and peace to stand for what is right. This is what I choose to do.

I love you, my friend. You have been a mentor and encourager in my walk away from living out my same-sex desires and nothing you say or do can take away from how you blessed me in that time of need. You have been and are my friend. But on this new walk and belief of yours, I cannot come.

May God be with you.

With love and affection,

Debbie

QQC--Defence of Property

2010-08-28T14:24:00.007-05:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 22:2-3

Here is a curious thing. In the rules about protecting property, God allowed the property owner to kill the thief--but only if it happened at night. If it happened after sunrise he was guilty of bloodshed. Why did daylight make a difference?

It wasn't a carte blanche for a thief to steal during the day. He had to make restitution, even if it meant becoming a slave because he had no other means. Stealing certainly didn't pay.

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QQC--Lest Your Nakedness be Exposed

2010-08-26T14:07:00.032-05:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 20:26

In today's modern society, we are bombarded with billboards, tv, videos and other media that often show more skin than they hide. We hardly notice it anymore.

As God was giving Moses instructions on the tabernacle he was to build and the furnishings in it he said, "...do not go up to my altar on steps, lest your nakedness be exposed on it." God is the same today as he was then. He didn't want anyone to see under the long robes the priests wore. Why? Why did he consider this so offensive? Is it still? Does this speak at all to our clothing (or lack thereof) today? How? What is wrong with "nakedness"?

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QQC--Honouring God and Blessings

2010-08-24T13:36:00.004-05:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 20:24

"Wherever I cause my name to be honored, I will come to you and bless you."

God comes to us in places where he is honoured. So, in places where he is not honoured, does he withhold himself and his blessings?

God was referring to the location of the tabernacle and later temple. There has been no temple for nearly 2,000 years. What are the sorts of places where God's name might be honoured today? Where might God's name not honoured? If I am the temple of God* am I a place where God is honoured? Will God come to me and bless me if I am not? How do I honour God? How do I dishonour him? What about you?

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* 1 Corinthians 6:19 and 2 Corinthians 6:16

QQC--Misusing God's Name

2010-08-22T13:20:00.023-05:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 20:7

"You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not hold anyone guiltless who misuses his name."

As a kid, I was taught that this refers to swearing but there are many ways we misuse God's name. What are they?

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QQC--A Perilous Business

2010-08-20T16:27:00.006-05:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 19:10-22

After three months of travelling in the desert, God's people arrived at Mount Sinai, where they would stay an entire year as God gave Moses his laws of relationship with him, with each other, with strangers and even with animals; instructions on how to build a house of worship where his people could come to him and the actual construction of the tabernacle and all it needed to function.

Soon after their arrival to Mt. Sinai, God wanted to meet with his people but there were things they needed to do first: be consecrated by Moses, wash their clothes, abstain from sexual relations and be ready. There was a line around the mountain they could not cross. If even an animal crossed the line, it was to be killed in a way that did not involve crossing the line or touching the animal or person to be killed.

On the big day, there was thunder and lightning. A thick cloud covered the mountain and a loud trumpet blast sounded across the entire camp. The people shook in fear as they began approaching the mountain and what they saw made them tremble even more. The mountain itself was trembling. The trumpet increased in volume and smoke billowed as God descended to the top of the mountain in fire.

Moses went up the mountain and there God told him to warn the people that he, God, would break out against them if they crossed the line. God gave the warning twice. Meeting God was a perilous business!

Hebrews 12:18-29 uses the story above to give the New Testament view of approaching God. It's worth reading.

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QQC--If You Listen

2010-08-18T15:59:00.011-05:00

Quirks, Queries and Commentary—Exodus 15:22-26

The Children of Israel had crossed the Red Sea and celebrated their escape from Pharaoh's clutches but now, after three days of travelling in the desert with no water, they were thirsty. Finally they found water, but it tasted horrid. That's when the grumbling started. "What are we to drink?" they asked.

Moses turned to God. "What are they to drink?" he asked. God showed him a piece of wood and told him to throw it into the bitter waters. Amazingly, it now tasted great.

"There the Lord made a decree and a law for them, and there he tested them. He said, 'If you listen carefully to the voice of the Lord your God and do what is right in his eyes, if you pay attention to his commands and keep all his decrees, I will not bring on you any of the diseases I brought on the Egyptians, for I am the Lord, who heals you.'"

"If you listen." God had a condition to his promise. "I won't treat you like I did the Egyptians, if you listen." The condition was bigger than just listening--they had to listen, do what was right in God's eyes, pay attention to his commands and obey them--but it began with listening.

God still expects and waits for his people to listen to him. This is the key to relationship with God. We must listen. Do you?

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Silence Broken

2010-08-17T15:55:00.001-05:00

There have been months of silence, of not writing here, but perhaps the time for silence is over. My son's death seemed to suck all the energy out of me, both physically and mentally, and for the past many months, about all I've been able to do is sit at my computer and zone out.

We've recently had another major change in our lives. We are now empty nesters. Konrad is in Vancouver as he has been for several years, Mons is currently in Vietnam but plans to spend the coming ten months or so working in China and Erik has moved to the Toronto area to be with his girlfriend.

To move Erik, we removed the benches from our mini-van and loaded it with pretty much all his possessions, including Mikael's iguana and cage. With only two seats left in the van, one of us had to fly. Tom volunteered and left a couple days before Erik and I set out on the road. It was amazing how we fitted everything into the back of the van. I was sure we wouldn't get it all in or, if we did, there'd be no room for my big suitcase but when there was just one more box to put in, the space available was exactly the same size as the box. How's that for fitting? And there was room on top of the boxes for my suitcase. Thank you, God!

Tom and I were gone for over three weeks and it was a glorious time. For the first several days Tom stayed at his brother's south-west of Toronto and I stayed at my sister's east of Toronto. When we came together we had a series of wonderful visits with friends and family. First was at my sister's cottage past Peterborough for the weekend. I used the time to relax and do nothing. Next was a friend we watched grow up over the past thirty years. Her home is fronted with enormous Greek pillars and inside are floors of marble and an indoor swimming pool. I could get used to the pool quite easily. Following that was my cousin in Niagara Falls. I thought we'd stay for a couple of hours but he wanted us to stay for a couple of weeks! We settled on a couple of days and enjoyed the private tour and history lessons he gave of the area. He was disappointed, when we left, that he hadn't had time to show Tom how to make bio-diesel or moonshine.

From there we were off to my other sister's in Michigan. She and her husband have a large home situated on five acres tucked into the woods where no one can see them and they can see no one. A very large pond stocked with fish and turtles sits in the middle of a well-manicured lawn. You couldn't really call it a backyard. It's more like a park complete with places to sit and relax and large play structure for my nephew.

Our next stop was in Indiana. Half and hour before our destination we had a collision on the crowded interstate, people pouring back into Chicago at the end of the weekend. What a blessing that no one was hurt! And a great blessing it happened so close to our friends, who were able to pick us up and let us stay with them until the van was fit for the road again. They were delighted our intended one night turned to three.

A night in a motel and a couple hours of shopping at an outlet centre preceded our last visit in North Dakota with internet friends. What hospitality and grace was shown to us on each step of the journey! What laughter and joy!

I felt revitalised and refreshed and when we got home, instead of collapsing and sleeping for a week to recover, I found myself eager to get things done and the energy to match! What a difference! It's as if the trip made me a new person. And the energy and motivation have continued all week. I'm making meals, sorting through papers, cleaning bathrooms and doing laundry. Oh! And riding my stationary bike--an hour each of the last two days.

But what about my writing? That was yet to fall into place. I believe God had it planned long before I knew it would be needed. I'm at a writers' retreat--planned last fall before Mikael's death. I have been unable to attend the monthly writers' group meetings this last year but I hung on to my determination to attend the retreat. Is this not the perfect time to return to what I so love doing?

And so I write and will continue to write. There are so many things to share and say. It may be slow to begin with and perhaps I'll have more times when the energy is sucked right out of me but now I can see that there's hope. In God's time, he makes all things beautiful in his time.

Is God Good? Really?

2010-05-26T20:50:00.000-05:00

The following was written by Russ Toews, "Mission and Church Extension director for the MB Church of Manitoba. He and [his wife] Sharon live in Winnipeg."

Reflections on a son's suicide

"They kept ringing the door bell, insistently. And I was having such a nice sleep. (Something that would now elude me for months.)

"It was 5:45 a.m., October 6, 2008. Two Winnipeg police officers had come to tell us that our son Brad was dead. All they knew or were willing to say was that it involved a train near Providence College and that he was the only one hurt.

"Four hours later, the RCMP told us the train engineer saw Brad put his head on the tracks, and though the engineer hit the brakes and blew the horn non-stop, Brad did not move. And, Brad had written a letter." Click here to continue the story.

Memoirs of My Great-grandfather James Albert Hirtle

2010-05-26T00:53:00.000-05:00

I was browsing online tonight and found something I submitted online many years ago--the memoirs of my Great-grandfather, James Albert Hirtle. Born in 1866 in Nova Scotia, he wrote his memoirs in 1955. I hope you enjoy. http://www.flora.org/nancy/lunenburg/james-albert-hirtle-1.html

Here's a glossary provided by someone whose name I apparently didn't write down:
Glossary

Billet (noun): A piece of wood cut to a proper length for fuel; billet-wood. A thick stick used as a weapon.

Fitch (noun): A brush made of the hair of a polecat, also, a small hog's-hair brush.

Hornbeam (noun): A tree indigenous in England, so called from its hard, tough, close-grained wood. Also in America the Blue Beech , earlier called hard-beam.

Penstock (noun): A sluice for restraining or regulating the flow from a head of water formed by a pen as in a water-mill. A tube by which water is conveyed from a head of water into a turbine. Also applied to the barrel of a pump.

Pipkin (noun): A small earthenware pot or pan, used chiefly in cookery. Pipkinet, a small pipkin.

Rick (noun): A stack of hay, corn, peas, etc, especially one regularly built and thatched; (verb) To form (hay, corn, etc.) into a rick; to stack.

Swingle (noun): A wooden instrument resembling a sword, used for beating and scraping flax or hemp so as to cleanse it of woody or coarse particles. The striking part or swipple of a flail; (verb) To swing or flourish about. To beat and scrape (flax or hemp) with a swingle, in order to cleanse it of the coarser particles.

With, withs (noun). Also withe, withes: A pliant twig or bough.

Jeremiah's Story of God's Love

2010-05-23T01:58:00.000-05:00

I originally wrote this, quite a few years ago, for a friend who had trouble knowing the depth of God's love for her. Perhaps you are like my friend, uncertain about the faithfulness of God's love for you. Maybe you have a secret fear that if you do something wrong, God withdraws his love. I hope that the following will reassure you that God's love for you never fails and is beyond what any of us can comprehend.

We see the Old Testament as a place full of God's wrath and fail to see how much of a love letter it is to us as a people but also to us as individuals. Yes, it was written to Jacob's descendants but we have been grafted into that tree and so it is written to us as well. I encourage you to look at the verses I refer to. I will not necessarily be quoting. Sometimes it's a quote and sometimes it's a paraphrase or simply a description of what's said.

God starts out talking to Jeremiah but what he says of Jeremiah is true of you as well. "Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you." (1:5) This matches Psalm 139. You are no accident. God knew you then. Some translations use the word "chose". You were chosen, my friend; chosen to do the work for God that he has especially fitted you to do. No one else can do it. Only you.

God lists two sins of the people. They forsook him, the Spring of Living Water, and instead dug their own wells. (2:13) The wells we dig are the places we go instead of going to God to have our needs met, our thirst quenched. So his people sinned. Despite the fact that he had planted them like a choice vine (2:21), they said, "But I love the foreign gods and I MUST go after them. I need them!" (2:25b) I've done that. I can sure identify with those thoughts.

So God punished his people. (2:30) The sad thing is that despite the punishment, they refused to listen. (also 2:30.) The thing is, if God did not love his people, he would have kept them in that punishment. He would have wiped his hands clean and said, "Enough! I'm done with these people!" and that would have been that! God didn't have to take us back when we sinned (notice that I bounce back and forth between Israel and Judah of the Old Testament and us now—to me it's all the same thing). We left him to prostitute ourselves with other lovers, those people and things which we use to take the place of God. (3:1) Judah committed adultery against God and when she came back she didn't come back with all her heart. (3:6-11) Did God reject her in disgust? No!

He begs her to return to him. He promises that if she does, he will frown no more, he is merciful, he still considers himself her husband, he will give the people shepherds after his own heart. (3:12-18) This is the act of a lover, not a hater. God mourns that though he wants to treat his people as sons, giving them the most beautiful inheritance, they reject him. (3:19) He begs them again to return to him (3:22) and again (4:1).

And then disaster comes. It looks like God hates them and yet he is willing to save the entire city if only one honest person can be found. (5:1) Yes, he punishes but he also protects his beloved in the midst of the punishment (5:10b), he refuses to completely destroy her (5:18), he still considers her beautiful and delicate (6:2), he shows her where she can find rest for her soul (6:16), he invites her to reform and he will let the people stay in Judah (7:3, 5-7), he calls again and again (7:13) and he even listens attentively to them, hoping they would turn (8:6). These are the actions of a lover who, though scorned, continues to love.

He mourns that they have provoked him to do what he must. He is crushed! He mourns that there is no healing for his people. (8:19b-22) Why? Because he loves them. We don't mourn the loss of what we don't love. Yes, it is true that God curses those who don't keep his covenant (11:3) but he continues, even in the midst of his declarations of anger and retribution, to give them all he has promised IF only they will turn to him. (11:4b-5) It's still not too late.

Despite saying he'll bring disaster she cannot escape (11:11), he calls her "My Beloved!" (11:15) He calls her "The one I love!" (12:7) He loves her so much that after he has uprooted her and sent her away, kind of like the Tough Love that some encourage, he promises to have compassion and bring them back. (12:15) His eyes overflow with tears night and day over the grievous wound and crushing blow dealt his people. (14:17) There is no reason to explain this except his incredible love for his bride!

Yes, he will throw his people out of their land (16:13) but he promises to restore them back to their land. (16:14-15) This is not a permanent punishment. A child sent to her room because she has misbehaved may think that her parents never want to see her again but this is not so. A friend of mine has had her husband forcibly removed from their home because of his drunkenness. She loves him and misses him and longs for him to get his act together so that they can be together again. He, being on the painful side of this form of love, thinks he's been rejected by his wife. Not so. And so it is with God. He loves us so much that he disciplines us for our good (Hebrews 12:5, 6) so that he can resume a loving relationship with us.

God shows the curse (17:5,6) but he also shows the blessing (17:7-8). He had previously said there were no righteous in Judah and yet he still offers the blessing. The blessing is for those who turn from wrong and once again trust God. He is offering these blessings to prostitute Judah if she turns from her lovers. Why? Because he is still enamoured and in love with her. And with you and me. God can and does change his mind. He may announce the destruction of a nation, but if it repents, then he will relent (18:7,8). Ninevah is another example of this. Yes, he was planning destruction to Judah but he still preferred that she repent. (18:11)

And then Nebuchadnezzar attacks. (21:2) Yes, God is going to be fighting against the very people he loves (21:5) but he continues to offer life! Those who surrender to Nebuchadnezzar will live, even though the city will be destroyed. (21:5) This is not the picture of a raging, angry, unloving God, but the God who loves passionately and wants to spare his loved one from the consequences of her choices.

He offers to save the palace if the king will start to do justice (22:1-5). He loves his people so much that he will bring them back to be fruitful and multiply; he promises to give shepherds who will tend them so they won't be afraid or missing; he promises Jesus, a Righteous Branch, a king who will reign wisely and do justice; he promises safety in their own land. (23:3-8)

The crown prince, the officials, craftsmen and artisans are taken in exile to Babylon. (24:1) And what does God do? He promises to watch over the exiles for their good! He will bring them back to their land; he will build them up, not tear them down, he will plant them, not uproot them; he will give them a heart to know him and they will return to him. (24:4-7) He also promised that the exile would last only so long—70 years—and then he would punish Judah's enemy for how it treated her. (25:12)

Over and over again, he pleads with the people to obey him, to follow him. He promises that there will be no disaster if they do. (26:13) He begs the people to obey Nebuchadnezzar so they will live (27:12-13). Why would he want them to live except that he loves them so very, very much?

There is a passage in Jeremiah that most people know but they forget the context. See, that's the whole point about Jeremiah (and other prophets too). We can see the depth of God's love for us because he is not a fair-weather lover. He doesn't just love us when everything is fine. He loves us in the midst of our rebellion, disobedience, adultery and prostitution. The exiles are in Babylon, the place of their captivity, the home of their enemy (chapter 29) and it is in this context that God promises to return them to their home at the end of 70 years (29:10) and that he has plans to prosper them and not to harm them, he has plans to give them hope and a future. (29:11) It is in the midst of their most shameful place, the visible sign of their unfaithfulness to God, that he gives them one of his most wonderful promises, a promise we believers today cling to with hope. He has plans to prosper them, to give them hope and a future. Imagine! And then (not before, mind you, but after) they will call upon him and come to him and he will listen (29:12). His plans to bring them good were not formulated after they came to him in repentance. His plans were made while they were still in sin. In the midst of their unfaithfulness to God, he made plans to prosper them. In the midst of your unfaithfulness to God, he is making plans to prosper you, my friend. You will find him when you seek him, this incredible Lover of you, with all your heart. (29:13,14) Isn't it amazing?

He promises again to restore his people to their land (30:1-3). He promises to break the yoke off their necks and the bonds off their legs and arms. He promises that they will serve Jesus (David their king who is already long dead). (30:8-9) He encourages us with all the love he can muster, "Don't be afraid! Don't be dismayed! I will surely save you out of the place of exile. You will have security and no fear. I am with you. I will not completely destroy you. (30:10-11) I will restore you to health. I will heal your wounds (v.17), I will restore your fortunes! (30:18) You will sing songs of thanksgiving and rejoicing. I will increase your numbers and bring you honour. (30:19) Your community will be established before God (29:20), your leader and ruler will be one of you, not a foreigner (like Nebuchadnezzar). I will bring your ruler close to me. (29:21) You will be my people and I will be your God. (30:22) God is saying these things to his unrepentant people, my friends. Talk about love!

The survivors will find favour. God will come and give rest. (31:2) He says, "I have loved you with an everlasting love. I have drawn you with loving kindness." (31:3) In the midst of their rebellion, unrepentance and exile, God is drawing the people to him, wooing them out of the deep love and passion he has for them. You know, it is THIS God who loved the world so much he gave his one and only Son so that we could live instead of perish. His love didn't start in the New Testament. His love began the day he began to consider making humans even though, being God and knowing all things, he knew how rebellious and unfaithful we would be.

He promises to build up again, the people he has destroyed. They will be so full of joy they will take up their tambourines and dance! (31:4) They will plant vineyards and enjoy the wine (31:5) and so much more. I stopped here because chapter 31 is so full of God's love. You can read it for yourself and see the love God has for his disobedient, rebellious, adulterous bride. It's an awesome story!

I ended here because there is so MUCH of God's love in chapter 31 and also because I spent nearly 3 hours writing and needed a break. I can assure you that God's love didn't end at that chapter!

Blessings of Mother's Day

2010-05-09T22:08:00.001-05:00

I didn't think Mother's Day was going to be a problem for me until I started reading online greetings this morning from people who remembered this would be my first Mother's Day without all four sons. Then I got a bit teary.

A migraine had been trying to set up residence since early last evening and was threatening to keep me home from church, but perhaps going to a place that's saturated with prayer would help. Besides, where better to be on a special, bittersweet day than church?

We have a prayer meeting before the service each week and for me, this time is the best part of church. I was late because I stopped to help a young woman struggling to walk with with four enormous loads of laundry so prayer was already happening when I walked through the door. The first words I heard were, "the mothers who mourn." Perfect timing! All were silent as I found a place to sit and then Nathan continued his prayer, praying specifically for me. Ken came, laid his hand on my shoulder and continued the prayer after the Nathan was done. What a blessed way to start church!

As I walked out to mingle with those arriving for the service, I was given many hugs. To be loved is such a sweet, sweet gift. Jessie chose to sit with me and when Nathan led us in prayer for all the moms present and represented there, she laid her hand on me and prayed for me. Bonnie said that many others had their hands stretched out towards me as they prayed for me from their seats. What a gift! Jessie, thank you for sitting with me. Thank you to all who prayed.

The service was beautiful, with nine babies being dedicated to God, each one surrounded by parents, siblings and whomever of their extended family could attend, followed by four women who shared their understanding of God's maternal characteristics. It began to be personal for me as the worship band came back to sing and play for prayer ministry time:

You are so good to me
You heal my broken heart
You are my Father in heaven

Yes! God, my Father in heaven is immensely good to me and who but him can heal a broken heart? What a blessing it is to belong to him!

While we were still singing that last song, Christina, a young woman friend, came and handed me a small box. Inside was a little keepsake box from the Willow Tree line with a mother and baby carved on the outside. Along with the gift, Christina gave me several long hugs, not wanting to let go. How blessed is that?

Michael came, sat beside me, put his arm around me and blessed me. I don't know Michael very well, we've only spoken a couple of times but he often comes to the pre-service prayer meeting and operates the sound system at church. He was the one who took care of sound at Mikael's funeral so I guess that's our connection. Guys aren't always so good at this sort of thing and I usually have low expectations of men so this was an incredible blessing.

And then there was Raymond--Raymond with the long, tangled hair, roughly-shaven beard, stocking hat perpetually on his head and diction that makes him difficult to understand. He lives in the church neighbourhood and has kind of "adopted" me. He came and sat beside me, just to chat.

and chat.

and chat.

and chat. So sweet.

Back home, my mom came by to give me flowers for Mother's Day! It's supposed to be the other way around (but I did have a gift ready for her). While she was here, my family gave me other gifts: a Willow Tree figurine of a mother holding a young son from Tom and a whole horde of high-end chocolate from Mons. I can maybe have a piece or two in the morning if I get up really early, but not every day or it will keep me awake at night, so I think I now have enough for several months. Yay! Oh, and the Mother's Day card Tom and the boys gave me was absolutely perfect--a pop-up, 3-D card of waterlilies and dragonflies! So beautiful! Here's what they wrote.

You are the best Mom in the world. When the boys were growing up, you virtually raised them up by yourself. See how each of them turned out? I thank you and God bless. Love, Tom

Mom, you blessed me with life, love, joy, success and everything I am today (bad handwriting included*). You are the best and only mother I could hope for and I will never forget your hard work, love and dedication in raising us boys. Love you, Mom--your son Mons.

I have a bunch of words that describe for me what you mean to me. They may seem generic, but each one comes from a specific memory of you; there isn't much room! Great advice, loving, supportive, encouraging, attentive. You're the kind of parent that I want to be one day. We should spend more time together. I love you lots! Erik

Konrad phoned from Vancouver.

I'm sitting here now, full of Olive Garden's minestrone soup, bread sticks, cheese ravioli and zeppoli. It's been a wonderful Mother's Day and I am so very blessed. Thank you, God!

p.s. The migraine was gone by the time church was over.
* I taught him GOOD handwriting

Know How to Give, Lose and Acquire

2010-04-23T14:55:00.000-05:00

"Guard well within yourself that treasure: kindness. Know how to give without hesitation, how to lose without regret, how to acquire without meanness." George Sand

Prayer Summit: Grieving

2010-03-26T00:30:00.000-05:00

The final session of the prayer summit (I’ve skipped over two) was a celebration. “Precious Bridegroom, we want to dance with you tonight,” the leader prayed. “You lead and we will follow.” For me, it was a time to grieve.

Standing near me at the back of the room was a young mother with what looked like four small boys. Since I raised four sons I felt an affinity with her. You should pray for her, I heard God say, but that felt awkward. Surely I could pray for her and her sons quietly without her even knowing. No. Go to her. It was a fight to do so, but finally I went up to her and told her I too had four sons. Could I pray for her and the boys? Yes, I could. And so I did.

After I sat back down, the prayer that kept repeating in my thoughts was, “Don’t let her have to bury any of her sons. Keep them alive. Let them all outlive her, God!” The pain was great but it only prompted me to continue repeating my prayer.

The thought came to me that I should ask one of the women there who had come from my church to pray with me but it felt awkward and it meant leaving my seat at the back and walking closer to the front where they were sitting. I didn’t really want to do it—I have a hard time asking for help—so I argued with God. Surely I could wait till after the session was done. No. Do it now. Sigh.

I’m glad I did. Three of them came to where I was sitting at the back and began to pray with their hands laid on me. Sometimes their prayers were audible and sometimes they weren’t. I was wracked with sobbing. Sometimes my cries were loud, though the band covered the sound; sometimes my cries were silent, but all parts of my body were sobbing regardless of sound, my mouth frozen into open contortion.

I wish I remembered what the women said and prayed. One reminded me that God is keeping my tears in a bottle. She prayed that the bits of grief I let out would stay out and gone.

I cried out, I want to hold my son. I want to hold my son! I don’t want him dead. He should be living. Jesus, please hold my son for me. Take care of him for me.

I thought of Mary, the mother of Jesus. She too buried her son. But he rose again and because of that we will rise. By his power God raised the Lord from the dead, and he will raise us also. (1 Corinthians 6:14 NIV) Mikael will rise. Mary’s grief was our blessing. Because of what caused her grief, we are healed. “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.” (1 Peter 2:24 NIV) These are hopeful truths.

It was good to cry and embrace the grief. I seem unable to most of the time.

Before the women returned to their seats and joined the larger group again, we had a group hug and they covered me with a large blue cloth telling me it represents life. I stayed swaddled in it for a long time.

Another thought came to me. I need to pray for those four sons of the woman near me—doing so will be part of my healing—so I went back to her and asked for their names. I wrote them in the front of the Bible I had with me and will pray for them till they are grown. May God save their mother from the grief I’ve experienced!

I turned back to what was happening around me and was able to enter into the praise:

I cry out,
For Your hand of mercy to heal me.
I am weak,
I need Your love to free me....

For You are good.

--Eric Myers

The Lord is gracious and compassionate...

He has compassion on all he has made...

Praise the Lord, oh my soul!

--Graham Ord

Creator God you gave me breath so I could praise...

So let my whole life be a blazing offering...

Glory to God, Glory to God

Glory to God forever.

--Steve Fee

The prayer summit ended with this admonition: “Don’t let the fire go out. The way you do that is practice the spiritual disciplines.” It’s the only way to live—letting the fire of God burn in us at all times.

Prayer Summit: Intimate Love

2010-03-25T20:30:00.000-05:00

If I felt urged to do anything during the third session of the prayer summit, it was to move to the back of the gymnasium where we were meeting. I seem often to prefer being at the back at church and similar meetings but is that an escape? A way to observe instead of participate? Why this urge? Perhaps it’s because at the back I feel freer to be me and do what I’m moved to do, without feeling like I’m on display.

Am I more of an observer than a participant? If I am, is that bad? If I am, am I missing out? Or is my sitting in the back and writing another way to connect with God that’s as valid as dancing and painting? For me, it’s a way to sit in God’s presence and simply be with him and I need that.

Oh Lord, you're beautiful,

Your face is all I seek,

For when your eyes are on this child,

Your grace abounds to me.

--D. Cleaveland and Keith Green

Come live in freedom here...

Come see with spirit eyes

Come see

The door is open...

His arms are open

--Michael W. Smith

See the love in his eyes

God’s arms are open and I can sit in his embrace.

Once again Ruth, the leader, stood up. After about 45 minutes of silence, what emerged was a call to intimacy and to persevere in intimacy—particularly for the men: intimacy in knowing the Lord, knowing their wives, knowing their kids.

Men stay in intimacy only so long, she said, to meet their own needs and then they leave. But men are to model intimacy. The restoration of our family and our nation rests on the shoulders of men. Love your wife as Jesus loves the church. Men need to stay in the place of intimacy for our families and churches. Sustaining intimacy is vital—with the Lord, our mates and our churches.

Oh God! This is what Tom needs to hear. Oh God! He needs this. I need him to need and want it. Intimacy from and with Tom is what our marriage needs.

I'm giving you my heart, and all that is within...

I'm giving you my dreams, I'm laying down my rights...

And I surrender all to you, all to you

--Marc James

This is my prayer. In (unknowing) answer to that prayer, Tom sent me an-email a couple of days later, suggesting a plan by which we could come closer and bring healing to our marriage. Isn’t God good?

Prayer Summit: Love Has Won the Victory

2010-03-25T16:26:00.000-05:00

The second and third sessions were personally significant for me but, at first, I felt like an outsider as I watched those who were freer in expressing their prayers with movement.

A short, thick, older woman with whom I identified was dancing with two scarves enthusiastically and with abandon. If she could do this, so could I. But I didn’t.

A young, lithe woman had wrapped the long length of blue chiffon over her. She was dancing with passion and beauty. Unwrapping it, she held it with both hands, letting it flow with her wildly-moving arms.

An older man knelt on the floor waving a brown chiffon flag vigorously from side to side.

The first woman placed a long, yellowish green chiffon over the back of her neck, draping it down her arms to her hands. She wrapped it around herself.

You are the God Who saves us, worthy of all our praises...
Come have Your way among us
We welcome You here, Lord Jesus
'Cause when we see You, we find strength to face the day

--Paul Baloche

A line of dancers, including two men, paraded up the centre aisle, each with a scarf. At the front they formed a circle, first with a woman in a wheelchair waving scarves and then encircling that woman and praying over her. Still in the circle, they tied long, thin scarves on their wrists, connecting them together. With hands raised, they moved around the wheelchair. Another woman slipped through the circle and waved her sticked streamer over the wheelchair.

Worthy is the, Lamb who was slain
Holy, Holy, is He

--Kari Jobe

Still tied together, the circle of dancers knelt. Hands together, they invited more of God on themselves.

Holy, Holy, Holy
Is the Lord God Almighty
Who was, and is, and is to come

--Kari Jobe

I moved to the back wall of the room and saw that others were dancing behind the rows of chairs. One young woman moved her arms and body as if she was climbing a thick rope. Her movements were exquisite and as the weekend progressed I enjoyed watching her dance her prayers.

More love, more power

More of You in my life.

--Jeff Deyo

A short little woman stood near me singing harmonies that reminded me of the soprano’s high notes in Phantom of the Opera. Was she two octaves above my alto?

The dancing circle at the front was standing, hands on each others’ shoulders, praying.

Burn in me, burn in me,

Let the fire of the Holy One burn in me

--Jerry Holman

The circle broke up and each dancer chose two scarves, the colours of fire. Their arm movements were reminiscent of those holding the ropes in Double Dutch skipping. As more people joined the dancers or did their own thing, I remembered David, dancing as he led the ark into Jerusalem or like the people before and around Jesus during his triumphal entry into the same city.

The leader spoke from the front. As though she was using the voice of Jesus, she repeated over and over, “Don’t you know I love you?”

He is jealous for me,...

Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us all

--David Crowder

An older couple stood up and began to dance, body to body, like the first dance of the bridal couple at a wedding. Every movement of theirs exuded the love of a lifetime of intimacy.

Two two women danced together, body against body, one behind the other, arms of the one behind wrapped around the one before, head on her shoulder, then shifting to face and embrace each other, a long pink scarf wrapped around them, big smiles on their faces.

The two pairs danced and for me they represented the love I’ve longed for—one in the closeness of marriage and the other with another woman (the two girls were not dancing with any romance but I imposed that on them with my thoughts). I asked myself the question I’ve asked many times before: “Which do I want? Which do I want to be like? God, I want a love like this!”

Jesus has overcome
And the grave is overwhelmed
The victory is won... [victory for our marriage and me]
And I hear the cry of every longing heart [God hears the cry of my longing heart]

No more sorrow, no more pain [can it be?]

I will rise [God, I need to rise from the despair of my marriage]

--Chris Tomlin [italics in brackets my thoughts as we sang]

This was God’s answer to me. The victory has been won. There will be no more sorrow and pain. I will rise. I won’t stay in the pit and the pain. God, can I really believe this? I need this healing, the healing in my marriage.

What is a Prayer Summit?

2010-03-25T09:57:00.001-05:00

I didn’t have a clue but I love anything to do with prayer and remembered the reports about it last year. I had to go.

The purpose seems to be to listen to hear what God has to say to the Church—local and national, Vineyard and others. It’s been an annual event for the Vineyard churches in the Canadian Prairies (Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Alberta) for the past five years and has been held in a variety of places in each province. This year about a hundred people met at Bethel Lutheran Church in Sherwood Park, Alberta, a small city very close to Edmonton, coming from not only the prairie Vineyard churches but from British Columbia and New Brunswick as well.

The Church is the bride of Christ so, at the front of the room, was a (very chaste) bridal gown on a dress form with combat boots on the floor against the gown. Being the bride of Christ is about intimacy with God—not fuzzy feelings but about taking up our cross and following him; about interceding to him for others. Our God is a consuming fire and he is purifying his bride, exposing sins.

We spent two days from 9:30 a.m. till about 9:30 praying, with breaks for lunch and dinner. We were led in worship and prayer by a musical band. We started off singing songs that were directed to God:

You are the hope living in us

You are the rock in whom we trust

You are the light shining for all the world to see

--Brian Doerksen

Jesus you are mercy, Jesus you are justice

Jesus you are worthy that is what you are

you died alone to save me, your rose so you could raise me

you did this all to make me a chosen child of God

--Brenton Brown

You’re the God of this city...

There is no one like our God

For greater things have yet to come

And greater things are still to be done

In this city

--Chris Tomlin

Then the band would focus on one sentence or phrase from the song that God seemed to be leading them to such as, from the Chris Tomlin song above, “There is no one like our God,” and sing it over and over, helping us to meditate on that one truth and let it sink into us deeply.

From there, the band would stop singing and play instruments only—allowing our thoughts and prayers to go where God led them—and/or improvise with words: singing Scripture or extemporaneously praising God and praying to him.

At the same time, the rest of us were doing a variety of things: singing, dancing with or without props, painting, kneeling, bowing down in one’s chair, writing what God was saying and showing and so on—all focussed on listening to God to hear what he had to say and praying back to him what he was putting on our hearts.

Much of the time I felt more like an observer than a participant. Let me share what I saw and heard during the first session.

I sat near the front where I could watch the dancers. A large pile of rectangular, chiffon scarves of varying sizes had been provided and some of the women were using these to express their prayers.

At one point, a group of them were sitting on the floor in a circle, moving the scarves back and forth in front of them. It made me think of the pool at Bethesda (John 5) and how people would wait for the waters to be stirred. It was at the stirring of the waters that people were healed. I thought, “God is stirring the waters among us this weekend.”

The women stood up with blue and yellow scarves, lifting one, very long, carpet-runner-sized blue “scarf” up and down like billows. More people joined them, including a man and they faced the rest of us in a row, lifting the scarf up and down. Another woman was dancing alone with no props. The group with the long blue scarf stilled their arms, letting the fabric hang down and began to encircle the lone dancer and then spiralled in, tighter and tighter, until they were gathered in a tight cluster. Someone else carrying a flag (chiffon fabric attached to a wooden dowel) walked around the cluster, waving the flag over them. More people picked up flags and joined the first flag-bearer.

None of this, or any of the dancing, was rehearsed or planned ahead. It was a group expression of what they were hearing and seeing from God.

As I watched, it occurred to me that the dance cluster represented unity amongst the churches, with the flags representing the angels celebrating the unity and blessing it. The flags and their bearers were the protection of God.

At this time we were singing:

Come, let us return unto the Lord...

He will come to us like rain, spring rain

If we ask, He will come

Send His rain on everyone

--Kevin Prosch

The cluster dropped the blue cloth and raised their hands as they unwound into a circle with hands joined and raised. Breaking their handholds, they raised their hands and moved them repetitively towards their faces as if they were trying to get more of the falling rain. The circle broke, leaving the one man dancing alone.

Ingratitude and the Bronze Snake

2010-03-13T10:59:00.000-06:00

I’m trying to return to my daily times with God in my prayer room. One of the things I do when I’m here is read Psalm 139. At the very end of the chapter, David asks God to see if there is any offensive way in him. Today it occurred to me to ask God, “In what way is my attitude towards Tom and my relationship with Tom offensive to you?” It’s a question that I haven’t quite pondered in the same way and at first I couldn’t think of an answer so, rather than manufacture one, I continued on in my time with God. This is the fourth week of Lent and so I turned to the Lenten passages of Scripture for today.

In the first passage, Numbers 21:4-9, we find the story of the bronze snake. The people were complaining about what God was doing and accused him of bringing them into the desert to die. In fact, he had brought them there so they could live! They complained that they had nothing to eat when God had kept them nourished with manna. They eschewed the manna and hated this provision of God.

Then it hit me. I do the same thing. God gave me Tom as my husband and I complain about him. I rebel against the way he treats me instead of being grateful for the provision he makes for me. I continue to long for Pearl, just as the Israelites longed to return to Egypt. In essence, I’ve been telling God that I do not like what he has done for me. This is the offensive way in me—my ingratitude to God for giving me Tom and for who Tom is.

God’s response to Israel’s complaining was to send poisonous snakes among them. He brought them pain and death because of their ingratitude. But in the midst of the pain and death, all they had to do was look at the snake and they were healed. All they had to do was look. What consequences has God brought me because of my ingratitude? And yet, regardless of the consequences, the cure is the same—look to Jesus. All I have to do is look and I will be healed.

Psalm 32:6 reads, “...let all the godly pray to you while there is still time, that they may not drown in the floodwaters of judgment.” The assumption here is that the godly have sinned but that by praying, they are protected from the consequences of that sin while the wicked are not. The godly can go to Jesus for protection but the wicked don’t have that option*. When I look to God, he will guide me, advise me and watch over me (verse 8).

The first part of this Psalm is a declaration of what happens when we look up to Jesus when we have sinned, such as with my ingratitude. When I hold onto my rebellion to God, such as not being grateful for the husband he gave me, I will be weak and in pain (verse 3). I will waste away. Joy and strength are what come to those who confess their sin (verses 4, 10, 11).

I have been wrong to complain about Tom. I have been wrong to focus on the negative things about Tom and my marriage to him, instead of being grateful for the good. My need to feel loved can be filled by going to Jesus and basking in his embrace.

In John 3:4-21, Jesus is talking to Nicodemus: “...as Moses lifted up the bronze snake on a pole in the desert, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him will have eternal life.” (verse 14) We just look to Jesus with expectancy. That’s it! The expectancy is the faith, belief and certainty that doing so will produce results. How do I look to Jesus? I read his Word, I talk to him, I sit in his presence. All who do this—looking to Jesus with expectancy—won’t be judged (verse 18) because they are thus exposing themselves to the light (verse 19-21). Salvation comes by looking to and being in the Light.

Finally, in Ephesians 2:1-10, we see that salvation is a gift: “God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God.” (verse 8)

Having confessed my sin of ingratitude, I come to Jesus with the expectancy that he will forgive me (1 John 1:9). I spend time with him, soaking in his presence and bathing in the light, and begin to look for all the ways I can show my gratitude and thankfulness for what he has done, is doing and will do.

Lord Jesus, please teach me how to be grateful to you even when everything isn’t the way I’d prefer.

*Note: That isn’t to say that the wicked can’t go to Jesus, because God will accept all who confess their sins and believe in Jesus. Perhaps the godly have more immediate access to God? I think that’s the implication of this passage.

Turkish Genocide of Armenians

2010-03-06T02:07:00.001-06:00

U.S. panel backs Armenian genocide declaration

A U.S. congressional panel has approved a resolution declaring the Ottoman-era killing of Armenians genocide.

In Turkey, the government said it was recalling its ambassador from Washington in response.

Read more.

This news story is of great importance to me because of some research I did about ten to twelve years ago. I was writing a children's book proposal for an educational publisher in Maine. The intent of the book was to use the alphabet to highlight 26 people groups that aren't well known. A is for Armenia.

I loved my research on the Armenians--a people I knew little about. In reading every book and every website I could find on the country and the people, I grew to love them. They have suffered much because of their refusal to turn away from Christianity and embrace Islam, beginning a thousand years ago when the Turkic people began to pour out of Central Asia, conquering much as they moved west and eventually settling into the country we now call Turkey.

Armenia was the first nation in the world to declare itself Christian. The apostle, Bartholomew, is credited with evangelising the country. The people point their origins back to Noah who landed his ark on Mt. Ararat after the flood. Until the 20th century, Mt. Ararat was a central part of Armenia and continues to be a huge emblem to them of their identity and history. It was the genocide and the actions surrounding it that changed the country's borders.

The land called Armenia today is only a tenth of what Armenia was, prior to World War I. At that time, Armenia was a nation that took up much of what is referred to as Anatolia--a broad band of land along the Mediterranean Sea and the eastern part of current-day Turkey.

When the Turks invaded the land back around 1000, they were brutal to the Armenian people and through the ages they continued brutality against them. This news article mentions 1915 as the date of the genocide but truthfully, it began sooner and ended later.

Was it really genocide? The Turks maintain it was not. Yet Adolphe Hitler, on the eve of his invasion of Poland, specifically referred to the Armenian genocide and declared that since the world did not rise up to stop the Turks, it would not try to stop him either. The Armenian genocide was his justification for the Jewish genocide. No one would care.

No one cared what was happening to the Armenians in 1915 and the surrounding years. Back then, Turkey was key to the needs of the Allied forces and access to the Middle East through Turkey was considered essential; far more important than saving the lives of men, women and children. Hitler's gas chambers would have been preferable to what happened to the Armenians: Women and children forced to march through the desert for weeks with no food or water and when they tried to drink even the urine of the horses they were whipped or shot and killed; men were scourged on the bottoms of their feet and then made to walk long distances; children sold to make them into "good Muslims"; people forced off the edges of high cliffs en masse; mothers forced to watch their children being brutalised; women crucified naked on crosses for all to gawke at; communities locked into their churches, which were then burned down with them in it. These are the things I remember without looking back at my research. It was a foul, foul time. Ninety percent of the Armenian people were annihilated and the remainder forced onto a tiny plot of land that doesn't even contain their beloved Mt. Ararat.

One man, I believe he was the American ambassador to Turkey at the time, saw what was happening and tried to inform his government, but they refused to believe him and, in the end, he was recalled home. It is time the American government and other governments acknowledge the wrong that was done to the Armenian people and I applaud the resolution that has been approved. Turkey has done all it can to suppress the knowledge of the genocide and, in my research, I discovered there were Turks in the US who were afraid for their lives because they acknowledged the genocide in contradiction to Turkish government.

I do not believe that the pressing "need" for Turkey to remain an ally is greater than the need to recognise and denounce the crime of that nation nearly 100 years ago. As Hitler took his example from Turkey, the Turkish government should now take the example of the German people who, after World War II, not only admitted what had been done to the Jews and others but tried to make what restitution they could.

I pray that as this current resolution moves to the full House and beyond, there will be determination to once and for all admit the truth of what Turkey did to the Armenian people.

Abraham's Bosom, Saints under the Altar, Resurrection

2010-03-03T01:29:00.000-06:00

My husband handed me a question last week that someone had given to him. He was hoping I could answer it for him. I've spent two or three hours working on the answer, so I decided I'd share my response here as well.

Q: If the dead who died and believed in God (Old Testament) which the Bible refers to as Abraham’s bosom, are they the saints under the altar that Revelation talks about? If so, did Christ bring them to heaven after his resurrection or while he was in the pit?

Abraham’s bosom = Heaven / Paradise

There is only one passage that talks about “Abraham’s bosom,” and that is in Jesus’ parable in Luke 16 and not in all translations. In the New International Version, Luke 16:23 says that Lazarus (a man in a parable, not the brother of Mary and Martha) was “by his side,” meaning beside Abraham’s side.

To see how all the different translations word this, go to:

http://www.biblestudytools.com/luke/16-23-compare.html

The idea of a dead person being “in Abraham’s bosom,” or “by his side,” is simply another way of saying “in heaven.” In this parable, the beggar had made it to heaven but the rich man who had refused to help the beggar when they were both living was in hell.

In the Old Testament, the concept of going to heaven or hell when one dies was commonly believed. This is why Jesus was able to say: “I say to you that many will come from the east and the west, and will take their places at the feast with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven,” (Matthew 8:11) and his listeners understood what he was talking about.

Saints Under the Altar = Martyrs

Revelation 6:9-11 NIV

“When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain because of the word of God and the testimony they had maintained. They called out in a loud voice, "How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?" Then each of them was given a white robe, and they were told to wait a little longer, until the number of their fellow servants and brothers who were to be killed as they had been was completed.”

Those under the altar didn’t die from natural causes or disease. Neither did they die as the result of accidents. These people were dead because of God’s Word and because they had maintained their testimony. In other words, those under the altar are a select group of people—those who have been martyred for their faith.

Based on Hebrews 11, we know there were many martyrs in the Old Testament times. From history we know there were many martyrs during the ages from the time of Jesus until now. These are those whose souls are under the altar. If the pastor died in a car crash tomorrow, he would go to heaven, but he wouldn’t be under the altar.

Christ in the Pit = He Preached

There is very little said in the Bible of what Jesus did during the three days of death.

1 Peter 3:18-20 is the only place that talks about it:

“He was put to death in the body but made alive by the Spirit, through whom also he went and preached to the spirits in prison who disobeyed long ago when God waited patiently in the days of Noah while the ark was being built.” (NIV)

This passage says nothing about Jesus bringing anyone to heaven. He just went to preach. We’re not told what the results were.

Bring them to Heaven after his Resurrection?

There is Ephesians 4:8-10 that could be interpreted to suggest Jesus took people to heaven with him after his resurrection, but there is nothing else in the New Testament to corroborate that view:

“This is why it says: "When he ascended on high, he led captives in his train and gave gifts to men." (What does "he ascended" mean except that he also descended to the lower, earthly regions ? He who descended is the very one who ascended higher than all the heavens, in order to fill the whole universe.)” (NIV)

Notice that those he led when he ascended on high were captives. That means they weren’t willing participants. That doesn’t speak to me of righteous people going to heaven with Jesus.

Furthermore, when Luke describes Jesus going up to heaven in Acts 1, there is no mention of anyone going with him.

When Jesus died, tombs were opened and many who were dead were raised again to life but there is no mention of them going to heaven ahead of anyone else. Matthew 27:51-53 NIV:

“At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook and the rocks split. The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs, and after Jesus' resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many people.”

Christ Brings them to Heaven

The common Christian belief about what happens when a person dies is that the bodies stay in the ground and the souls/spirits go to Heaven or to Hell (or Purgatory according to Roman Catholics). It is not until Jesus’ Second Coming that the bodies of those who died will be raised. Here are some verses to look at:

Of course we know that Jesus said to the thief on the cross, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” Luke 23:43 NIV

1 Corinthians 15:20-24 NIV

“But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man. For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive. But each in his own turn: Christ, the firstfruits; then, when he comes, those who belong to him. Then the end will come, when he hands over the kingdom to God the Father after he has destroyed all dominion, authority and power.

In other words, Christ was the first to experience resurrection, so when he comes again (see the promise in Acts 1), those who belong to him will also be raised from the dead.

2 Timothy 2:11, 12 promises:

“If we died with him [Jesus], we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him.”

1 Thessalonians 4:14-17

“We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord's own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever.”

This puts the time of the resurrection at the time of Jesus returning to earth as described in Acts 1.

From what I know of the Bible (and I’ve read it through many times) and specifically from the verses above, I would say that the souls of the righteous go to heaven at the time of death, regardless of whether they died before Jesus or after Jesus. Otherwise, why would “Abraham’s bosom” be used to describe the place of paradise?

And if Abraham was there before Jesus died (see the first verse above), then why not the others who were righteous before Jesus died? And if the thief on the cross was going to be in Paradise the same day as Jesus, it stands to reason that so will all others who have been made righteous by Jesus’ blood—whether they are martyrs or not. Our bodies will follow later, according to the verses quoted above.

If you have more questions, please feel free to ask.

debbiehaughland@gmail.com

Never Say Die by Douglas Hsu

2010-02-26T19:11:00.000-06:00

Never Say Die is the story of David Yone Mo, once "Burma's most reckless gangster," who, when supernaturally cured of his drug addictions "on his hospital deathbed," becomes Myanmar's most fearless preacher and evangelist.

The story is an amazing one as David stumbles into one ministry after another--helping men beat their drug addictions, leading them into the kingdom of God, opening his home to orphans and eventually building an orphanage, travelling around the country promoting Jesus and abstinence from drugs, working with lepers, opening a Bible college and even developing a musical band that reached number one status on the secular charts.

"...ex-alcoholics and ex-drug addicts made the boldest, most fearless and most sacrificial preachers. ...they understood at a deep level how wicked and sinful they were." They were the ones most willing to trek through hostile and dangerous jungle to reach isolated people for Jesus. They often stayed in the villages to work as pastors, even if they were untrained.

David's rule was that those reaching out to others had to demonstrate their love by accepting what was offered to them, no questions asked. They were fed some very strange things, even by Asian standards, and endeared themselves to the people. David himself was tested on this stance when he was served his first meal by a leper. She handled the food with her hands. Was it safe? Would he get leprosy if he ate it?

It's a challenging story of a man driven to reach out to those people no other Christians wanted to help, sold out to Jesus without compromise. What if we all had the passion he had?

Imprisoned in Iran: Love's Victory over Fear by Dan Baumann

2010-02-25T17:34:00.002-06:00

Dan Baumann is a YWAM (Youth with a Mission) missionary in Turkmenistan, born and raised in America but holding a Swiss passport. When he has an opportunity to visit Iran with the hope of finding additional Turkmen to witness to, he runs into obstacles that eventually land him in Iran's most infamous prison--a place from which few leave.

He has a choice to make when he is arrested and questioned. Will he be honest about his reasons for visiting Iran? He knows that doing so could seal his death. But because of his honesty, unexpected things happen.

Duane Litfin, president of Wheaton College writes, "Dan Baumann's harrowing experiences in Iran were the stuff of nightmares. Yet his is a story of faith and courage, and of God's protection. This detailed account has the power to encourage many in the midst of their own trouble to abandon themselves, as Dan did, to the providential care of the Lord."

I hope I could be as courageous as the author if I ever faced the sort of thing he did.

Secret Believers by Brother Andrew

2010-02-24T17:34:00.001-06:00

I've been devouring books lately and have made my way through a number of those I bought at Missionfest earlier this month. The most recent book I've finished is Secret Believers: What Happens when Muslims Believe in Christ by Brother Andrew and Al Janssen.

It's tricky talking about Christian believers in Muslim countries because the Muslim extremists are very good at tracking down who they think the stories are about and responding in cruelty--even when they have guessed wrong. Brother Andrew's solution to this problem is to tell true stories and actual events, but creating fictional characters in a country, city and towns that remain unnamed. He's done an excellent job. I could hardly put the book down.

What are some of the problems Christian believers have in the Muslim world? There are three distinct groups of Christians to consider: indigenous people who have been Christians since the apostles first took the Gospel to their countries 2000 years ago, ex-patriots living in the Muslim countries and believers who converted from Islam. For all groups, the situation is dangerous, first for the Muslim-born believers, then for the indigenous Christians and finally for the ex-pats.

Even if the laws of the land state equality for all religions and the country may have signed the Geneva Treaty about human rights, sharia law usually takes precedent. Often the police ignore blatant abuse and murder of Christians or they're complicit and aid the process. The situation is so bad that churches have been known to refuse entrance to Muslim seekers or newly-converted Christians. It's too dangerous for both the church and the Muslim.

But then, what is the mission of the Church in these nations? Is it merely to maintain the status quo? Does the danger keep them from fulfilling the Great Commission? And if so, what are the implications?

We follow several characters in the book:

Ahmed was part of the Islamic Brotherhood when he was asked to write a book to show the error of Christianity. His reading of the Bible changed his thoughts and he becomes a Christian.

Abuna is a priest who turns Muslim seekers away but then is challenged to reconsider how best to serve his congregation and God.

Butros studied in England. He is looked at with suspicion by the Christian pastors he returns home to serve and by the Muslims.

Layla is a Christian teen who is kidnapped and forced to become Muslim.

Kareem is a highly-placed government official who has discovered Jesus and committed to him on his own. Any contact with known Christians places him in grave danger but he also has influence and power if he can use it carefully.

Hassan and Mustafa become believers because of Ahmed's determination to find those Muslims seeking Jesus.

In addition to demonstrating the real problems, issues and dangers Christians face, Secret Believers shows what speaks loudest to antagonistic Muslims.

At the end of the story, several chapters speak directly to the Christian believer. What have we as a Church done to show Christ to Muslims? When they look at the western nations that are supposedly Christian, do they see Christ? What can we do, corporately and individually to change their perceptions and win more Muslims to Christ? I've been challenged and know I must keep the book at hand so I can be reminded of what I have been convicted.

Joy and Protection

2010-02-11T15:52:00.000-06:00

While I was praying this morning, a couple of things jumped out at me.

My prayer room, which I have been using for a number of years, has many symbols I use as reminders of what I want to pray and I've created a meaningful ritual as I move from object to object, touch it with my hand and give thanks to God or make a request of him. Of these symbols, the crown of thorns and the water fountain were what stirred up some realizations.

With the crown of thorns I pray, "God, give me joy and gladness in the midst of suffering and pain." That prayer is based on Jesus' admonition, "Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you." As I prayed this today, it hit me! Perhaps one of the reasons I have responded the way I have to my son's death is because God has been answering my prayer. Not that Mikael's death is persecution in any way but Paul and Peter talk about how we share in the sufferings of Christ.

With the water fountain I pray, "You are the Fountain of Life. You are the Living Water. Thank you for providing stepping stones of safety and protection during impossible times. This references a picture God gave me over a year ago during a time of prayer--how during some very difficult and painful times of my life, God provided oases, places of refuge in time of trouble, havens of safety. As I was praying this morning, I remembered what a friend had written me earlier in the day: "Your sleeping helps to protect you right now Deb." Yes! Another stepping stone in rough waters, an oasis in an arid land. God is protecting me.

I might have missed these gifts from God if I hadn't been praying. I wonder what sorts of things we do miss out on because we haven't prayed.

God, thank you for caring about our needs and listening to our prayers. Thank you for answering mine.