Philippians and Thanksgiving Holiday

Philippians 1:3 "Every time I think of you, I give thanks to my God."

I recently returned from visiting my family in Arkansas. My heart is tender and warm thinking about my time with these special people.

Michael and Lawana got the ball rolling getting me down there. When Michael learned that Stacie would be in Arkansas for the holidays, he phoned my dad and my mom to see if they'd join him in paying my way down. Each of them bought a ticket, allowing Rachael, Hannah and me to go. Not only did Michael and Lawana buy a ticket, they also carried most of the work and financial burden of the Thanksgiving meal. Michael made a turkey, ham, pork loin and a brisket. Lawana made vegetables, dressing, and desserts. On different days they took us out for supper. They treated us like royalty while we were there. Truly I was very touched by their kindness and generosity, over and over and over.

Stacie and her family joined us in Arkansas. They were only there for a couple days, but our time together was good. Stacie and Jimmy have 4 great kids and they are such joy to be around. They're helpful, gentle and kind. Stacie is a best friend and always great fun to be around.

Diane is another best friend. She gave me lots to laugh about and we enjoyed hours of great converation.

Christopher. I didn't have any alone time with him, but once the festivities were passed and the crowds started thinning, I saw Christopher's tender, gentle side again. How his gentleness blesses me.

Stephanie. Pretty as always, it was good to see how marriage and pregnancy are agreeing with her. She's about 7 weeks along and still feeling pretty well.

Misty, my niece. A bundle of energy and captivating personality, she entertained me for hours, making me laugh over and over.

Jeff, my nephew in "transition." He too gave me plenty to laugh about.

CJ, another nephew. I love his affection and am happy I got to see him, as I didn't see him my last visit down.

Mindi, my niece that is most like me, always warms my heart and gives me plenty to laugh about. A few days away from delivering Baby #3, she was physically lethargic, but her great personality was alive and well.

Amy another niece. Nothing about Amy ever reminded me of myself until this visit. A new mom, I saw clearly how motherhood had changed her. Baby Jocelyn altered her life much the same that Stephanie's altered mine. I loved watching her and Salomom so connected to each other and to Baby Jocelyn. I was pleased to see how motherhood and wifehood fit her so well.

Daddy. Always the tightwad, I was very blessed by his contribution to getting us down there. It was the first time in my adult life to benefit from his generosity. Thanksgiving Day was clearly a blessing to him and I loved seeing him excited and happy.

Mom and Pabob. Unfortunately they got stuck with picking us up and delivering us back to DFW. I know that was a hassle of enormous proportion, so I'm thankful they rose to the occasion. (And I promise to never fly into DFW again.) Mama worked hard cooking for our Thanksgiving meal too and it was her idea to rent the community hall. And did that ever improve the day.

On my last day there, Mama, Memaw and I were involved in a car accident. It was one of those that easily could have been much worse. I'm thankful for getting off as easily as we did. Poor Mama got the worse deal, a broken foot that has to have surgery next week. I'm sorry about her foot, but thankful to God that she and Memaw are alive.

As I read Philippians 1:3 this morning, I thought of all the above people and how they blessed us last week. I sincerely thank God for all of them and for the joy they gave me in Arkansas and give me in life just by knowing they exist.

Philippians 1:7,8 "It is right that I should feel as I do about all of you, for you have a very special place in my heart... God knows how much I love you and long for you with the tender compassion of Christ Jesus." My thoughts precisely!

The Boll Weevil

In 1915 the Mexican boll weevil invaded Alabama destroying 60% of the cotton crop --the livelihood-- of southeast Alabama. Farmers faced financial ruin and the community economy was at stake.

Desperate for a crop that would withstand the boll weevil, farmers turned to peanuts and were rewarded with unexpected prosperity.

The citizens recognized that what at first appeared as tragedy, the destruction of their cotton crops, was instead the best thing possible for their economy. In gratitude they erected a monument to the boll weevil. In Enterprise, Alabama the monument still stands and its inscription reads: "In profound appreciation of the boll weevil and what it has done as the herald of prosperity..."

When I read the story of the boll weevil monument, I was reminded of two things. 1) All things are working together for my good, and 2) what is intended to harm me, God will use for good. (Romans 8:28 and Genesis 50:20)

Comforting Imaginings

We had a tough weekend, mostly Hannah and me. Every time I sliced cheese I looked down at my feet expecting to see little Frodo waiting patiently for his treat, his tail swishing excitedly on the floor. He had such a gentlemanly way of waiting for his treats.

When I walked through the backdoor, I was painfully jarred with reality when he wasn't there to greet me with his two-step forward, two-step backward gig.

He hadn't yet outgrown dribbling when excited. It was a source of annoyance to me. But yesterday I saw a dribble stain on the sofa throw and I smiled. I called Hannah to show her and we said in unison, "that's so sweet."

Today I've not cried. My source of comfort is imagining Frodo in heaven. I've even been rationalizing my thoughts: The wolf and the lamb live in peace, but where do these animals come from? Did God make "heavenly animals" and earthly animals"? Are they, the animals in heaven, animals that have lived on earth?

I know that animals don't have souls, but I think of heaven as a place for animals too. Not for a second do I equate animals with humans, but I think animals will be there.

I was comforted this weekend imagining Frodo running secure and carefree through heavenly meadows, looking over his shoulders seeing if his playmates are gaining on him - just like he played with Lucy.

I also imagined arriving in heaven and embracing all the special people there; family, friends, people who played a spiritual role in my life, people who may have been influenced by me. I pictured myself making my way through a throng of people and when I hugged the last person, looking down and seeing my Frodo doing his bashful two-step forward, two-step backward gig. I smile, comforted, even as I write this.

I know my thoughts aren't backed by scripture, but please play along, at least temporarily. If I'm wrong, God will correct soon enough. So for now, I'll just keep imaging our little guy having the time of his life romping with Booper, Bumpie, Dakota, Buford, and every other dog I ever loved.

Tom Fox

The body of a peace-loving American activist has been found in Iraq. Tom Fox died for what he believed was right. I so admire that and so want to be that committed. He wrote a paper before he went to Iraq saying: "But if Jesus and Gandhi are right, then I am asked to risk my life, and if I lose it, to be as forgiving as they were when murdered by the forces of Satan."

Fox's friend, John Surr, said Fox felt his calling in Iraq was worth the potential risk. "He was willing to go in there at all costs."

"At all cost." I want to be that committed. May God help me.

2005's Blessings

This is the time of year where we look back and say, "wow, where did all the time go?" It's a reflective time and hopefully a time where we can see the hand of God in some of the circumstances and events of the previous year. Yesterday during community prayer at church, a lady prayed something like "our God in heaven who dances and laughs over the good things in our lives." I really don't remember her exact words, but it was a beautiful picture in my mind.

I like to imagine that God laughed and danced many times in 2005 because of good things in my family. My 2005 highlights are these:

- Stephanie's wedding. Stephanie married a kind man who, along with her, is striving to be a follower of Jesus. John Mark comes from a good family and has watched his mom and dad interact lovingly all his life. I believe God prepared them for each other their whole lives and I know God has good things in mind for them. Their wedding and reception were beautiful and I think they'll have great memories for years to come.

- Trip to Arkansas. Gordon and I got away without children for the first time ever. I would have loved to take the girls to Arkansas for the wedding, but as some observant person once said, "money doesn't grow on trees." Anyway, Gordon and I had a wonderful time, just the 2 of us. I buy a new Christmas ornament every year that captures something special regarding our year. 2005's special ornament is 2 moose in bed together. It's symbolic of our trip away together.

- I don't actually recall if it happened in 2004 or 2005, but I've reconnected with my dear aunt (Jill) via Instant Messenger. She gives me lots to think about, is a wonderful sounding board, and makes me laugh hysterically.

- Frodo. Frodo, Hannah's new puppy, brings a new element of joy to us. I have shown the girls several times Revelation 3:11, "for His pleasure all things were created." Our dogs make me smile often and it's special for me to think that God smiles (laughs and dances?) with us at the dogs antics. After all, He created them for His pleasure.

- Pier 1. In October, I celebrated (actually "celebrated" is WAY too strong) my first year anniversary at Pier 1. I haven't worked in years, but when Deborah started school, I took a part time job. My job doesn't pay much, but the hours are amazingly tailored to me. I'm thankful for that.

- Christopher's visit in the summer. Christopher gave me loads of laughter in the summer. I enjoyed him immensely. He was wonderful company and an awesome addition to the family while he was here.

- My Hysterectomy. Many things in life should remain "untalked" about. Suffice it to say, I am happy to have it all behind me. I'm thankful for modern medicine.

Perhaps I'll add to the list as things occur to me. 2005 was a good year and I say thank you to God for that.

All Things Work Together

Salty tears,
Bitter remorse.
All things work together.

Deepest valleys,
Darkest nights.
All things work together.

Mournful memories,
Unresolving guilt.
All things work together.

Tangled thoughts,
Disjointed emotions.
All things work together.

For my good,
Yes, my good.
All things work together.

Last night I read this latest poem of mine to Gordon. He let me finish and then said, "One of your lighter little ditties, eh?" He is so funny.

I Must Tell Jesus

In so many of our churches, the battle rages: hymns or choruses. I personally love both. Does that make me a well-balanced person? :-) Anyway, I grew up with hymns and personally appreciate the good theology many of them proclaim, although I went through years of hating them. I have come full circle and now commonly experience the need to sing hymns or even think hymns as a form of prayer and intercession.

I play the piano sort of like I sew. I sew minimally and I play the piano minimally. If it can be played in the key of C, I can make a pretty good stab at it. When my heart is heavy, I often am drawn to the piano and I play this song over and over. God knows my heart and it seems playing this hymn over and over is a type of prayer. Sometimes I can't pray. At times like those, I often find myself at the piano playing "I Must Tell Jesus."

I must tell Jesus all of my trials,
I cannot bear these burdens alone;
In my distress He kindly will help me,
He ever loves and cares for His own.

I must tell Jesus! I must tell Jesus!
I cannot bear my burdens alone;
I Must tell Jesus! I must tell Jesus!
Jesus can help me, Jesus alone.

Tempted and tried, I need a great Savior,
One who can help my burdens to bear;
I must tell Jesus, I must tell Jesus,
He all my cares and sorrows will share.

O how the world to evil allures me!
O how my heart is tempted to sin!
I must tell Jesus, and He will help me
Over the world the victory to win.

It's been a piano playing kind of day. Can anyone identify with me here?

The Light

I sit in silence
The ticking of the clock is the only distraction
The fir tree in the corner lights the darkness with delicate intrusion

"He is your light," they say
"He lights the way"
"His light drives the darkness away."

His light is His gift to me.
My gift to Him? Receive His light.
Let Him light my dark path.

He is in my darkness.
Only in darkness can I experience
the the dawning of a new day.

Only by dying can I be resurrected.

Fingernails

In keeping with my latest theme of church and of writing thoughts down so they can be congealed in my head, I will share another unclear thought.

I have paper thin nails and usually cut them once a week to keep from tearing them and living with pain from a too short nail. For Stephanie's wedding, I pampered my nails with strengthener and grew them longer. For me, they were long. I got somewhat obsessed with them because the strengthener peels off so cool-like. I love to tear it off trying to get it off in one peel. I find this very entertaining. During this time of digit pampering, I've become quite acquainted with my nails.

I noted an interesting thing. Every single nail has an indention in it straight across, right in the middle. Because I'm easily amused with the simple things in life, I showed it to Gordon and we discussed when I might have had a change in my diet or something like that to create this indention.

I decided it was the hysterectomy and I saw a wonderful parable in this. My hands and fingernails were not directly involved in my hysterectomy, yet because that are a part of my body, they were affected. They suffered "trauma" through my surgery and now that trauma is visible.

I thought of the passages in Romans and 1 Corinthians about if one part of the body of Christ suffers, every part suffers. Through my fingernail, I understood this teaching better. I was impressed.

Whether I notice or not I am bearing the markings of the pain of my brothers and sisters. And likewise, they are bearing the marks of my sufferings.

I'm sure I didn't say it too well, but there is a lesson for me in my fingernails.

Church According to Little House on the Prairie

William Faulkner said something to the effect that he couldn't know his own thoughts clearly until he had written them. I can identify with that thought. Therefore I shall try to work through some of my thoughts, in writing.

Recently my church has been through a difficult time. Our pastor (and good friend) resigned under less than ideal circumstances. Over the past couple years a number of wonderful people have left. What I use to consider a vibrant, alive church now seems dry, and even lonely.The spirit of love and concern for each other is very strong. I love these people. We are like a family. However, my own excitement for going to church is gone.

When I was in Arkansas, I saw little churches dotted throughout the countryside. They were simple, white, old church buildings. They reminded me of my grandmother's church when I was growing up. I was impressed by their simplicity and wondered what their services were like.

I thought of the church services on Little House on the Prairie. By our standards today, church on Little House on the Prairie was dry and stale. But the essentials were there; praise, prayer, teaching/exhortation, and love and care for one another. There were no programs.

As I drove past these country churches, I knew they each one had their problems, but wondered if they were closer to the target than our more polished churches. (Certainly they are closer to the Little House on the Prairie model.) Perhaps we've complicated things with our programs and our technology.

This morning before others arrived, I sat in my church sanctuary praying. I felt discouraged and lonely. So many friends no longer attend church with us. Our music can be pretty rugged, whereas it used to be full and alive. There are few programs left that my family can participate in. As I thought about these things, I recalled again how they did church on Little House on the Prairie. I remembered the commitment of the people to be there; I remembered their participation in un-glamorous song; I remembered the sermons by the un-dynamic pastor.

Two times now, the Little House on the Prairie model has come to mind. Could it be that God was speaking to me? Henry Blackaby said that any encounter with truth is an encounter with God. Could God be leading me in these Little House on the Prairie memories?

This morning after my thoughts on Little House on the Prairie, I lowered my standard and tried to be a congregant like the congregants on Little House on the Prairie. It helped. I prayed, I sang.

So I lay out my Little House of the Prairie thoughts to you, dear reader. What do you think about the Little House on the Prairie model of doing church?

Nature and the Present

In 1875 John Muir asked "what is the human's part in the mountain's destiny?" I read that question last night and took a little bit of time to think about it. I remembered what Wordsworth said, "Let nature be your teacher," and Psalm 19, "The heavens tell of the glory of God." I suppose everyone could have a different answer for John Muir's question, but for me, the answer is simple. Nature can teach me about and point me to the glory of God. I very much desire to be a good student in God's classroom of nature.

Annie Dillard wrote, "I have experienced the present purely through my senses." The "present" has much to offer. Right now, I'm at my picnic table enjoying the birds, the sunshine, the trees. This is my favorite way to begin a day. My trusty coffee mug, Bible, notebook, and most of all, an attitude of quiet and stillness to capture the present. My greatest enemy during my morning quiet time is getting caught up thinking about the work that needs to be done out here; the garage needs paint, the garden has weeds, the grass needs mowing, the feeders need bird seed. It is a constant mind battle to train myself to refocus when I start thinking about those things instead of what God wants to show me in His creation.

I'm nearly 40. I so regret that I didn't learn to appreciate nature with all my senses 20-30 years ago. But unfortunately this lesson is a relatively new one to me.

Every thing I love about nature, I realize now, is grace. Anything "grace" is undeserved, unearned, and unmerited. Grace is "bonus." All the birds have a different song. That's grace. God could have easily given them no song or made them all have the same song. I'm thankful for the gift of grace in the songs of the birds.

In bloom in my garden right now are yellow day lilies, purple cornflower, white irises, deep pink peonies. God chose to give us multiple colors to enjoy. That's grace.

Psalms 66:4 "Everything on earth will worship you: they will sing your praises, shouting your name in glorious songs." What is my part in the mountain's destiny? or the birds', trees', flowers' destiny? My part is to follow their lead and worship the Creator with them.

From my front porch

"Beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there." Annie Dillard

Mosquitoes are on their annual manhunt here in Alberta and eventho the outdoors is so beautiful and inviting, I've been avoiding it to escape the wrath of these insects that I abhor. I have been an ardent whiner and complainer about mosquitoes for years. Last year, under the tutelage of St Francis of Assisi, I vowed to "embrace" mosquitoes. How does one embrace mosquitoes? For me it means that I stop whining and complaining about their existence. To accomplish this, I wear pants, socks, and long sleeves lots more than I have in the past. Less exposed skin = fewer mosquito bites. It works! I'm bummed by my new dress code, but I'm enjoying the victory of accepting this tiny creature created by God that serves as a delicious meal to the frogs, fish, birds and bats.

I'm sitting on my front porch hoping to be inspired by a nature lesson. I can't boast an idyllic lake view or majestic mountain view, but I can attest to my quiet street's beauty. I enjoy the elms, poplars, spruces, weeping birch, mayday, and mountain ash trees. Each tree seems to be the choir loft for a chorus of song birds. I'm listening to birds and wishing my morning countenance and attitude was more like theirs and less like the crow I hear in the distance. But admittedly, I'm ugly and nagging - quite crow-like in the morning.

A gorgeous magpie just lighted on my sidewalk. She's black, white and royal blue. A beautiful bird she is. But nasty. A cousin to the crow, the magpie is a scavenger, a "rudy" as my girls say. She steals and eats the eggs and babies of the good birds. She is not unlike many of the people in our culture. Pretty on the outside, nasty on the inside; nasty lifestyle, nasty habits, nasty nature. She reminds me of what I don't want to be.

My dear son Christopher arrived last Thursday. I feel more whole with him here. He is 6 feet tall and a fine young man. He entertains me with stories from Arkansas. Last night I laughed so hard it felt like no oxygen was getting to my head and I was about to pass out. Since I only see Christopher one, maybe 2 times a year, I'm amazed at how much he's grown up. He knows things I don't, he's smart in some areas I know nothing about. He continues to grow spiritually and that is what I'm most thankful for. May God always be glorified in Christopher's life.

Lucy has just joined me out here. That crow that was "in the distance" a while back is now in the spruce tree right beside us. She seems to be trying to torment Lucy with her incessant cawing and she's successful in her endeavors. Lucy is agitated.

Yesterday before church, Lucy was agitated and going person to person whining. Gordon said Lucy and was saying, "Oh I just hate Sundays. This is the day you all go to church to worship someone other than me."

The sun is beating down on me and the wind is against my face. The clear blue sky is the backdrop for the trees I love so much.

Beauty and grace have performed all around me. I'm glad to have been here for the performance. It's a divine way to begin the day.

Age

I'm feeling old these days. I'm not complaining of aches, pains and memory loss, but I'm observing things about myself and my environment and what I notice clearly indicates that I'm aging. First I'm recognizing that I'm not as strong, I'm not as sharp, and I'm not as "on the ball" as I once was. There was a time when I was, quite possibly, the smartest person I knew. :-) Those days are long gone. Now life is characterized more by what I don't know than what I do know. My idealism has be shattered over and over, and I see that nearly every dilemma has two sides and both sides can present a good argument. I have strong feelings on lots of things, but the opposing argument may make perfect sense to me. I remember the days when I knew every solution to every problem -- even if my mentality was skewed, there was a great deal of security in knowing exactly where I stood.

I find repeatedly that I don't fit. I don't fit any political party, I don't fit any denomination. I just kind of vacilate from issue to issue. I'm as fickle as anyone I know. Last year I started taking the city bus more places (embracing ecological conservation). On my way to work today (1/2 way by bus, 1/2 way walking) I experienced feelings and thoughts that were on each end of the spectrum. While on the bus, we passed a homeless man with his grocery cart picking up bottles. I've seen him a number of times, but this time was different. He only had on one shoe. My heart was filled with sympathy. "Oh God, help me be content with less so we can help others more," I prayed.

Less than 15 minutes later I walked past a 5th wheel trailer and I lusted. "I wish Gordon would buy us a trailer," I wished. Moments later I realized the dichotomy in my own thinking. Day in and day out I find myself wanting opposites. One day I may look at show homes because we "need" a fourth bedroom. Another day I may be suggesting we sell our house to get something smaller so we can help others more. Back and forth I go -- always thinking and consistently fickle. (This is where Gordon comes in. He's as steady as they come.)

I wish I knew more. I wish I had answers to all my questions. I wish I knew how to be Christian in 21st century North America. But, I don't. I stumble from one issue to the next.

Sunday my pastor said a few things about aging gracefully. To grow old gracefully, I need to recognize life isn't about me and not be ruled by my ego. Wrinkles, sagging, gray hair, extra weight all testify that life has banged us up a bit.

That banged up effect has an element of splendor to it. "The glory of the young is their strength; the gray hair of experience is the splendor of the old." Proverbs 20:20

A Divine Nature Watch

This year has found me training myself in a new discipline, something I’ve never done before. I am trying to hear the voice of God through nature. Psalm 19 speaks of nature being a teacher, how nature alone can teach us about God. Recently I read a quote from William Wordsworth. He said, “Let nature be your teacher.” That quote resonated with me and I knew that I had neglected the lessons of nature. I knew I had neglected to see God in his creation. I had no problem marveling over the “grander” things in nature; the Rocky Mountains, oceans, a gigantic waterfall. But I hadn’t quieted myself to hear God and see God in the nature I’m around everyday.

Murray Pura wrote a story called “The Divine Game of Pinzatski”. In the story, the Pinzatskis, an urban couple, played a game of naming characteristics of God that things in nature reminded them of. If they saw an eagle, one of them might say that eagle reminded them of God’s power or his majesty. The ash in campfire reminded one of them of the purity of God. Ants staggering along with a bit or corn reminded one of them of God’s desire to use what is apparently weak and puny to do those tasks which are most difficult.

“My Divine Game” isn’t quite like that, although sometimes it’s very close. God is teaching me to see a message from Him in his creation. It has been enlightening and encouraging. Many mornings before I leave my house, just looking out my living room window I will see not just nature, but the nature of God as well.

One evening I went to bed right after reading the newspaper and TIME magazine. I was struck by the wickedness and pain in our world. My heart was heavy. The next morning as I was having a cup of coffee and waiting for God to show me something new in nature, the trees began to teach me. Actually it was a single spruce. The spruce was standing among deciduous trees and she was a stark contrast, (although I’d never noticed before). Her green was deeper and she was pointing heavenward. As all the trees surrounding her were blowing in the gentle breeze, she looked stoic and unwavering as she delivered her message; “Look heavenward, aim heavenward, think heavenward.” The spruce reminded me that all my help and all this world’s help will ultimately be from God, and that is where I need to focus my attention and affections.

Several mornings later the trees were still. It had been days since there had not been a significant breeze. That morning the stillness of the trees seemed to say, “Be still and know that He is God.” I was reminded to slow down and soak in the fact that He is God. My eyes were drawn back to the spruce, which had reminded me to look heavenward a few days earlier. This day I was reminded to look heavenward in the stillness, the calmness, the quiet—not just when my heart was heavy or burdened.

The peaceful gurgling noise of a fountain has repeatedly reminded me of God’s gentleness. The songbirds remind me to sing a song of thanksgiving and praise to God. The trees that didn’t produce well this year because we failed to prune them, remind me that God has a purpose in my hardships, my pruning. The robin couple working together on their nest, had a powerful message on unity.

This new form of viewing nature has transformed my outlook. Things that I never noticed before have become beautiful and nurturing. They have pointed me to God, they have quieted my soul. Psalm 19:1 “The heavens are telling of the glory of God; and their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.” For so long I’ve neglected to listen to God’s messages in nature. I’m glad we serve a God that is not limited in how he speaks to us. God reveals Himself in nature. I am thankful to be learning that.

Pentecost

Yesterday I skipped church. I didn't want to go - just that simple. I stayed home and read my Bible, prayed and took a nap. It was a nice break.

As I laid in bed on Saturday night, at midnight, I heard the bells begin to ring at the Catholic church not too far from our house. I wondered what the occasion was and then remembered that it was the dawning of Pentecost Sunday. It was a nice way to be reminded. So yesterday while my family was at church I meditated on the Holy Spirit and His benefits. I also read the account in Acts of the coming of the Holy Spirit. In Melody Green's worship song she wrote "Thank you o My Father for giving us your Son, and leaving your Spirit till the work on earth is done." I absolutely love that song and can in no way add to that expression - it says so much, so succinctly.

What a good day to thank Him for his gift to us - the Holy Spirit.

Heaven

I've had a bit of a hard week. No great upsets, just life, -- it was mundane and slightly painful all at the same time. My energy level seemed to be drowning in a perpetual state of overworked and under appreciated. Self pity has been my mode this week.

On Friday, when I was about as energetic as a rock, a couple whom we had invited for dinner earlier in the week, phoned to say yes they would be coming for dinner on Friday night. "Huh," I thought, "how am I gonna pull this off?" Well I made the usual Friday evening pizzas and sort of apologized for the simple meal and our casual way of doing Friday night at our place.

They are a very spiritual couple, but with different emphasis from my own spirituality. They shared their stories of a personal God, not just a God out there somewhere. Clearly they had real relationship with their God. Their visit was uplifting in that way.

The man's mother died a couple weeks ago. She was a dear woman whom I really appreciated. She sat on the same pew as my family at church. I really admired her. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and died 2 months later. The couple, her son and daughter-in-law, said it wasn't God's will for her to die. I'm very aware of how that theology works - I use to be one of those who believed just that. But I am so far from believing that now that it was near painful hearing them talk. Louise, the mother who died, was 79 years old. As they spoke they told how her own grief over not letting a situation in her life "go" had led to her cancer. She didn't give it to God, therefore got cancer and died.

I asked how the scriptures about our days being numbered played out with them and they maintained that it wasn't in God's "perfect will" that she die when she did. In an earlier conversation, I'd told him that God's "perfect will" was forfeited in the Garden of Eden and now we live with sin and ugly, evil things (ie. cancer). He couldn't have disagreed more.

One of the things I find so disconcerting about this belief is that people who believe this, (that healing is ALWAYS God's will) seem to treat heaven as though it's a demotion. Heaven is supposed to be the Christian's end goal - the ultimate promotion. I don't see that in this theology. This theology seems to me to think THIS LIFE is "where it is."

I've had enormously blessed times in the presence of God. His power and presence have been nothing short of electric. I am so thankful for those times. I join with Fanny Crosby in saying, "oh what a foretaste of glory divine." Those times have been and are the absolute best times of my life. But that powerful experience is so very miniscule compared to His powerful presence I'll experience in heaven. Quite possibly, the dearly departed look down, chuckle and say, "wow, I wish I'd got out of that cesspool a lot sooner than I did."

I believe in praying for healing. I do pray for the healing of others. I do so because the Bible says to and because I want to participate in whatever God is doing - whether that is a work of healing or a process of dying. I join God in whatever He is doing by being a pray-er. My prayers do not make or break the situation, my prayers allow me to be a participant in God's work. My days and everyone else's days are numbered from before the foundation of the world.

If I should die, please don't say "her faith was weak," "she didn't forgive," " she didn't let go and let God." To honor my memory please say, "she looked forward to heaven and that's where she's gone."

"I strain to reach the end of the race and receive the prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us up to heaven." Philippians 3:14

"Since you've been raised to new life with Christ, set your sights on the realities of heaven..." Colossians 3:1

A Good Day

It's been a wonderful day. Our church service was uplifting. There was a spirit of unity, peace and anticipation. I have a really great church. As I sat there this morning, I looked at the faces of those around me. They seemed interested, involved, engaged. What a blessing. I read 1 Peter 2:9, "... you are a chosen people....This is so you can show others the goodness of God, for he called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light." I saw in my faith community a chosen people who show the goodness of God. From my pastor I received this snippet of truth: "What you believe will be reflected in the things you do."

Yesterday we went to a Seventh Day Adventist Church. My kids are in a Seventh Day Adventist school and yesterday they were performing for a local congregation. It was a good service too. They were very Christ centered and incredibly friendly -- by far the friendliest church I've been to in a long long time.

Yesterday there was a large fire in Edmonton that took out 3 businesses. I could tell it was pretty close by, so the kids, Lucy and I started walking to see it. Those kinds of things are what set a small town girl apart from a city girl. Not many city folk would have cared to walk that far to see it. But we walked 1 1/2 miles to see it firsthand. It was really a cool experience. When I got there it was extra fun, because Gordon was there for work and he was directing traffic. I heard him long before I saw him. I said, "Hey, Daddy is somewhere over there." Sure enough. The girls wanted so badly to talk to him, (they thought it was pretty special to see everyone obeying their daddy). I told them we couldn't bother him.

I'm not one to wait for permission to cross on a crosswalk. As he yelled, "Hey get back on the curb" to the people who were trying to jaywalk in congested areas, I was so glad I hadn't done it in front of him. I leaned over to the girls and said, "I'm sure glad he didn't see how we got here, he would have yelled at us and I would have been so embarrassed." After that our walk home was very law-abiding in style.

He wouldn't have known we were there if he'd not heard Lucy. Lucy started barking and he turned to see. He said he never dreamed it would be Lucy, he just wanted to see the dog that barked like Lucy.

Small town girl. That expression conjures up lots of thoughts. I think I will share a few of those soon.

Comfort

Last night my 8 year old Hannah had a bad dream. When I got to her she was crying. I took her in my arms, soothed her fears, and let her tell me about her dream. Then I brought her to my bedroom and she slept soundly between Gordon and me. Drifting off to sleep, she was still cradled in my arms.

As I lay there with my daughter in my arms, I was reminded that the love and concern I have for my children pale in comparison to my heavenly Father's love for His children. I meditated on how my response to Hannah's fear was greatly inferior to God's response to my fears.

Like I wanted Hannah to tell me her dream, God wants me to tell him my fears, concerns and anxieties. I needed to be reminded of that.

"Cast all your cares on Him for He cares for you." 1Peter 5:7

Discipline

This computer screen is dreadfully harsh at 5am. Gordon left for work about 30 minutes ago and since the kids are still in bed, this seemed like the perfect time for quiet and aloneness.

Yesterday Pastor Shaun spoke on maturing in Christ. He said a disciple "is under the discipline of Jesus our Lord". Jesus is using the circumstances in my life to shape me, to discipline me. Not the spank kind of discipline, but the molding kind of discipline. I thought that was a pertinent message to me.

I'm in a new circumstance, an uncomfortable circumstance, so I needed the reminder that this too is part of "the plan". Through this circumstance, God is going to shape me. When I think of God shaping me, I think of me being chiseled into a new shape. "Chiseled" doesn't sound all that pleasant. I must remember when I feel the Chiseller's knife, that this is part of the discipline to shape and mould me.

I'm working on memorizing Philippians 3:7-14. Verse 12 of that passage says, "I keep working toward that day when I will finally be all that Christ Jesus saved me for and wants me to be." I look forward to the day when the molding is over and I'm a paragon of perfection, but I know that's a long way off. Until that time, I have to submit again and let God do what is best for me, to discipline me into a better person, one that can better bring glory to Him.

Maggie

On Sunday I learned that Maggie a special needs young woman at church had passed away from a heart attack. She was 28. I don’t know what Maggie’s handicap was although it looked like severe cerebral palsy. I was reading Philippians 3 last night and verse 21 reminded me of Maggie. “He will take these weak mortal bodies of ours and change them into glorious bodies like his own, using the same mighty power that he will use to conquer everything, everywhere.”

Today Maggie is more whole and more alive than anything I’ve ever known. Her weak body that I was familiar with has been exchanged for a glorious one. What a wonderful thought.