Just. Home.

It's in the slow waking and unhurried first hour
of putting on the fire and knowing it will burrn
all day....

....there will be quiet and tea
and a long game of Scrabble and just
the two of us....

.... will conversate and laugh, unpressured by
calendars or clocks or phones or have-tos,
and it will be simple....

.....and sweet to rest in the simplicity and 'now-ness'
of mid-Christmas joy, setting aside for just a time the
necessary, fulfilling and competing demands
that mostly
keep me away from home. 

But.  Not.  Right.  Now.

Right now
I am fully, gleefully, gratefully present
at home.

Just home,
with a fire on.
All day.

Cosmic Improbabilities: An Open Christmas Letter to Highview Community Church

In the end, I always feel slightly bedazzled.

Doesn't matter when I get started, or how much I feel ready, in these last few days before Christmas it always surprises me that it's all happening so soon.  How could it be only 'five more sleeps' until The Day? 

But it is.  And here I am, ready and waiting, and bedazzled again by the cosmic improbability of Love Incarnated.  That's where these pre-Christmas meditations sometimes take me.  God came down?  He put on human skin? 

And to be perfectly honest, it could easily all become just a 'nice' story bordering on myth to me, if it weren't for a dynamic piece of compelling evidence that it actually did happen  -- you.

When you set aside your personal agendas...
When you take no thought of status or position...
When you're selfless and kind and compassionate....
When you persist in the mundane and refuse to run after 'sparklier' but lesser things...


When you serve tirelessly, and offer yourselves as living sacrifices...
When you open your arms and your hearts and even your homes, to make room for others on the journey...

That is when I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the King of the Universe really did wrap Himself in humanity.

Because to do so, He had to set aside any personal agendas and took no thought of status or position.  It was an act of ultimate selflessness, unbelievable kindness and infinite compassion. He arrived in such an obscure, ordinary way, refusing to be born in the palace He deserved, but offering Himself to the totality of His mission, and opening His arms to the weak, the poor, the vulnerable, the broken.

So when any group of people think, feel and behave in any of these extraordinary, cosmically improbable ways, there is mighty evidence indeed that the power of the Incarnated Christ resides among them. 

You need to know that to live and serve and be among you is a great honour for me, one I feel woefully undeserving of.  To watch God move among us in countless completely obvious and totally hidden ways, knowing that His Holy Spirit is being allowed to shape, correct and inspire us more and more into the image of His Son?  What a good and astonishing gift!

As we move closer to Christmas Day, whatever it holds for each of us personally, my prayer is that that we will make every effort to be fully present with the ones God gathers around our table, and to be acutely aware of His deep desire to be "Emmanuel" - with us - over the holidays, and in our lives always.

The New Year holds many more good and astonishing gifts, of that I am confident.  I can't wait to unwrap them with you as we continue to be a 'cosmic improbability' in our own backyard and around the world.

I love you.  I say this with everything I know in my heart to be true.

Ruth Anne

Saving the Best (and Hardest) for Last

Things have fallen into place this season, allowing me the great gift of being really ready for Christmas this year, well in advance.  Yes, I know I'm a Type A and like to be organized and all that.  But this year seems to be a year when all that administrative hutzpa I've been blessed with actually worked on Christmas!

To my delight and wonderment, the house has been festive since late November.  Cards were designed, crafted and delivered by December 1.  Family meals are planned out, and we already have the turkey and some 'sugary treats' waiting in the freezer. 

All our gifts have been unhurriedly selected and wrapped, and some of them have already been delivered.  Everything's ready. 

Almost.

Every year, no matter what degree of readiness applies to all other Christmas things, I find myself in the same place about one thing.  I do not yet have something for Ken.

I could blame it on his gender, or the fact that already has the whole set of 007 DVDs.  He's a collector, and over the years family and friends, myself included, have tapped into his interests and have, on his behalf, completed 'sets' of any number of things.  I could say it's that. 

I could say that you can only give a man so much chocolate (although I doubt he'd agree).  I could even blame it on the fact that his birthday is a mere month to the day prior to Christmas, and that I use up all my best ideas on him then.

But its not that. It's more than that.

It's the sheer impossibility of finding something that means anything at all when the person to whom you are attempting to give means more than anything else. 

Now, sometimes I do come up with a brainy idea and the depth of the giving matches the giving of the gift.  But more often I suffer this seasonal anguish, and falter in my desire to make it so. 

Because what do you give to a man who was once your teenage boyfriend, all newly mannish and  mysteriously 'other', with some enchanting, awkward kisses to offer?

And what do you give to the guy who was brave enough to marry you, and adventurous enough to start a family with you, and strong enough to build a life with you, and courageous enough to stay with you?    What do you offer a man who has muddled his way through enough of his 'stuff' to muddle with you through yours?  Who has come to understand your soul - what makes it sing, what feeds its passions, what fuels its energies - and determines in his own to be the one who finds the resources that will release you to become all you were meant to be?

What do you give the hero who cares for your elderly parents as if they were his own?  Who's stood by your side, and behind you and in front of you, when hostile forces have come against you, never flinching even in the putrid face of the enemy set on your destruction.  And then, on the other end of heroism, faithfully does the mundane with patience and humility?

What?  Pajamas?

See what I mean?

I know I'll come up with something.  I always do.  And Ken will be all good and happy about it.  He always is.  Well, most of the time he is.  But either way it won't be enough.  Not in reality.  Not at all. 

So I will try to ease the anguish of my inadequate gift through doing my very best to let him know every day how unspeakably grateful I am that I'm his wife.  Make it as public as I can.  As private as I can.

Merry Christmas Honey.  You are, without question, my best gift.

Peace Gifts

It's the simple gifts that bring me most peace
this time of year.

Being home all day Saturday.  Just.  Being.  Home.  A slow in-seeping of joy as I wrapped presents, sipped tea, ran through a few loads of laundry.  Not having to be anywhere else.  All day. 

Early, early this morning, alone at the front of the church.  Lit only by the lights on the tree.  Listening over and over again to Breath of Heaven (Eaton/Grant) and keenly aware - again - of my desperate need.  Such a gift to be so vulnerable before a terrifying God... and feel so safe.

In my office after church today.  Packing up, sitting at my desk, I felt two slender arms encircling my neck.  I hadn't heard her come in, but it was Abby.  She didn't say anything.  Didn't ask for any of the candy she knows I keep in my desk drawer.  She just hugged me.  "Everything okay?", I asked, because she was so quiet.  "Yeah," she said.  "Just wanted to come hug you." 

Finally.  Finishing.  Greek!  I've been working on an online credit since the beginning of August.  There's been computer-related challenges over and above the brain-brutality language learning is famous for.  So to reach the designated level that crossed me over the finish line made me close my eyes and fill my lungs slowly and deeply.  I held the relief in there for a little bit.  Then let it out slowly, reveling in that wonderful sense of having accomplished something important and difficult.

Receiving word that someone wants to give $1000 towards the costs of bringing our Thai friends to Canada next month!  A surprise, this.  Didn't see it coming.  

A December with space to breathe.  And plans for family gathering that lack the painful complications of other years.  Oh yes, this is truly a gift.

And it's all a gift, in the simplicity of it.  That's all.  Just quiet and beautiful and life-giving and sweet.  I receive these gifts with gratitude of magnificent proportions, inside a soul fully aware of all there is to grieve. 

Yet stubbornly, I notice the peace.  Because it's there.  Simply.

Glad Quietly

I stop on purpose.
Otherwise the expectations would out-season me.
The demands out-quiet me.
So I stop.
On purpose.

The time of hushing is upon us.
Hush now, o my ambitious soul.
Listen.
There's more to be heard than you're hearing.
More to be seen than you're seeing.
More.
Quietly, there's more.

Every daybreak there's more.
Every warmly wrapped moment with tea.
Every careful, snowy drive.
Every conversation.
Every tear.
Every hilarity.
There's more to know of Him.

So I stop.
On purpose.
In Advent-wonderings.
And realize how glad, quietly, it is.

Operation Normalization

And so begins the re-entry.

By this point, just shy of 48 hours back, I'd say I'm feeling surprisingly fantastic.  Woke up way too early Saturday morning (like about 2:30 or so), but was able to use the time to unpack and do laundry and just quietly make my way through the normal tasks of returning.  Sorting things out, putting things back where I need them to be for my regular life, preparing for the 'on-purpose-lightly-scheduled' week ahead.

Even at the wedding I officiated yesterday, all went well.  Buoyed by a short nap earlier in the day, I was very glad that the ceremony unfolded glitch-free, and that the conversation at the table afterward was thoroughly enjoyable.

Good bye prayer time, sending us off.

This morning I woke up to the happy realization that I had actually slept all the way through to 4:30 a.m., which is close enough to my normal time of rising to be a very good indication indeed.  I made my normal breakfast smoothie.  I took my vitamins.  I have come over to the church early, even though I have no responsibilities this morning, just to sort through the mound of paper (pictures and cards) produced by the children for me to pass on to their beloved sponsors. 

Just now, I spent a blissfully-quiet 45 minutes resuming my normal pattern of reading and meditation, sitting in my chair, with the candle on.  Felt good and life-giving to be drinking in deeply of the solitude and contemplation.  Soon the worship band will arrive and I will hear them warming up, preparing for the service that will happen later on.  It will be delightful to see all my Highview 'peeps' and be filled by our time of worshiping God together.  I absolutely love being taught by Bill Webb, and am grateful that I am not required to preach this morning.

After that I will go home and have my normal Sunday afternoon nap.  Then spend the evening quietly with my generous husband, all in the familiar sweetness of all the things I love about my life.

And it's all going amazingly well this time.

Until just about a minute ago when I received a voice message via Facebook.  Suradet has figured out how to do that on his phone.   Unwittingly, I press play.  And for a long and heart-sore 17 seconds, the normalcy is gone.

Thai Sunrise

He's speaking Thai and just the sound of the language and the sound of his voice catches me back to the place where everything is so sensationally not normal.   He asks if Canada is cold?  He says that all the children are missing us and thinking of Ken as well (whom he calls 'father Ken').  He thanks God and ends with 'God bless you.'

I don't mind the tears.  I know they are witness to the beauty of the bond God has allowed to form between us.  I know they are part of the cost of loving like you won't get hurt, but you do, and it does.  And I know the normalcy will return in it's own time.

Body, mind, soul.  That's the order of it.  That's how we come back.  And it's happening easily and happily this time....mostly :). 

Fun

I think this trip will be best remembered for the laughter.

No question there were learnings and challenges and moments of dealing with bugs (frenzied writhing ones that fell into your food at the outdoor restaurant!).  There was the heat and humidity (although not as bad as other visits).  There were strange moments when the cultural clash bumped against Western sensibilities, and language still to be learned made for confusion and the need for much 'gring-jai'.

There was the work of teaching flute lessons and morning and evening devotions and putting together a Canadian Thanksgiving service, and preaching at the prison.

There was the concern for Yupa's Mom who suffered a mild stroke while we were there, and the meaningful time of worship and prayer we had at her house, just to gather around her and show our support and love.

But mostly it was fun.  Just fun, and funny.  A lot of the time.  Fake poo and wrong-way climbs up escalators (see previous post for details :).  Badly translated menus that invited you to try 'crap stick', and which provided Suradet and Yupa with just as much hilarity.  Games that included powder on the face and a classic well timed response from Fruk.  Gestures that would be considered highly offensive to farangs, but when made by a diminutive Thai child in a completely different context for a completely different reason, and you just have to laugh out loud.  The extra layer of humour that comes when a gentle Thai translator attempts sarcasm.   Wading ankel deep through the flash flood in the pouring rain - I mean really pouring - back to the car with three of us - Yupa, Esther and me - under a towel that's quickly getting saturated, and laughing like fools.  And - speaking of fools - spontaneous dance parties that get videoed and posted on Facebook.

So much fun. 

They say you're making real inroads into a culture when you can successfully tell a joke.  I would take that one step further and say that you're actually becoming family when hilarious stories are created in the context of togetherness. 

I will take the warm of that fun with me into many months ahead.  Gratefully.

And Now For Something Entirely Different

We've had yet another amazing day at Hot Springs, very conscious now of Thursday being departure day.  Makes everything slow down and become more 'present' somehow.

But since I don't really want to think about that....thought I'd just relay two fun stories.

Got called over with some urgency to the baptismal pool yesterday morning, before people started to arrive.  The children were dismayed and wanted to show me that it looked like a dog had done his business in the pool.  Sure enough, floating there was a fair-sized portion of, um, doggy doo.

I expressed my own dismay and horror, and indicated with some energy, the need to get that out of there!  Quick, find a stick!  Call Ahjahn Suradet!  We're definitely going to need to drain the pool and fill it up again, but do we have time?  Yuck!  Apparently, my reaction was quite amusing, since the children were laughing so hard.

That's when Fruk calmly reached in and scooped out the offensive floater with his bare hands.  Bigger reaction from Ahjahn Ruth.  More laughing.  And then Fruk couldn't in good conscience torment me any longer and revealed the truth.  Fake poo.

Fake poo?  Where does a rural Thai boy get fake poo?

I didn't take a picture.  You're welcome.

Second story.

It was market night and usually what works best is to do supper in Chiang Mai first.  We'd been promised pizza, but when the first place ended up being take out only, we made our way to one of Chiang Mai's newest and biggest malls.  I'm talking six stories high.  Of course this modern facility comes complete with escalators, which, for some rural Thais are novel at best and terrifying at worst.  Suradet tells me his father, a mountain man (some eight hour drive away), refuses to set foot on one.

Suradet himself is comfortable enough in the city.  He was born in the same village where his parents still live.  But living now just 45 minutes out of Chiang Mai, he's been exposed to all the conveniences of modern life.  Except maybe he isn't as experienced on escalators as he first let on.

We were looking for a bathroom and had decided it was one floor down.  Suradet led the way and had just got on the escalator when Yupa realized that, no, there was a bathroom just over there on the floor we were on currently.   The rest of us had not yet stepped on the escalator.

Suradet, on his way down looked up, eyes wide.  He had a split-second decision to make.  Do I continue to go down and come back up, or am I still close enough to come back up the cascading downward stairs? 

To me he was too far gone.  No question, I would have done the circuit.  Not Suradet.  He decided to go for it.  Chugging bravely against the flow, he high-stepped his way back up to the top.  Big smile and a 'tada' kind of expression when he got there.  Except, Yupa and Bao had hurried away, not wanting anyone to know that this guy was with them.  A few onlookers did indeed seem rather unimpressed. 

I so wish I had a video.  Honestly, it was hilarious. It's these kinds of unexpected joyful moments that make the memories and make us family.

I warned him that this was too fun a story not to share with Highview.  And now I have :). 

How Can It Get Better Than This?

 This morning, just before all the wonderful began, I stepped out onto the small porch of Suradet and Yupa's home, having finished my final notes for the Thanksgiving service that was to start in about 30 minutes or so.  As is common, an English worship CD was playing in the sanctuary, loud enough to be heard almost anywhere on the property.  And I recognized the song as Everything, by Lifehouse.

How can I stand here with You and not be moved by You?
Would You tell me, how could it be any better than this?

A wash of profound gratitude came over me, and I just stopped to soak in the unexpected moment of worship, looking out over all the buildings and lush green of Hot Springs.  All this place represents in terms of God's goodness and guidance and sovereignty and passion for those who have no voice.....  Yes, how could it get any better than this?

And that was BEFORE the service!

It was two and a half hours of abundance.  If a church service were a meal, this was a Thanksgiving feast, without question.  Prayer time, all out worship in our voices, special renditions on the flute by Esther's young students, a dance number by some of the girls, and special numbers by Miki and Two, and our visiting university students.  Esther spoke through our interpreter about the pressures of choosing a career path in music, and followed that with a stunning flute solo.  Sermon was about Luke 17:11-19 and the nine that didn't come back to say thank you.

We handed out banana muffins in lieu of pumpkin pie (no such thing in Thailand, and you learn to improvise rather broadly here ;).  Then we all headed downstairs for the baptism of five people who were ready to make public their commitment to faith in Jesus.

In an act of utter selflessness, Suradet, who had done ALL the shepherding and discipling of these candidates, offered me the honour of actually doing the baptisms.   To keep everyone in attendance (which doesn't happen, Suradet says, when we truck out to the water reserve) Suradet had purchased a small child's pool.  That's where the baptisms took place.  

The five newly baptized souls are Porn and Pook, two women from the church, and Kratae, Porn, and Da, three of our own girls. [Just because I'm sure you're wondering, Porn means 'blessing' in Thai :)]

So tell me, how does it get any better than this?

When you dedicate your life, your vocation, your energies and passions to something, and you get to see it actually happening; when you work hard, sometimes without encouragement, sometimes against criticism and personal attack; when you just lay it all down and leave it in the hands of a God you believe to be wise, and sovereign and good, just one day like this can be all you need to make you believe your life makes sense.

Today my life makes sense.

And it just doesn't get any better than that.

 Lifehouse - Everything Lyrics | MetroLyrics

A Quick Sampling of Daily Life at Hot Springs

 Way too tired to blog tonight.  Will try tomorrow.  Meanwhile....here's what happens around Hot Springs during October school break :).

Jailhouse Sermons

Sometimes Jesus shows up in the most unlikely of places.

I felt that way two years ago, the first time I visited the women's correctional institute in Chiang Mai.  Within these walls there are about 120 women who have responded to God's invitation to new life and forgiveness through Jesus, because of the faithful, life-giving presence of Pastor Suradet and Yupa, and another pastor friend of theirs, Pastor Pic-Chai. 

About once a month they drive the 45 minutes into Chiang Mai, subject themselves to the security checks, and spend two hours with some of the most peaceful, delightful women you'd ever want to meet.

I had the enormous privilege of visiting with them again today.

Like last time, they sang us in.  It's a surreal experience.  Behind barbed wire and bars, voices echoing against the bare gray walls and floor, their strong unison and rhythmic clapping can be heard first from a distance and then growing louder until you turn the corner and come into the open space where they sit, row on row, smile on smile.  Their joy saturates the room.

Thinking over the day, yes, I'm glad for the sense that I really connected with the women as I spoke (through an interpreter).  I talked about what an arduous journey it is to travel half way across the world, but how the thought of that first glimpse of my Thai family, waiting at the airport to receive me, makes any and all discomforts and expense more than worth it.  Oh so worth it.  I compared that to the hope of 2 Corinthians 4:16-18, and the focus we can have, as followers of Jesus, on what it waiting for us at the end of all this journey we call life.

Yes, I'm glad for that great feeling of them laughing at the right places, and nodding in agreement, and otherwise indicating that somehow something was being communicated that seemed somewhat helpful.

But today I am more impressed with what those women have yet again brought to me.  They were more a sermon to me than anything I spoke to them.  With the same point.  Their voices, singing again to us as we left, ring in my mind as a bookmark for keeping a perspective of hope.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Esther remained to teach flute and hang out with the kids.  Apparently enough progress is being made already that a short, simple duet is planned for this coming Sunday service!  It's so much fun watching Esther with the girls.  She's patience and encouraging, and really knows her stuff.

I also asked Esther to hand over my little camera to one of the kids.  I find that I get some pretty good pictures that way.  What follows is the work of Eg and Cheunlung.  :)

Stay tuned for tomorrow's exciting episode:  "Esther Rides An Elephant"

Ponla (Paula) and Cheunlung

Kratae, Cheunlung, Esther, Ponla

Bao and Esther

Cheunlung, Esther, Tonkhao

Just Me and the Pi-Sua

A rather large, black butterfly (pi-sua) just paused on the binder beside me.

I'm sitting at the dinning room table, following a lovely, unhurried two hour meeting with Suradet, Yupa and Boy our translator.  You really can't rush these things when every word is spoken twice, and you need to be all the more sure you've communicated things well.  It really didn't feel like that long, though.  It was a happy, productive time planning for the visit from the Team next March, Day Camp ideas, general conversation about life at Hot Springs, and some deeper heart-sharings between co-laborers.  And we prayed, in both English and Thai.  

Esther has been thoroughly occupied all morning, first teaching her second lesson to very eager students, all girls, who have practiced diligently since yesterday morning, and were apparently ready to take some important next steps.  After that, she left to go back to our room and practice on her own.

I have stayed to go over my notes from the meeting, run through the required 'paths' for my online Greek course, and write this blog post.  That's when the butterfly paid me a visit.

Sometimes it would be easy for me to forget that I am half way around the world.  Other than the fact that I am indeed mindful and missing all the important relationships God has so generously gifted me with in my 'regular life', I find that by now, my 10th visit, I feel so at home here that I forget I'm not.  Until an exotic creature rests on my binder for a breath.

Plans are taking shape as our visit unfolds.  Yesterday's trip into Chiang Mai was very successful.  Canadian dollars were exchanged for baht.  A few various and sundry items were picked up at Big C (think Wallmart on steriods, Asian style).

We dropped in on Bee (Suradet and Yupa's son) at the new, modern mall called Promenada, where he is working to help pay for his education next year.  He's at the information desk and looks quite grown up and important in his suit and tie :).  

Then we hit the Christian bookstore (Dave, Heidi, Megan, remember how last year someone parked on our shoes?) to pick up Bible 'shirts' (covers) for some of the kids who don't have them.  It got fairly hot by the end of the afternoon, and I was regretting my decision not to have a nap and not to turn on the air conditioning.  Thought I could get away with just the fan, but later I was feeling slightly unwell.  Much better after a cold shower and a good sleep (mostly) last night.

For evening devotions tonight we will head over to Yupa's Mom's to worship together and pray for her.  She has apparently had a small stroke but didn't go to the doctor with her initial symptoms.  We will know more after we see her. 

There's talk of riding an elephant, of a market visit, of course, and plans for a party later this week.  Other things have been mentioned, but we'll see what actually unfolds.

Breathless Thanksgiving

We laid low for this, our second day at Hot Springs. 

Sunday had been abundant with worship and conversation over lunch with the three adults who want to be baptized next Sunday.  Hearing their stories and being in awe again of how proactively God intervenes on behalf of those who have nothing, I felt as though I was in the presence of a different kind of royalty.  More on their stories later though.  Esther had her first performance.  I had preached and led evening devotions.  We fell into bed reminded that we'd just traveled half way around the world and were in a completely different time zone.  Slept well, both of us.

Monday was a day off.  Appropriately so, since at home in Canada we'd be eating too much, having a nap, and just chilling with the family.  Exactly what we did, and with great thanksgiving.

I'd brought a ping pong set (inspired by a video Suradet had sent me earlier where there was a string for a net and only one paddle and a book used as the other :) so we watched a mini tournament for a bit.  Then Fruk brought out his magic set and wowed us with his tricks.  Except no one has told him that a magician never reveals his secrets, because at the end of each trick he seemed to take great delight in showing us exactly how it was done!  Both Esther and I were challenged to arm wrestles.  We went on a 'lion hunt'. 

In the flat space provided by the new shelter between the main church building and the conference room, cartwheels and hand stands and various flip over moves can be practiced and shown off.  Wild applause as only a visiting 'gramma'  and 'auntie' can provide.

And on the empty spaces of my notebook, second and third graders can help me with my Thai spelling.  Over the top praise for every effort, as only sweet children eager to encourage my language learning can give.

Guitars were brought out and Esther and Miki and Boy, surrounded by curious littler ones, sang soft songs of worship for about an hour or so. 

We 'helped out' a local business owner by receiving the good gift of a Thai massage at the little shop just down the road.  After that was when the nap happened to us.  Then supper.  Then....

Opening Sponsors' packets at evening worship.  And suddenly it all feels more like Christmas than Thanksgiving.  Except the kids at Hot Springs are tidy in their excitement, pulling each item out with care, exclaiming over treats and gifts, and then gingerly replacing them into the packet before pulling out the next, and exclaiming over that as well.  Prayers for Sponsors.  Oh so grateful.  And then to bed.

Because of the baptisms and because it will give us more time to prepare (and decorate!), the celebration of Thanksgiving Sunday (service) won't happen until next week.  But today..... today felt like Thanksgiving Monday should feel.  Surrounded by loved ones, simply enjoying being together, having fun, being grateful.

I miss my own family and sharing in the gratitude rituals with them, and with my wonderful Highview family as well.  It's odd not to be with them, for sure.  But this was good and deep and beautiful. 

If Thanksgiving is a time to set aside the regular schedules and routines that can distract us from gratitude, to allow us to stop and say thank you, then I was considerably distracted today. 

Being here brings clear focus to what my life is about, and sharp awareness of who I'd be without Jesus. The depth of my gratitude for God's goodness and sovereignty and delicate love makes it hard, at times, for me to breathe.

Random Acts of God-ness

As we settle into our first day at Hot Springs, I'd actually like to tell a story that happened on the trip over.

It was on the first, long flight from Toronto to Seoul.  Both Esther and I had aisle seats, which is exactly the way to go for the endurance flights.  Means you can get up and move around any time you want.  It also means that each of us had 'other' seatmates.

On my side of things, I was traveling with two stunning, well dressed Korean women who were friends with each other.  We got along fine, but they mostly kept to themselves, slept a lot (more than me, I was jealous) and apologized profusely any time they wanted to get up.

It wasn't until the very last hour of that flight that I actually had a conversation with either.  It was with the woman who had the window seat.  She was standing in the aisle to stretch, like me, and we began to chat.  The first topic of co-travelers always leads with inquiries as to respective destinations, and so I found out that she was on her way home for some surgery so she could return to Toronto and continue her studies.  Asking further, I found out that not only was she studying theology, but she was a student at Tyndale Seminary, just like me!

Immediately the conversation moved into high gear, comparing programs, professors we had in common, and a little bit about what God was doing in our lives.  At this point we exchanged first names, and Meeching asked me about our destination.  She was very excited to hear Suradet and Yupa's story, about how God was reclaiming young lives in Thailand, and about Highview's strong connection, relationally and spiritually.

Then we sat down again and the conversation ended in the midst of the 'we're almost there' tidying ritual of the attendants.  But then Meeching reached over her friend to touch my arm. With a sincere face she told me that she felt God would have her give something toward the care of the children at Hot Springs.  And she handed me a single piece of paper money.  It was dark, and I couldn't tell at first exactly how much it was for.  But then I held it up closer to the screen and saw she'd handed me a US $100 bill.

This she gave freely to a stranger.  

I pray all the time that God would provide for the needs of our kids.  Our Sponsors are a HUGE part of that, for sure.  And the various times we've raised funds for specific needs, that's been phenomenal as well.  But to have this much just handed over to me at random like this?

I thanked her so much, over and again.  Promised it would get straight into Suradet and Yupa's hands.  Tucked it away into my wallet.  I couldn't wait to give it to them and tell the story.

Which I did, in the car on the way to Hot Springs from the airport.  Prajao di - God is good - in so many wild and random ways like this.

And I can't help thinking that this is only the first of many surprises God has in store for both Esther and myself this time out.

Esther, by the way, is a pro traveler, has a strong and positive disposition, and is embracing this experience fully.  Her first flute performance was this morning at the Sunday service, and both her poise and servant's heart served the dear people of Hot Springs well.

Stay tuned for more.   Especially pictures.  Just tried to include some here, but I have to figure something out on my phone first :P. 

Lifting Sails

It's totally crazy how stuff clusters.

The fall began more or less as I expected, and in happy rhythms of Sabbath, giving way to pressing into work, giving way to Sabbath again.  Times outside, by the pond or on the patio, helped elongate summer's restorative benefits, even as the pace picked up and seasonal events unfolded.  Life and people seemed at ease with one another.  Community purred.  All was good.

Then, beginning about two weeks ago, the first little ruffle seemed to let in a series of random and unrelated gusts of unhappy surprises, not unheard of in my 'line of work', but unusually clustered and all coming out of left field.  Each difficulty took me completely by surprise.  I would leave the conversation, or finish the email and say to myself, "I didn't see that coming."

Like I said, it's random and unrelated, each situation oblivious to any of the others.  But, almost every other day since it started, there's been one unhappy surprise after another; one surge of adrenaline, or dip of sadness, or even rise of anger after another requiring the disciplines that keep me centered and calm.

Perhaps not-so-randomly, I recently received my special edition of Steve Bell's 25th anniversary collection entitled "Pilgrimage".  Amongst its generous offerings is a guitar and voice only rendition of the traditional hymn "I Feel the Winds of God Today."  Love it.

It's simplicity and honesty has encouraged me.  The strength of the resolve to say with conviction, "today my sails I lift" when you know there is drenching spray ahead....  I find I am braver because of the gentle melody and gutsy lyric that sets me back to sea.

I include the lyrics here, in case anyone is in need of some grit to lift the sails this day. 

And it's with joy and deep gratitude that I realize the abundance of my life, the loyalty of friends, and the anticipation of visiting my Thai family starting in just a few days. 

I Feel the Winds of God Today (Kingsfold)
Music: Traditional, Lyric by Jesse Adams – public domain

I feel the winds of God today
Today my sail I lift
Though heavy oft with drenching spray
And torn with many a rift

If hope would light the water’s crest
And Christ my bark will use
I’ll seek the seas at His behest
And brave another cruise

It is the wind of God that dries
My vain regretful tears
Until with braver thoughts shall rise
The purer brighter years

If cast on shores of selfish ease
Or pleasure I should be
Lord let me feel Your freshening breeze
And I’ll set back to sea

If ever I forget Thy love
Or how that love was shown
Lift high the blood-red flag above
It bears Thy name alone

Great Pilot of my onward way
Thou will not let me drift
I feel the winds of God today
Today my sail I lift

[I wish I could offer a link so you could actually listen to the song if you wanted, but I can't seem to find one.  So, if anyone finds one and wants to post it in the comments, or email me, I'll include it at a later date.]

Love Like You've Never Been Hurt

Saw this sign in a store this weekend and it made me stop to consider whether or not I did these things, or even agreed with them.  After some pondering I realized, with some interest, that the only one I had trouble embracing entirely was "Love like you have never been hurt."

It's not that I disagree exactly.  This sounds like a good philosophy, and fits well in this list of positive life-affirmations.  But I'm just not sure any of us can actually do this.

I'm not sure it's possible to love like you've never been hurt.  Is it?  Don't we all carry with us some of the leftover woundings from hurts within each relationship itself, and baggage from stuff that happened in other relationships? 

Isn't each love more of a mixture of sweet and sour that ends up being good and honest and true because we've lived through the hurts and are brave enough to keep loving and/or love again?  Maybe the hurts make us wiser lovers.  Maybe loving like you've been hurt is a deeper love.

Maybe that's what the sign is trying to say.  And if so, then, yes, I'm all for it.  I would say, right or wrong, that I don't love with the same quick, reckless abandon that I used to when I was oh so much younger than I am now, before I was hurt.  But I find that my experience of love is grittier, fiercer, less selfish now, in my post-hurt love life.  It's more chosen, more deliberate, more secure.

It's a crazy thing we do, giving our hearts away to imperfect others, while at the same time holding in our imperfect hands the hearts of beloveds we would never want to wound.   Risky business, this loving thing.

But never mind.  No one's watching or listening, the possibilities are endless, there's a little of heaven here on earth, there really are no winners, and plenty of family and friends.  So, according to the sign, and because of the great blessings of our lives, we apparently have lots of joy to do. 

The Flip Side of Sabbath

Sunday afternoons are the best.

It starts the moment I come down off the platform at the end of the sermon, sit down, turn up my hands, close my eyes and let it go.  All the work of this past week, culminating in the delivery of what I can only hope were pleasing and acceptable meditations and words, is released into the care of the Holy Spirit for Him to do with as He pleases.  Me?  I'm done. 

I'll connect with as many people as I can after the service, pray with some when needed, encourage and be encouraged, bless and be blessed.  Then it's home for lunch with Ken.  And then...the nap.

And so begins my time of spiritual restoration, from Sunday at noon until Tuesday morning, when I arrive again at the office to begin a brand new week.

Work and rest, in the rhythmic breathing of life.

A lot has been written about Sabbath lately, and a call to reclaim the essential rest God ordained for human souls.  I've needed to reclaim this for myself, unlearning patterns of drivenness and workaholism as I go.

But today my reading in Proverbs turned my thoughts to the flip side of Sabbath, and the idea that work itself is also a gift from God,

"The sluggard craves and gets nothing, 

but the desires of the diligent are fully satisfied."  

Proverbs 13:4 NIV

If I think about it, there two key points in any given week for me, and they are anchored in this work/rest balance.  One is that moment of letting go just as the sermon is done.  And the other is that moment when I turn the key in my office door and open up to the start of a fresh cycle of meaningful work.

What a gift to be able to expend my energies in meaningful labour.  To press through the challenges, put my shoulder to the wheel, and diligently carry out my responsibilities.  True enough there will be bad days.  But the overwhelming experience of my work is one I find fully and abundantly satisfying.

By the time I get to the end of the service, at the end of a well-spent week, I will welcome the Sabbath.  But I find I can't have one without the other.  I won't release into my time of renewal with any joy unless I have given my all to the work.  And I can't give my all to the work, and it would soon become a joyless experience, without the release of renewal.

Sunday afternoons are the best.  But so are Tuesday mornings.  Two bests.

Grateful for the wisdom of a loving Father who knows the cravings of the human soul, and the holy ways that fully satisfy His children.

Calendar Calm

There's something about September that requires a fresh new calendar.  And there's something about a fresh new calendar that makes me very, very happy.

I mean, just look at all those clear open spaces, smiling and ready to receive the appointments, due dates and events that make life rich and meaningful.  Neat squares, systematically lined up, mapping out all the possibilities of a brand new season.  Clarity, order, purpose.  What's there not to love?

In fact, I love calendars so much that my husband used to claim that if I saw an open day with nothing written on it, my hand would shake until I could find something to add.

Never mind that he's like that with clean open spaces in our house.  And never mind that I wouldn't ever write something on the calendar with a shaky hand and risk making it look messy!  I mean, really!

Still, upon honest reflection of calendars gone by, he was right on.  But it wasn't about an obsession with calendars, actually.  It was about an obsession with 'doing'.  It was about finding it hard to say 'no'.  About workaholism and insecurities and lack of self-control.  And lack of self.

Having a lot on the calendar had a way of making me feel important and needed.  True thing.  Without ever having thought it through, in my gut I believed that only selfish, lazy losers had 'empty' calendars.  'Empty' being a relative term.

That was a while, and a few hard lessons ago, however.  These days my calendar is calmer.  There are open spaces....on purpose!  Yes!  I'll show them to you if you like.  Mondays are my Sabbath when I rest and play and be quiet with God in longer, unhurried ways.  Thursdays have recently become my 'no meeting' days when I can dig down into the part of my job that requires quiet concentration and deeper reflection.  For the most part, evenings are left untouched to allow for the simplicity of just being at home with my husband. 

Psalm 90:12 says, "Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."

The bigger context of the psalm speaks, in part, about understanding God as being where you live.  Our dwelling place.  I don't think there were wall calendars around back then, but the overall concept is the same.  And as someone who needs all the wisdom she can get, I welcome God's continued teaching on this, particularly as I am increasingly experiencing a deeper calm the more I give myself the time to be 'home' in Him.

It's the beginning of September, so my calendars look pretty sweet right now.  Yes, predictably, the unexpected will arrive and mess up all the well laid out plans to varying degrees throughout the season to come.  All the more reason to have the calm, empty spaces marked off, both to be the buffer, and to provide the stored-up reserves to face the challenges with more serenity.

Now, if we can just get the basement cleaned out.   I think I'll go put that on the calendar.

Thank You Summer 2014

Leaving so soon?
Really?
Must you go?
If so
allow my gratitude to follow you
wherever it is you fade off to
every year about this time.
I'm inclined
to pause and remember paws,
tiny and cool on my sun-warmed skin,
receiving nuts and giving simple moments of cheer.
And drawing near
in the spectacular spaces of dawnings and dusks,
flat water and rusks.
And foxes dashing by.
And trying not to cry
at the sheer wonder of family
altogether in one space.
To have the space to breathe
to rest
to read and feed my soul
on rocks, my sockless feet
soaking in the heat of the day
soaked in by the granite.
Best place on the planet.
That was Summer Act One.

Summer Act Two.
Home with you
still outside because I can't abide
to be indoors doing chores.
Patio or pond
I am fond of the birds
and writing words to journal the journey
of my soul, being whole, and not rushed
but hushed, still.
Except when fun chugs in
and we ride the train,
avoiding the rain.
Or a tree comes down
and we own the wood,
piling our satisfaction in stacks
against the winter.

Three celebrations, one for 87,
one for 36,
one for ten years.
No fears going forward,
just God's goodness to trust.

And now, you're leaving
and I'm disbelieving
that it's really that time
again.
Calendars are ready,
plans are steady,
but still.
Maybe you will
visit, on warm days,
when, my friend,
I'll pretend you haven't left.

Thank you, Summer 2014,
and the Father who sent you
and bent you to be
what I needed.