December

There's something particularly hushed about early December mornings.

Especially when there's been snow.

Crisp air outside.

Soft lights inside.

The quiet stirs up longings, as I believe the season is meant to do.

December is now arrived, all new and full of expectations.

Or not.

Because...life's like that.

If this is the first Christmas without someone.

Or if it's looking like this might be the last.

Or if the year past has just been so brutal

that these last days of it can't be done soon enough.

But early in the mornings, 

December holds a special hush.

And I stand outside just to breathe the air of it.

And I come inside just to wash in the softness of it.

And whatever else it is, we wait.

Let every heart

prepare Him room.

 

First Sunday of Advent - Hope

 "Faith is confidence in what we hope for

and assurance about what we do not see."

Hebrews 11:1

"The world is indeed full of peril, 

and in it there are many dark places;

but still there is much that is fair,

and though in all land love is now mingled with grief,

it grows perhaps the greater."

Tolkien

"A thrill of HOPE,

the weary world rejoices."

From "O Holy Night"

"May the God of hope fill you

with all joy and peace

as you trust in Him,

so that you may overflow with hope

by the power of the Holy Spirit."

Romans 15:13

There are far, far better things ahead

than any we leave behind.

C. S. Lewis

Winterflex

Photo from December 2024, 

my sister-in-law's fancy downspout, 

all frozen and pretty.

Looking out the window this morning and wondering just how much blow and snow we're in for this weekend.  

I know there's a fair bit of cynicism these days towards the forecasters, especially when they start putting out any numbers above 20 cm.  Most of us go on the 'believe it when I see it' track, since there's been lots of times when we thought something big was on the way and it just didn't pan out to be any kind of dealio at all.  [Note: This is especially disappointing to certain of my grandchildren who relish a snow day.]

Still.  There seems to be a high level of confidence that what's upon us now will be a multi-day event.  That, and other factors I can't pretend to understand but the science sounds reasonable, do give me pause here on the threshold of what was supposed to be a rather full weekend.  Perhaps plans are changing.

Now, if all it meant was I just had to stay home, you wouldn't hear any complaints from me.  Hunkering down in bad weather, especially winter's bad weather, is all kinds of cozy in my books.  Add a Christmas tree and other seasonal ambiance, and I'm all good.  I'll stay in, all safe and contented-like.  No problem.

But this particular snow event is coming on a weekend where people I care about have a long drive that will take them smack through the middle of the weather map's darkest colours.  And it involves a new baby celebration.  And it includes a gathering of like-minded folks seeking to encourage and learn from one another.  And it will likely affect Sunday's worship service.  And all the snow contingencies - let's call that winterflexing - and readjustments and rejigging will cost me something, take time, and require the kind of discerning decisions where people often feel differently about things so you jus can't win.  

Most of the time, it's not so simple just to cancel stuff.

I wonder though, if being Canadian and having learned to live and plan and work around the weather, especially in winter, isn't something of an advantage when navigating other kinds of storms.  It seems there could be transferrable skills that might aid in coping with other sorts of course-changing life events that require a similar kind of winterflex.  Times when you thought you have something all nicely laid out on the calendar or in the strategic plan, so to say, but it ended up the highway was closed due to zero visibility.  Times when you had to make all the phone calls, and rebook all the meetings, and rearrange all the expectations.  Times when you just have to unexpectedly hunker down for a bit until the storm runs its course and the way is clear again.

And I also wonder, if the journey of "being formed into the likeness of Christ for the sake of others" (M. Robert Mulholland Jr.), and having learned from the repeated experience of how God's plans and purposes prevail, doesn't also provide something of an advantage when faced with the need to winterflex my life.  Doesn't means I don't chafe at it still.  When the plans being adjusted present instead frightening prospects, or painful realities, or deep loss, it's not so simple just to cancel stuff.  I know.

So here's to all who are thinking things through differently right now, not just because of winter's first wallop, but maybe because life just threw you a curve ball.  And maybe we could all just be a good gift to each other by winterflexing together, offering support and practical help, being chill about any changed plans, and just staying home safe and content if that's truly the best we can do.

What's Wrong With This Picture?

“As an ethnic minority, Jesus didn’t simply care about people who were victims of Rome-sanctioned violence, he was a victim of Rome-sanctioned violence. Jesus didn’t simply care about refugees, Jesus was a refugee. Jesus didn’t simply care about the poor, he was poor.”

Christena Cleaveland

I thought I'd be happier to find my long lost Nativity set.  

I was at first.  When I glimpsed the box with the hand-written label, I said it out loud with decided glee.  "There you are!"  Somehow, even before the move, this small but central piece of our Christmas decor had been hidden away for what seemed like a long, long time.  And then, in all the shuffling of storage options between our initial clearing out of the house (starting with the Christmas bins) and now, when it didn't turn up at all, I guess I sort of expected it was gone for good.

But Sunday afternoon I spotted it, not even in all that hidden of a place, pulled it out, and opened it up.  

Yay!---Oh.

Okay.

I immediately realized how differently I have been reflecting on the Holy Family in these latter years of my life because...this particular Nativity?  It's really....white.

In my defense, this is probably 45 years old by now.  I remember purchasing it, piece by piece, as part of a cosmetic company's sales incentive, back when these characters were quite popular.  Especially in Christian circles, appearing on plaques and cutting boards, often alongside inspirational quotes, and also showing up as figurines, for example, in a Nativity set.  

I'll be honest and say that I liked it well enough back then.  And now I'm remembering that, when the children came along, we swapped this out for a kid-friendly play set, to encourage a more hands-on kind of Christmas.  That's probably when this got put away somewhere.  For a long time.

And in the meanwhile, my own Advent reflections have morphed significantly.  Particularly around the realities of Jesus' human ethnicity, and the fact that, for the first years of His life on earth, He lived as a displaced refugee.  

So this 'very sweet' representation of Jesus' birth isn't going to cut it for me any more.  Not because I want to be perfectionistic or pedantic.  But because there's something deeply theological about understanding the cosmic reset brought to light in the details of the Incarnation, and a blonde-white, porcelain Jesus is the farthest thing from it.  

As Cleaveland articulates above, He on purpose put on the skin and status of the ones He came to restore.  He avoided power and prestige, and put on poverty.  Totally counterintuitive.  Completely upside down.  Like a gigantic cosmic reset.

It seems all the more important this Christmas to remember it.  And while I tend to leave media and news and politics alone in my on line reflections, I will say that it has been very difficult this past year, as a follower of Jesus, to see Christianity attached to policy and procedure that is decidedly unlike Jesus.  

I guess it can be glad that it gives us the chance to take another look at what we've once again allowed to become distorted.  Maybe it will force us to get back to some of the gritty details of our faith, and bring out of the storage bins that which we've turned it into instead, dust it off and set it up and see if it still holds true.

I'm leaving this out for now.  But I do intend to visit the Thrift Shops over the holidays to see if I can find something more authentic.  Yes, I know there are lovely, more realistic renditions on line.  But the irony is that my commitment to the real story of simplicity and poverty makes me all the more determined not to spend the money on such things.  

Especially these such things.

And for what it's worth:

Here's a little musical reflection from Steve Bell called Refugee (from his album "Keening for the Dawn") that helps keep me oriented, especially these days.

Advent is upon us.  

Press in.

 

Body, Mind and Soul: Return Part 3 - Soul

That's the order I come back.  Like that.  Body, mind and soul.

Day 5.

I am finding the happy task of decorating for Christmas to be particularly soulish this year.

Mostly I think this is because I had to skip a season last December when we were still in transition between homes.  It was truly cozy and amazing to have a warm bed and a few familiar Christmas reminders placed gently in the room our son David so beautifully provided for us then.  And...the majority of what counts as Christmas decor, and all that such things represent in terms of provoking tradition and liturgy, was all packed away and lonely in the most bottom corners of the storage unit we had to rent for the duration.  

This year, this first week back, I have been finding such quiet joy in opening boxes, holding up treasured items, and deciding where best they might be placed to enhance our Advent meditations.  And having the opportunity to do this while still reorienting and processing and coaxing my soul back to this side of the planet has somehow added to the hush of it.

I decorate early.  Well, depending on whom you ask.  But early enough.  I am not trying to rush Christmas or push a consumeristic agenda, not at all.  Instead, I find that if I can set up the environment of beautiful, holy waiting sooner than later, I can lessen the stress that inevitably sneaks up on me as the season becomes more robust.  

O Come, O Come Emmanuel.  Come, soul of mine, and be fully here for it.  At least, as fully as I can ever be, living between two loves like I do.  Which is ironic, because...  I wonder if that's how Jesus felt?  Between two worlds like this.

The Christmas decorating isn't quite done yet.  Today I hope to finish.  There does come a time, after all, when all the disruption of the boxes everywhere isn't exciting any more and you just want to clear it away and put on the kettle, and light a candle, and eat Christmas crackle ice cream, and watch the Muppets Christmas Carol.  

It's been a very good first week back.  Yes.  In spite of a heavier dose of jet lag than usual, likely because I couldn't sleep much on the plane on the ride home, or because I also caught a little cold somewhere along the way.  Yes, it's been a very lovely first week back, between two loves, between two homes.  

Grateful.

 

Body, Mind and Soul: Return Part 2 - Mind

Not sure if I can say my mind has arrived yet or not.

It's that whole thing that I come back in three parts, body, mind and soul, and in that order.  My body arrived Saturday night (November 15), but the rest of me...

I waited until today, approaching 72 hours in this time zone, to see if I could claim any measure of mental acuity at this point.  But it's dubious.  On the one hand, today I was able to do some decent work on the Advent sermon I am excited to preach at Highview on December 7th, feeling well within my preferred prep time frames, and invigorated by the study of it.

But just as I was feeling all good about that, someone had to inform me that I was double booking some meetings for the first week in December, something I was all glad to be proactive about yesterday, but clearly not thinking straight enough to do such complicated scheduling maneuvers as that.  Fortunately for me, and everyone else involved, the one who let me know is on both lists for both meetings, so they noticed.  Otherwise I might have been swept into that wretched vortex of sending out all the extra emails that end up causing more confusion than clarity...which, come to think of it, might be happening anyways.  I don't know.  I'll check my inbox when I'm done here.  

It's like that though.  Waking up and thinking about the thing you need to do to get ready for evening worship Bible Lessons, then realizing you're already home.  Sitting down at the computer first thing in the morning when usually you're all alert and productive, only to find you are deft of any ability to concentrate whatsoever, and have to do that mindless bit of unpacking and sorting instead.  Realizing all the exciting things you wrote down on your list for this week while still on the plane ride home will indeed need to submit to the reminder at the top that says, "JET LAG WEEK - GO EASY."  The spirit is more than willing but the brain cells are pooched.  

So while I wait for my mind to get all the way back, I'll sit in this in between space grateful for all I am blessed with, go for a walk, clean up the fall stuff from the porch and back fence, and see if I can get Ken to bring up some Christmas stuff from the crawl space.  I'm excited for that too.  First time decorating our new little house for Christmas!!!!!  We'll have to take it in stages, though.  Ken's (rightfully) nervous that I'll get all the boxes opened and spread out, then hit a wall and have to leave a mess.  And not just for one day.   He's not wrong to be worried about that.  Because that's exactly how it can go.

I'll take pictures.  Not of the mess.  But when it's done.  

And maybe, by then, I'll be able to tell how I'm feeling.

 

Body, Mind and Soul: Return Part 1 - Body

Sunrise at Hot Springs

Physically, I am back in Canada.  I think.  Can't be sure because, in reality, my mind is lagging by at least three days, and I won't know much for sure until it arrives.  My soul, well...that will take a bit longer.

It always happens this way, and I'm okay with that by now.  I think.  I'm not sure actually, since my mind and my soul...wait, I already said that.

Right at the moment what I do know is that our whole Team is very grateful for all the prayers for a 'boring' trip, both there and back.  All our transfers, and even the coordinated pick ups at the airport by three different drivers, went very smoothly.  All our luggage arrived with us.  And we all got to our respective beds and had a decent sleep last night.

Goodbye at Chiang Mai airport

I have already emptied both suitcases, although there is a lot of sorting still to do to make the Sponsors and Supporters packets ready.  Still to do is map out my list for the week, with the realistic-expectations reminder note, "JET LAG WEEK - GO EASY," written in all caps just like that across the top, as a reminder.

Physically, I must say, at the risk of repeating myself but I don't care, how incredibly grateful I am for how well I feel, for the totally-free-from-any-diverticulitis-symptoms healing, plus the back-to-normal energy levels I have experienced throughout this whole trip.  Honestly, answered prayer in spades, and again, thanks to all those who so beautifully and supportive interceded for me in this regard.  

So, this morning.  I'm back.  My body is at least.  And I am so looking forward to worshiping at Highview this morning.  

Sorry to Sponsors and Supporters though.  Your packets will have to wait until next week.  Only got back to the house at 10:30 p.m. last night.  But...when you see all the treasures your kids have created for you...it will be worth the wait.  

Led by Love

"Become the kind of leader that people

would follow voluntarily,

even if you had no title or position."

Brian Tracy

I realized the other day that it's been a full twenty years, as of October 31st to be precise, that I stepped into a new intensity of leadership.  

I guess it could be said that I've been leading things since I was 16, when I took on my first Sunday School class.  I've had lots of opportunities given me as I moved into my twenties, and on into other adult roles, where it was my job to organize and inspire a group of folks to get something done.  I was intentionally mentored in these various roles, and am eternally grateful for all that has been poured into me, especially the "risks" taken by the men who were at the time my only role models at a time when cross gender mentoring was frowned upon.  Thank you, all of you.

So, leadership, doing it well, thinking it through, living it out had been part of my experience for decades already.

But it wasn't until I was asked to accept a solo pastor role, something I actually had never aspired to by the way, that I felt the full weight of leadership press upon my spirit.  During that time I read all the books, went to all the seminars, watched all the You Tube videos, took all the courses.  I needed and wanted to learn how to be the best leader I could possibly be, and applied all the energy of my Type A perfectionist temperament, and my at-the-time raging insecurities to the task.

Not long into that era of my life, only three years later, the Lord, by His great grace and lavish love, allowed me the unbelievable honour of partnering with two of His servants half way around the world, who would ultimately shape my leadership in ways nothing from my own culture could.

In fact, it was being upended and disoriented by culture shock in those first few visits to Hot Springs that forced me to learn leadership all over again.  But now/again, from the perspective of the learner, the follower.  I was in 'totally-other' territory, completely incapacitated by a language and customs I didn't understand.  And it was the best thing to ever happen to me.  If for no other reason than it soon crucified any notions that I was there to messiah anything.  There's something about having your heart dismantled that knocks the better part of any white saviour complex right out of you.  (I say 'the better part' because that insidious stuff tends to cling inside a soul, requiring frequent visits to the humility department, just saying.)

2008

I have learned so much about leadership by observing, following, listening to, imitating two of the most spectacular human beings ever placed on the planet:  Ajahn Suradet and Ajahn Yupa.   These are their formal titles, and I use them with respect.  But the truth is, I would gladly follow their lead voluntarily, not because of titles, or dynamic personalities, or impressive curriculum vitae, but just because of who they are and how they love.

A lot of western leadership books don't usually talk about love.  It can be more about strategy, and making hard decisions, and gathering the 'right' people around you, and being tough. and 'having what it takes' (whatever that means).  And most of that, yes, are bits of it.  (Some of the literature now, the understanding of it now, is indeed leaning more the the 'soft skills' of leadership.  And yay for that.)

But if you don't love the people God's given you to lead, then, really, what are you?  A boss maybe.  A manager maybe.  A chief or senior something maybe.  Maybe even a teacher, which is fine.  But a leader?

Here, I have been loved well and then, by default, led well.   And, in turn, I have sought to be ever increasing in my capacity to love, and let the Spirit lay down whatever leadership comes from that.  I can only hope it's made a difference somewhere to someone.

And this is how I've been led by love.  This is what I have been given as a by product of the astounding partnership God has forged here.  I am not, and will never be the same.  

 =====

I make no apology for gushing sentiments.  It would be utterly wrong for me not to acknowledge this great debt of gratitude I will never be able to repay.

Forming a Theology of Care

"Look at the birds of the air;

they do not sow or reap or stow away in barns,

and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them.

Are you not much more valuable than they?"

Matthew 6:26

Our little Da is small and spunky.  Even though she speaks in the typical soft volume of many Thai girls, she's actually not afraid to ask questions, let you know what she's thinking, and even advocate for herself when need be.  (Way to go, girlfriend!)

She and I have had many lovely little conversations, and she's ever so patient when I have to ask her to speak a little slowly, which is often because she's in a hurry to tell me 'all the things' much of the time.

On Friday of last week, she had a mishap at school when a chair came down on her foot.  This required a quick trip to the hospital for x-rays.  No broken bones, but some significant bruising and some bandaging for an abrasion.  She limped fairly obviously over the weekend, even with the pain relief the doctor prescribed.

But last night, while we were returning from evening worship, she wanted to hold my hand coming up the walk.  And while we walked she told me, "Ahjahn Ruth.  My foot has no more pain."  And then added simply,  "God has helped me."

Pause.

I know it is important to guard against confusing magical thinking with what we believe and teach about how God interacts with us.  A theology that is faithful to the whole of Scripture will honestly understand that God does not always behave in the way we might want Him to.  He is not manipulated by us.  He is God, we are not.  And sometimes, when we ask for healing, just as an example, He has other plans.

And.

On Friday, the day the accident happened, at evening worship we prayed for Da's foot to soon be pain free.  

For this little one in particular, who has seen violent things no child, no person of any age for that matter, should have seen, who has known trauma and terror and abandonment...for this child to begin to understand that there is indeed a loving Father Who is interested in the details of her life, Who cares when her foot hurts, and Who can and does intervene on her behalf....for her to be starting her own formation of a theology of His care for her....well....it doesn't get much better than this.

We can't begin to imagine the depth of healing our children here require.  And none us, humanly, can make it happen.  But we can provide an environment of safety and love and joy and hope.  And hold little hands and listen to little voices beginning their own spiritual journeys into stronger, more beautiful futures.  And allow the Spirit to work miracles in deep places.

Have I mentioned lately that I am astonished beyond anything I could have ever imagined for myself, just to be here, doing this?  

All The Benefits, O My Soul

"Praise the LORD, O my soul,

all my inmost being, praise his holy name.

Praise the LORD, O my soul,

and forget not all his benefits."

Psalm 103:1-2

David's praise, combined with Suradet's meditation on this text this morning, layered over with today's sunrise can't help but set up this day to be all glorious and such.

Is it Thursday already?  Well, it is here at least.  And this first week is truly in a hurry because it feels like we just got here.  

And.

Jet lag is leaving us more and more alone, appetites are healthy (of course because, Yupa's food...), and we will begin our group work with the children today after school.  I am unspeakably grateful for the strength and stamina and health I'm experiencing given how 'dicey' things could have been with a flare up of my GI issues happening at the beginning of this month.

We've been off site to a very few local little outings this week already, so all of us are very happy to just stay put today and make sure we are really ready for the English lessons.   

I confess, I discovered yesterday, with the help of one of our older girls, that my sermon might not be as ready for Sunday as I would have hoped.  This after literally months of preparation for two sermons I had hoped to share in Thai with the dear people here.  Sigh.

I'll have Yupa help me more today, so we'll see.  

It's always humbling to realize how limited I am, but how much God sustains.  

If ever there was an issue that the Spirit keeps bringing to my attention about my ministry here, it's this.  What I bring to the table is so very small.  How He multiplies it is totally His call.

 

Almost Time to Go

Quietly ready.

All bags are sorted and weighed, following a very smooth packing meeting with the Team last night. My personal bags are now by the door.  Everything I need to be comfortable while we travel is in place. Snacks are tucked in my purse.  We are all checked in and I even printed off the boarding passes.  I know exactly where my passport is.  I am hydrated and moisturized against the long dry air of the airplane.  I know where my lip balm is.  

All the things are checked off the list.  

I even got a out for a very quick walk around the block this afternoon, and then a short but lovely nap.  

I'm excited.  Can't wait to see my Thai beloveds again.  Looking forward to spending time with this spectacular Team.  It will be fun to see Esther.  Curious to see what God has in store for us.  

And loving this sweet spot of cozy and relaxed right now.

And.

Stay tuned for all the airport pictures and updates.

Here we go!

Our flight takes off at 1:45 a.m. Saturday morning.  That means we will be heading to the airport around 8 p.m., allowing for LOTS of time to maneuver traffic, get checked in, get through security, and perhaps have a little something to eat or drink while we wait at the gate.

All there is to do now is be in this quiet space for a warm, nourishing supper, and maybe, because we can, sneak in one more episode of Star Trek: TOS, our current viewing choice these fall evenings.  A little Friday night date just before I go.

Soon

I am oh so grateful for these past few days of relative calm and clarity in which to do that all encompassing task called packing.  

This is not a simple thing.  It's not like you can just chuck a bunch of stuff in a suitcase without many layers of consideration.  Four 50lb ministry suitcases contain Sponsors' packets, teaching materials, reading prizes and various and Sundry gifts.  Weight must be precise, so there's always the last minute transfer of items between suitcases, and then weighing it out again to make sure.

My own personal 50lbs has to be tediously thought through as well.  It's crazy how quickly the weight adds up, and you're deciding what can actually be left behind and what absolutely must go.  Then carry on, and liquids and batteries have to be taken into consideration.  And all in the correct accessibly pockets so security checks can happen with the least amount of fuss (as if).

It's not like I haven't done this before.  And the truth is, I fret about it much, much less than I used to.  I have clothes and toiletries I leave there, plus a lot of office supplies, and a wonderful sun hat!  But still.  It's a thing.  And it needs to be thought through carefully.

Which is why it's been so good to just have some space to do all of it in an unhurried way this week.

Besides....those faces!  It's all worth it.

"Just as a nursing mother cares for her children, 

so we cared for you. 

Because we loved you so much, 

we were delighted to share with you 

not only the gospel of God but our lives as well."

1 Thessalonians 2:7-8

 

Daring Daybreak

A brief but broad splash across the sky at sunrise just now.  Friday begins as the week winds to an end.

I am grateful and in a relatively calm space, checking off 'all the things' and staying glad in the last preparations before departure in a little more than seven days from now.  

It's nice to just stand out here for a minute.  Even the city sounds welcome the day.  And there was a rabbit around here somewhere a few seconds ago.  

Brilliance.  Stillness,  In its own way.

And back inside now.  

I have things to do, and a day to dare in.  Even, steady, pacing myself, bracing myself against the temptation to add any more things just 'because I can.'  Letting enough be enough, and that being perfect.

I send daring blessings to you, friends.  Whatever the sky is bringing you today.  May it be brilliant and still, in its own way for you.

Keeping it Real: The Sneaky Contempt Thing

Seems odd to launch into a reflection on contempt on such a spectacular day.  And most certainly, I intend to end on a positive note here, much like the beauty sunshine that I relished in on my afternoon walk Tuesday afternoon.

But this is about what else I'm letting into my mind and spirit these days, as political posturing floods my newsfeed.  And how gradually, gradually so much of it has become full of all kinds of nasty.  

Where is it all coming from?

I'm talking about memes, 'breaking news,' or anything that remotely looks like a credible report of any kind, but is actually a below-the-belt whammy on someone, usually a well-known someone, using inflammatory language without any apparent attempt at civility or perhaps even accuracy.  The problem with it is, and this is something of a confession, as best I understand these things, what I'm seeing on my feed is very likely because of other things I've clicked on or looked up previously.  Meaning, I'm getting all the nasty things that are directed at what I'm already indicating is likely my opinion or leaning.  

And another level of transparency.  More than just taking the click bait, sometimes I find myself registering an inner agreement, cheering it on.  

I know it's not okay.  Not if I claim to be a person who follows the Jesus who taught us the dignity of every human being.  But I had let is become normalized somehow.  Just scrolling on through all the vitriol.

Then this.  In a chapter called "Places we go when we feel wronged," in Rene Brown's Atlas of the Heart: Mapping Meaningful Connections the the Language of Human Experience.  In considering the experience of contempt, she talks about something I'd never really seen articulated before.  

"'Motive attribution asymmetry' -- the assumption that your ideology is based in love, while your opponent's is based in hate..."  Then, quoting Arthur Brooks in a New York Times piece entitled "Our Culture of Contempt: "Contempt makes political compromise and progress impossible...It also endangers the contemptuous person by stimulating two stress hormones, cortisol and adrenaline.  In ways both public and personal, contempt causes us deep harm" (page 218-219).

And yes, you should read the book.  Because the detailed level of Brown's research is worthy of thoughtful pursuit.  And there's way more involved, and all of it fascinating, than what I will deal with here.  But I was moved by the definitions of contempt, and the correlation to beliefs of superiority, and how easily I can attribute hateful motives to those I find myself at odds with.

This reaches beyond my Facebook feed, of course.  But I'm starting there.  You know, there's this little feature called "Block."  Ima just gunna use that a bit more often, me thinks.  Don't need to pour contempt into this heart I've been instructed to guard 'above all' (Proverbs 4:23).  

It's all part of a journey I've been on for a few months now.  How to think, feel and behave as a Christ-follower in such a dichotomized world.  Desperately desiring unity in His Church while still wrangling with justice, and realizing again that it starts with what's beating inside my own chest.

Really looking forward to digging deeper into Brown's work with our theo-discussion group Thursday afternoon.  

Another beauty day, I think.  

Hope it's a good one for you!

Between Thanksgivings

 "Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good.

His love endures forever...

Give thanks to Him who by His understanding made the heavens,

spread out the the earth upon the waters,

who made the great lights....

"the sun to govern the day, 

and the moon and stars to govern the night.

His love endures forever."

Psalm 136:1,5-9 (compressed)

It won't do to finish out the Thanksgiving Weekend without at least a little something from Psalm 136.

A unique feature of this ancient hymn of God's people is the resounding repeated phrase, 

"His love endures forever," 

as if every item listed throughout the 26 verses was evidence of this.

Also, I can't help but be mindful, this Thanksgiving Weekend, of where we were last year at this time.

Not just geographically, which was on the Freddy Channel, still at the cottage; but also emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, which was 'homeless in KW."  And the contrast between then and now....

It was a big deal.  You can tell because I'm still writing about it a year later.  

And I think one of the things I'm more grateful for this year, more aware of enough to be more grateful for at least, is the enduring love of God that brings it all home (pun intended).  Because last year at this time I didn't know how fabulous our new little house would be, and how dramatically we would go from being all disrupted and unsettled (anxious), to sweet and safe (content).  

And since right now I'm struggling against some pretty daunting responsibilities, looking into the future with a mixture of yay and yikes (talking here about getting the land deed for the Property Development Project), this contrast between last Thanksgiving and this, gives me hope for the contrast between this Thanksgiving and next.  

Because...

His love endures forever.

And I know He loves our kids in Thailand.  And I know He'll bring us home.

Just to be clear, our extended time last year up at the cottage up to the end of October was, on it's own, an incredible gift.  The quiet was deeply healing.  The colour and water and sky could not help but provoke a rush of worship just by glancing out the window.  The unique opportunity to celebrate a Thanksgiving feast with our foodie cousin Janet at her well spread table was sensational.  To be cosy by the fire on those cool mornings, feeding chipmunks and blue jays well into the season, was all kinds of lovely.  And we were thankful in the midst of it.

And right now, even with all that's dauntingly before me, I am well aware of all the goodness that surrounds me.  Right here, right now, I am grateful beyond being able to fully grasp it, let along articulate it.  

Later today we will gather here, in the city, with the family members we more normally celebrate big things with.  Even in our new way of living (in a house too small for a large dining room table so we're going to be at Kristyn and Mark's) this will feel more normal.  And wonderful.  And reassuring.  

And they'll be pumpkin pie, so all is right with the world, let's just say.

Sooooo much to be grateful for.  Then and now.  Now and then.

Wild and Wide Open Thanks-Full Saturdays

I am awake and immediately awash in deep-joy-sighing gratitude.

Yes, it's thanksgiving weekend, but that's not even my first thought.

It's that wild freedom feeling of a Saturday with absolutely nothing written on the calendar!  The first one in what feels like a long, long time.  I linger in bed for many minutes more to savour it.  To let it wrap around me like an enthusiastic hug.

This space, right now, this weekend, this wide open Thanksgiving weekend, bridges a very demanding September, and the final packing and prep for my next trip to Thailand.  And it feels like someone opened the window in a room stuffy with expectations, and let all the gratitude pour in.

Yesssss!!!!!

My list of thanksgivings then (in no particular order):

• For a weekend that actually feels like a weekend.
• For the anticipation of pumpkin pie.
• For the timely and effective attention I received this week when some GI issues flared up again.
• For reassurances from both the travel clinic doctor and my own family doctor that I am cleared to go.
• For getting the final load out of the storage bin, and how that feels like the last of the to dos on the big thing that was our move.
• For the help of our strong son who took his day off to do that with his Dad.
• For being ahead of the game in preparations for teaching and preaching in Thailand.
• For being ahead of the game in gathering and packing.
• For challenging conversations about the delicate space between seeking unity and compassion, while still standing up to what's actually wrong.
• For not just having grandkids, but being able to nurture connective, unique and dynamic relationships with them.
• For lunches with steady friends who are good for the soul.
• For the cardinals in our yard.
• For the responsive generosity of long time faithful friends, and brand new interested friends in helping to meet unexpected needs at Hot Springs over the past weeks.
• For carrot cake recipes that turn out.
• For forgiveness, because who could be anything without it.
• For the anticipation of Thanksgiving Worship on Sunday.

 

And I could go on and on and on.

But it's time to get up and do the slow and easy things there are to do, and immerse myself in the day.

Thankiest of Thanksgivings to you, friends!

Wishing you long lists of your own.

Sports Fan Wannabes

 Can't help myself this morning.

Go Jays Go!

Apparently the Jays, Leafs and Raptors all won their games last night.  It's a very good day to be from Toronto.  

Confession though:  Both Ken and I wouldn't call ourselves sports fans....until any specific Toronto Team gets close to something big.  Ken's even wearing his Jays jersey this morning.  

And the sun is shining!  And it's fresh out there!  And Thanksgiving weekend is on its way.

Seems like a good time to list the gratitudes.  Which I will.  For tomorrow morning, if all goes well with meetings and the like today.  So very much to be grateful for.

The Plenty

Feeling fall and feeling fresh.  Lovely walk this morning.  Thanksgiving weekend is almost here.

Just a simple word of encouragement and cheer this morning.  A reminder, maybe, as we gather around a table with family or friends in the days to come.

"He has not left Himself without a testimony:

He has shown kindness by giving you rain from heaven

and crops in their seasons:

He provides you with plenty of food

and fills your hearts with joy."

Acts 14:17

Gratitude always.

And can I just say, 

as I make my list of thankful things, 

you my friends of wide community,

are beautiful.  

Tuesday's Moody Turning

I miss the kayak, now that we've closed the cottage.  But this long stretch of vibrant weather has made the morning walk a beautiful thing, even in the city.

These pictures are from yesterday's daybreak stroll.  Beauteous.  Cool enough in the morning to be fresh, before the lingering summer heats things up.  That's the way it's been, more or less, for the past several days.  

No sunshine this morning.  In fact, they are calling for rain.

I'm actually okay with it, and am even hoping for rain today.  It's been a long hot summer, and I guess I'm with the ground, waiting for in the relief of precipitate blessing.  And when it comes we'll all say to each other "We really needed this."  

Besides all that, a rainy day makes the kind of work I need to be doing right now - packing, prepping, thinking through all the lists in anticipation for an upcoming trip to Thailand - more cozy, more focused.  A quieter space to concentrate maybe.  Glad I don't have to be anywhere today.  Just all safe and dry, inside, doing my thing, and feeling grateful.

If it gets as cold as they say it will, I will be grateful for that too.  I'm a summer girl.  But even for me, a crisper feel is welcome eventually.  Reminds me of my Mom, who couldn't wait for the weather to turn, and then, that first energy-restoring frost of the season.  Mom was more of a winter girl.  Me, not so much, generally speaking.  Even so, today's likelihood of rain, and the predicted temperature dip is welcome.

It's common, of course, for folks to feel differently about different kinds of weather; for hours of daylight, or varying temperatures, or the sound of the wind and rain, and perhaps especially extreme weather to nudge us towards certain moods.   

We often enough use weather metaphors to describe our feelings.  "Rainy day blues."  "You are my sunshine."  "Under the weather." "A breath of fresh air."

And what a crazy incredible thing, I think to myself as I sit here and write this, that my life is such right now that I can talk about the weather and how it makes me feel.  That my circumstances are such that a Tuesday turn in the weather, can prompt a conversation.  I do not take it for granted, this space in my story where life is this 'every day.'  Not boring, not at all.  Not without issues and concerns, certainly.  And I process all the big bad things going on globally as best I can, and am not unaware of how far away things affect those I love right here.

But mostly, in the 'normal' mapping out of a week, a month, life is steady, solid, unfolding fairly quietly.  For now.  That can change, I know.  

I know what it's like to have no head space for weather talk at all.  To be oblivious to the sunshine or the rain, either way, because you're right in the middle of a different kind of storm, and you are holding on, or climbing out, or just white-knuckle surviving.  I've been there, where my 'mood' is so much more complicated than the weather forecast.  

So for today, when my thoughts are simply on the weather, I will revel in more than just the rain.

Today's blessing then, comes in the form of lyrics written by a Quaker named Joseph Brackett (1797-1892).  May it be your gift today, whatever today is turning out to be for you.  

Even if you don't know the tune, it helps if you picture something like a square dance going on.

Edit:  At the recommendation of my daughter, here is a link  to a rendition by Alison Krauss and Yo Yo Ma.  Enjoy.

‘Tis the gift to be simple, ’tis the gift to be free
‘Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gain’d,
To bow and to bend we shan’t be asham’d,
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning we come ’round right.

‘Tis the gift to be loved and that love to return,
‘Tis the gift to be taught and a richer gift to learn,
And when we expect of others what we try to live each day,
Then we’ll all live together and learn to say,

When true simplicity is gain’d,
To bow and to bend we shan’t be asham’d,
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning we come ’round right.

Public Domain.