God Keep Our Land

 

Georgian Bay Sky

(near to Giant's Tomb Island)

PRAYERS FOR CANADA DAY - JULY 1, 2026

Sovereign Lord we praise You for the blessing it is to live in Canada.  

We do not take this lightly.  

,

Beyond all the astonishing natural beauty and bountiful resources of our great country, which would be enough all by itself, we are inexpressibly grateful for our freedoms and privileges as citizens.  There ae so many places in the world right now where this is not so.   We know this.  Don't let us forget it.

We ask on behalf of all our  leaders in all levels of government and civil life.  They carry heavy weight and face enormous challenges as they seek to serve us.  There are difficult, seemingly impossible global and national realities to navigate right now; decisions to be made with huge and far-reaching implications.  Please grant wisdom and humility and clarity to those who broker our well-being.

We ask that all Christians in places of influence within government, education and medicine, be given an extra measure of your grace and humility.  They are so often faced with ethically impossible decisions.  Help them not only represent the constituents they serve, but You, and Your gospel of peace and redemption.

O Lord, we cry out on behalf of our First Nations brothers and sisters.  Grant healing and resilience and grace.  May we remember that we are all Treaty people.  May we respond with less words, more compassion, more action.

And for Your Church here in Canada, oh that may we act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with You, according to Micah 6:8!  Please help us get over ourselves.  Call out the better ways of Jesus in us.  Help us to choose to represent You well and honestly with truth and grace in equal measure.  May we love each other deeply as a witness to the world that we are Your disciples, and that You, Jesus, were Who You said You were and are.

Keep our land, oh God.  Hold on to us, and don't let go.

It's Monday, Summer's A-Comin'

 

With this being the view from my workstation, who can complain about a Monday morning?  Actually, Mondays are one of my favourite days in any work-week situation (I'm weird like that, but I'm also a morning person, so there's that).  But this....plus my little friends?  I mean, come on.  Inspiration and quiet productivity are just built into the deal.

I've also been able to capture a picture of the other bird who's built a nest under our eves off to the side a little.

The ap on my phone identifies this as a phoebe, further confirmed by the characteristic 'pumping of the tail.'  Oh so much more cautious!  It's taken me a long time to be able to even get any photo at all, let alone one that could identify her. But I think she's figuring out how to take care of her brood with me here on the deck.  Of interest, I'm noticing that I can tell which bird has recently landed nearby just by the sound of their wings.  It's different for the blue jay, jenny wren, and phoebe.  Of course, should the blue heron drop by there's no doubt who's making that falomp-falomp of an entrance!

Of course I have to mention my chipmunk friends as well.  I've counted as many as five on the deck at the same time.  Make that six.  Another one just showed up.  Word's gotten out.

Okay, enough visiting over breakfast.  Time to get at it.  Working from home was never so good.  I've got a satisfying list before me, all fresh and unchecked and waiting.  Later my accompanist (guitar) for the children's story/song on Sunday is coming by for a mini rehearsal.  Should be fun.

And later, yes, it sounds like summer might show up after all.  We have the fans ready, and lots of ice in the freezer.  Of course, it's always a little cooler here by the water, and the famous Georgian Bay breezes are so welcome on the hot days.

Stay cool and delighted everyone.  Hope you have AC if you need it.  Hope you have sweet friends to keep you company.  Hope the week starts off in a way that's all ready for summer!

The Boat that Came Back

 

This will be a simple story of faith in humankind.

Opening weekend at the cottage - this year for us it was a May 22 to 25 extended weekend - has many tasks.  That's why we conscript the strong backs of family members to come along and help make it happen.  

One of the tasks that got done that weekend was carrying our small runabout boat out from the boathouse and onto the dock.  Next step would be to put on the motor and put it in the water, as seen here in a picture from last year.  But we didn't get to it.  No worries.  It was up safely on the black dock and would be fine until we came back to stay in two weeks.

That's what we thought.

After our return, it took us a few days to even notice it was missing.  We're used to seeing the dock empty as well as with a boat parked on top.  And the flurry of opening can be distracting.  So it's understandable.  But that week, after a heavy rain when Ken felt he should go over to bail it out....it wasn't there.

The boat itself isn't any great thing.  It was purchased by Ken's Grandmother in 1955, he thinks, so it's rocking 70 years old.  It's of standard design, well-made, been painted more times than we can remember, and has had the seats replaced a few times too.  Last year we purchased a new motor for this boat, with the hopes that this year we could begin some decent lessons for the younger ones.  So, no great thing, but pretty special to us.

There's an unspoken Cognashene code up here.  Nobody bothers your property.  Call it a throw back to simpler times when decent honest living and the trust that arises from that was a real thing.  But honestly, any reports of stolen items or break and enters are largely unheard of up here.

I will say that we did have an antique cedar canoe get lifted from the old boathouse that year we couldn't put the door on the large front opening properly, and you could see in.  We figured it was too much of a temptation for some eager collector with an apparently underdeveloped conscience.  But other than that, no problem.

We considered whether or not we should notify the police.  We also considered whether it actually just blew off the dock -- no one could remember tying it down -- and floated along the channel somehow.  We did a quick cruise back and forth but didn't see anything.  Then we had to come back to the city, and decided to pick things up when we got back.  

Except when we got back....

...there she was, in all her glory.  Someone had taken the time and the effort not just to bring our boat back to our dock, but to drag it right up onto the rocks and tie it up properly, which is what we should have done in the first place.

So cedar canoes notwithstanding, perhaps there is no throw back.  Maybe it's all still happening now.  Maybe, obviously, common decency and human goodness is still very much a thing.

Of course it is.

And of course we all have a part in making it so.

So a big, big thank you to the kind person who returned out boat.  I'm hoping to spread the word around here to see if we can discover who it was so as to say a proper thank you.  Might even make a big sign and just attach it to the boat, hoping whoever it was drives by and knows how much we appreciate it.

Here's to kids' boating lessons this summer!

Here's to securing your boat properly!

Here's to the basic decency in human hearts that makes the world so much of a better place!

Rationing the Chia Seeds

 

"Teach us to number our [chia seeds] 

so that we may gain a heart of wisdom."

Psalm 90:12 

Standard Cottage Translation

Three things to know for what's to follow.

One is that we are on an island and that means groceries and supplies have to be carefully anticipated.  There's no running out to quickly fetch something.

The second is that, with the price of gas so volatile right now, we have promised ourselves to be extra prudent in how many trips back and forth to the marina we're going to make.  So it's that much more important to think carefully through any shopping list.

The third is that due to some recent necessary dietary changes, I have added chia seeds to my regular intake (emphasis on 'regular').

Truth be told, I had no idea you could add chia seeds to so many things, and that they had such a repertoire of results.  I won't go into all their benefits here; you can check it out with a quick Google search if you're interested.  Let's just say that chia seeds are now a regular item on our grocery list.  Not only are they included in my morning protein smoothie, but they add a fun texture to this chia seed chocolate pudding that is super easy to make and loaded with other good things like yogurt, avocado, banana, turmeric and honey (full recipe on request).  It's now my go-to desert.

We had lots up here, I thought.  But when Ken did a quick (necessary) trip back to KW last weekend, I asked him to stop by Bulk Barn (best bang for your buck on chia seeds) and bring back a bag-full to replenish my stock.  Which he did.  And then, as often happens, they got left behind in the van.  He remembers having to re-sort a bag to make something fit better....and that's it.

Our next scheduled trip off the island isn't until July 2nd or 3rd.  Everything else has been stocked up.  So, because of our determination not to make unnecessary trips back and forth, and because I still do have some chia seeds, and because I don't mind a challenge, I am now into day four of seeing if I can make this work.

It's kind of fun.  You look at something quite differently when you believe it to be scarce.  You measure more carefully, plan more specifically, and relish or at least appreciate every portion dolled out.  It's not the first time I've noticed this up here.  Shampoo, milk, toilet paper, peanuts for the chipmunks...whatever it is, if you're running out, you're just that little bit more mindful. 

Of course the best thing is when you apply your years of cottage wisdom and stock up on everything, like, all the time, which is usually what we do, sure.  But every once in a while you don't catch it, forget to put something on the list, or leave a bag in the van.  At least this time it wasn't anything spoilable.

Okay, confession, but you already caught this, so, for what it's worth.  The original Hebrew text for Psalm 90:12 does not contain the words 'chia seeds.'  It's 'days,' as in days of our life.  And now the chia seeds themselves are but an echo of a much greater thing; the gift that is each moment "we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17:28).

Not for me, but for someone I deeply care about, this is much more real than the threat of running out of a needed grocery item.  Diagnoses with estimated life spans attached to them can really mess with your head, unless you tune your heart.  If you do, if you can, like my friend has been able to, every day becomes a cherished thing, the way it should be for all of us, but just that much more beautifully real for some.  This I have found to be true when facing my own oh-so-much-less-serious-but-with-some-long-painful-nights health issues.  In the middle of the suffering is where cherished things become more astounding.

I am not to the point of counting out my chia seeds one by one, which would be ridiculous.  But I am grateful for these tiny reminders that help me stop and marvel at every good thing that fills --

Wait.  Ken's just come in to tell me something ---

He says he's surprised and somewhat distraught to discover that he has only four days of Coke left!!!  Previously planned departure is eight days out.  He's just announced that, in order to prevent an emergency situation of catastrophic proportions, we're going into town, likely Sunday.

Which means I can fetch my chia seeds.

And thus endeth the lesson.

In the Moments

"If you look at little kids and wild animals,
these are two groups of things that 

whenever I'm with them 

forces me to be in the moment."
Dominic Monaghan

Two slightly unusual and also sweet interactions with critters happened yesterday.  I make no apologies whatsoever for my Disney-princess vibe here, just sayin.'

One was with a chipmunk who literally came and greeted me, seemed excited to see me even, as I finished my paddle around the island and came back to the dock.

Of course I had no peanuts with me, so the encounter ended up being just a friendly hello, and no picture because I really didn't think of it, just being in the moment as I was.  Still, he did stay with me on the dock, up close and personal, and impossibly cheerful, while I tied up and put away my paddle.  Then off he bounded along the rocks on his way to find breakfast on his own.

First time that's ever happened, down on the dock, I mean.

The second interaction was more of a sighting really.

Two brand new jenny wrens left their nest and rested on the deck railing just for a bit before flying off into their grown up lives.

I stopped everything, just to be in this moment with them.  Leaving the nest day?!!!   I believe this deserves a teeny bit of pomp and circumstance!

I had the presence of mind for pictures this time, since every graduation needs some.  These were taken through the window from a respectful distance.  I didn't dare step out onto the deck proper and risk frighting them off to the rocks below before they were actually ready to take flight.

This is unusually unusual in that we have jenny wrens every single year in one or both of the birdhouses that are fixed onto the front and side of the cottage.  Their chirping call is among the first noises of the morning at sunrise.

Every single year I am aware of the nest-building that begins almost as soon as we get here.  Every single year it's obvious when the eggs have hatched because both Mom and Dad, in a very equal kind of parenting partnership, make constant trips with juicy, squirming insects in their beaks.  Shortly after that, every single year, we are treated with the excited signature chirping, as the new hatchlings grow strong enough to be heard, a little louder every day.  

But, every single year up until now, one day it all just stops.  All the activity ends, and the birdhouse is quiet.  Everyone's gone.

I have never seen any of the babies depart.  Until now.

And it was the first time I was ever greeted back from my time in the kayak by a chipmunk on the dock.

So it was a happy day of little critter encounters.  Somewhat unique ones on this day, yes, but actually a feature in some form every day here.  Someone pays a visit and I learn something new, spending the moment, being in the moment with them.  

There.  All sappy and Disney-princess-like, like I said.  

Dominic Monaghan, by the way, is the actor who portrayed Merry in the film adaptation of Lord of the Rings (2001), just so you know.

Wishing you sappy, informative, randomly cute moments to be in today, however they might happen for you.

Patterns

 

Listen, my son (or daughter) to your father's instruction

and do not forsake your mother's teaching.

They are a garland to grace your head

and a chain to adorn your neck.

Proverbs 1:8-9

A saw horse is a handy thing up here, given how much of our own firewood we glean from naturally fallen trees on the property.  Not to mention dock building, and other repairs, and upgrades that require some carpentry.

We've had one or two up here since before I can remember.  Ken says his Dad built them back in the day.  One has fallen apart long ago, and the other was not looking so good either.  So, using left over new lumber from building the bunkie, Ken followed the same basic pattern as his Dad's sawhorse and built a new one.  Not exactly the same, but pretty close, just with new material.

Makes sense to use the same basic pattern.  The old one was sturdy and served the family well for probably close to 80 years now.  The structure and design were obviously solid.  We'll engrave 2026 on this one and see how long it lasts.  Or at least, our grandchildren will.

It strikes me that this is basically what parenting is.  Providing enduring instruction and structure that can be replicated; patterns for living that the next generation can build on.

I will say here what can't be a surprise because it's just everyone's truth; our parents weren't perfect.  And while the sawhorse lasted and is worthy of repeating, not everything, on both sides of our family, was.  But there were enough good things passed along to make me take another look at Proverbs 1:8-9 and be grateful for what's been handed down to me...and also, to be soberly reminded.

The intent of the entire book of Proverbs is a common ancient near eastern genre of writing where a parent, most usually a father, collects his life's lessons in a volume to pass along to his children, usually the first born son.  (In that, it is good to note that the author's mention of references to the child's mother was quiet 'inclusive' for its day.)  So the intended audience, then, is the next generation.  

But the implied corollary to this, and here's where I am soberly reminded, is that the father and mother must have something of worth to pass along.  A sawhorse pattern, if you will, that's going to be solid and long lasting.

Believe me, yes, I know, there's enough parental guilt flying about the cosmos at any given time to crush us all.  I do not intend to add any more.  And there's so many ideas and opinions and models of and about raising children to flabbergast the best intentioned among us.  I will not attempt to push for my own.  

What comes to me these days, instead, as I approach 70, and as I realize more and more that my opportunity to build any kind of legacy to leave anyone grows short, is how essential it is to first be teachable myself if I assume to teach; to be grounded in a secure sense of myself, if I'm going to try to come alongside another in the process of their own identity formation.  

I wonder, then, if the best gift I can offer my children and grandchildren, and anyone else I may have any instructive role whatsoever, is ongoing and life-giving practices of spiritual formation that will aid me as I seek to cooperate with the work of God's Spirit within me.  The inner work that will ground me.

What patterns do I want to leave behind?

At my age, these would be patterns already evident in my own becoming.

I had better make sure they are worth handing down.

Of course, just like Ken used new wood to build the new sawhorse, and also adjusted the structure slightly, my kids and grandkids will find their own building materials, and remake things that best help to forge their own lives.  Just like Ken's new sawhorse, while bearing some resemblance, looks very different than his Father's, so the next generation will construct new ways of thinking and loving and living out what God directs them to do and be.  I celebrate that.

But there's a pattern.

Something to build on.

Something worthy of replication.

At least, I hope so.

The Sound of Wordless Worship

 But ask the animals, and they will teach you, 

or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you; 

or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, 

or let the fish in the sea inform you. 

Which of all these does not know 

that the hand of the Lord has done this? 

Job 12:7-10

Sunday on my own.

A seldom-solitude breathes worship into all the little spaces,

making the day 'more' somehow,

right from the get go.

I am eager to learn.

Early on the deck,

then out on the water.

Otters, a deer, several ducks, a large turtle.

They all know.

So do the blue jays,

but let's face it.

They're here mostly for the peanuts.

I say nothing.

I sing nothing.

I am here to learn.

Teach me,

inform me.

I want to know what you know.

A wordless worship in sounds magnificent;

the language of those who know.

One Man's Trash, Another Man's Glory

 

Here's an interesting discovery.  An old bottle left on the ground out back of the cottage has turned itself into a very pretty little terrarium.

Ken's family has owned the place for over a hundred years, so it's not uncommon for us to find antique glassware here and there, mostly inside on the shelves of forgotten corners in the older buildings.  But sometimes, alas, scattered in various places on the property.  

This, however, is a first.  

I couldn't help but think this is what it's like when human carelessness, disrespect or negligence is somehow transformed into life and growth and joy.  It's a defiant thing, all growing and green regardless.

Paul wrote:

We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance, perseverance character, and character hope."  Romans 5:3-5

Here's to the finding of forgotten things full of hope.

The Treasury of a Legit Rainy Day

 The LORD will open to you His good treasury,

the heavens, to give to your land in its seasons,

and to bless all the work of your hands.

Deuteronomy 28:12

The whole time we've been up here the weather has been a tad off and on.  June has not yet produced a long string of summery days, although we've had the fans going the odd day here and there.  And also, no string of rainy days exactly, either.   We've had rainy periods, afternoons or mornings.  And then some really cold mornings as low as 9 C.  But much of it has been 'variable.'  Variable clouds, variable showers, variable temps, cloudy with sunny breaks, just here and there.

Today I want to call this a legit rainy day.  And while there's still periods where it stops for a while, and the next round of showers seem to be just warming up, mostly there's been that lovely cottage rainy day vibe.

There's something about hearing it on the roof first thing in the morning that sends the universal signal of approval to sleep in just a little bit.  And now the fire's on, not because it's all that cold, but just because it chases away that damp feeling, and no one is complaining about the added level of cozy.

Drops on the windows.  Little puddles on the deck.  You can see the rain on the water. Everything hushed under the sound of it.  

My otter friends don't mind the rain.  They dropped by, the three of them, for the first time, to say hello and sample our reeds, and fish a little between our dock and the shoal.

Abby was able to catch them in a rare moment when all were surfaced and looking at her in the same direction.  I call them Larry, Curly and Moe.  And unless someone can tell me that otters usually travel in packs of three, I'm going to claim that these are the same three silly dudes that have visited before, and even accompanied me part way around the island some mornings in the kayak.

The blue jays don't mind the rain either, apparently.  They arrive on the deck railing right in front of where I'm sitting, wondering if there are any peanuts to be had today.  But no.  As cute as you are, I'm staying indoors today.  Try again tomorrow.  

I'm glad for the rain for the blueberries' sake.

So much potential, and a few patches that are 'new' this year, in that there are green berries on plants that haven't been fruit-bearing before.  Looking good so far, but it can all change depending on the rain between now and mid July.  So bring it on.

A day to bake cookies.  That's just a given.  No pictures yet because that's what I'll be doing next.  After this.  Because the morning was spent in quiet concentrated work at the computer, looking out at it all, enjoying the cozy work vibe happening here on a rainy day.

I am receiving the blessing of Deuteronomy 28:12 this day.  Just...receiving it.

And spreading it out to you, wherever you are, raining or not.

Everywhere

 

He has made everything beautiful in its time.

He has also set eternity in the human heart;

yet no one can fathom what God has done

from beginning to end.

Ecclesiastes 3:11

We're back in the city over the weekend due to the fact that, while we may be ready for cottage life, city life isn't ready to release us just yet.  Important events and meetings in ways important to be present are reason enough to stop back in and check out what's going on in Kitchener.

It's a beauty day already with a few friends joining me on the walk this morning.

And fresh blooms along the way as well, basking in the morning light in a way that captures them more vividly, even in the softness of the rising sun.

I'm glad for a few little surprises in our own garden too.

Things that weren't in bloom just six days ago when we left.

My files are loaded with pictures just like these, but I can't seem to help myself.  

The contrast between being in the city and being on an island is striking, and yesterday's sunrise rainbow at the cottage, breath-taking.  Honestly, any pictures I took did not do justice to the magnificence of just standing small and humbled under that wide, bold sky.

But I find, as I go back and forth, that there's beauty everywhere if you're just looking for it.

Mind you, we have these amazing trails here close to the house, and a little culvert of running water (look away from the graffiti), and we aren't exactly downtown in a busy metropolis (mind the hydro towers), but still.  

And, for me at least, it is a connection with the Creator, a defining of the Divine.  And it's everywhere.

Saturday!  We'll be stocking up on groceries and running some errands, and packing that list of things I realized we still needed at the cottage when we were there last week.  That sort of thing.

Hope it's a good one for you.  Hope there's beauty around you to notice.

The Internet and the Introvert - The Essential Need for Connection

 

"Above all, love one another deeply,

because love covers over a multitude of sins.

1 Peter 4:8

I have a clear memory of when the land line was installed here at our cottage.  And I was not happy,

We didn't own the cottage back then, but had generous use of it by the relative who did, and who also felt it was time to get connected with the outside world.  This was waaaaay before anything like the internet existed.  It's important to know that.

I was not happy because the month we spent here every July was sacred.  It was a respite, a time set apart for family only.  The isolation of an island meant no one could drop in on you unannounced.  We were secluded, and it was quiet.

All this was especially important because life and ministry, even back then, had a people intensity to it that made the time away necessary for our family's well-being and my own mental health.   I mean, if Jesus found it necessary to retreat into solitude from time to time (eg. Mark 1:35-39), how much more the introverted-yet-fully-engaged-mercy-oriented pastor?

The phone line seemed an intrusion; a way of people being able to reach me when, frankly, I did not want to be reached.  We kept the new technological advancement on the down low.  Only gave our the number to those on the need-to-know list.

That was then.  

I laugh at myself now when, due to a change with our previous server last fall, we had to switch internet providers for our connection here this spring.  That meant that for the four days we were here to open we had no connection.  And we felt it.  I felt it.  Not hugely, because it was, after all just four days.  But enough that we even delayed our arrival by a week while we waited for the proper gizmo box thing to arrive at our door back in the city before deciding it was okay to come up and step into cottage life for the season.

It's working great, by the way.  (But then you probably guessed that since you're reading this post, and I would need internet access to send it out.)  Plus there's the thing about having our phones for calls and texts, independent of internet.  And, oh yeah, we still have that land line.

I count nine different means by which I could be contacted here at the cottage.

And I'm pretty okay with all of that.  

Be completely humble and gentle;

be patient, bearing with one another in love.

Make every effort to keep the unity of

the Spirit through the bond of peace.

Ephesians 4:2-3

I still wouldn't want a barrage of messages to deal with all at once, of course.  But a lot is very different today than it was that first day they came to hook up the land line.  Mostly it's that we can be here so much longer than just one month, since, for both Ken and I, our jobs have changed dramatically, and 'work from home' can have various iterations.  Also, most of the nine different means of contact are quite less intrusive than the random, raucous ringing of a phone (the likes of which could require you have to run up from the dock to answer in time -- so annoying!).  

And surely it goes without saying that this is about so much more just the business side of things.  Yes, it's great to be able to send and receive all the emails that keep life going, to do the research and watch the video tutorials on fundraising, to check out a few online commentaries, to access those Google docs. 

But it's just as much, if not more about the fun Facebook posts, sharing sunrises and critters and views from the deck; about quick and happy chats with the grandkids, making plans for when they are here later in the summer; about Zoom conversations and prayer times; and just generally staying connected to the wide and beautiful spectrum of people God has seen fit to place in my life, and me in theirs.  

Instructions to New Testament believers (the distinction of which includes all of us today, at least that's my understanding), frequently and repeatedly include the essential need for strong and deeply loving connection.  Neither Peter nor Paul, when hand-writing their messenger-delivered, months-to-receive letter in the first century, could likely ever have imagined a system where they could have just hit 'send.'  But I think the same principles apply.  

Stay connected.  Let love be the depth of it.  Make every effort for it.   

Yes, let's just say it here, in-person, human contact is best under most normal circumstances. I need just one word to prove my point here: hugs.  

And...how fabulous is it that we have the means to keep conveying the love, and keep strengthening the connections in other ways when we aren't physically present.

That's why I haven't bailed on Facebook as of yet.  Despite the strenuous effort in tailoring my newsfeed so I am not disproportionately bad-news baited, it remains for me a compelling means by which something good and positive and perhaps even holy can be shared out into the wild space that is social media.

Which is what I hope for you this day.

That by these words, or by any other means available to you, you might be encouraged and strengthened and inspired.  That you would feel the connection of belonging, the welcome of being loved deeply.

Thursday blessings all.

Birthday Beauteous, and Benefits

Bless the LORD O my soul

and forget not all His benefits.

Psalm 103:2

My first conscious thought is that it's so so quiet, in that soul-expanding way of true silence.  And then I remember where I am.  And then I remember that it's my birthday. And it all cascades so gently from there.

First paddle around the island of the season under brilliant sky and in the company of cormorant and blue heron.  Simple breakfast on the deck that turns into something of a birthday party, with peanuts as party favours.

Chipmunks and blue jays both seem to remember us.  Oh hey, people on the deck.  Let's go check it out! Oh! It's a birthday party!  Zero coaxing for the small furry friends.  Less skittishness from the feathered ones.  Wondering if I'll actually be able to work up to having a blue jay take something from my hand by the end of the season.  

Set up my deck lounger under the umbrella and responded to birthday wishes from every way we can send these things these days; emails, texts, FB messages.  Wow and thank you.  And for all the cards too, that happened just before left and deserved a little display on this particular day.

After lunch a nap because....birthday!!!!  And then over to the other property to do some paint scraping!  Call me odd (many do), but it's one of the cottage life chores I actually find very satisfying.  And this particular paint job is long over due.

Then back for a hot-afternoon shower.  Then supper -- with cake of course!!!

After supper Ken and Abby do dishes - because it's my birthday!   And I spend unhurried time down on the boat by the water, and it's so so quiet still.  I write in my journal about not taking anything for granted, ever.  These enormous, ordinary riches I do not take lightly.

After that, we end the day with a game of Scrabble with a quiet sunset happening on the stones of the fireplace, until we need to turn on a light.  

And that was just about as perfect a birthday as I could ever have planned, which of course I didn't, so it's even more lovely that it just happened that way.  

Sixty-nine this year.  Loving the good gift of life.  

That was yesterday.  Here's how this morning started.

With this and leftover cake, can't wait to see how today unfolds!

Thursday's Thoughts

 

The LORD is good to all,

and His mercy is over all He has made.

Psalm 145:9

Looking forward to spending the day with some passionate spiritual leaders mapping out structures and strategies that support and unleash pastors and ministry organizations across Ontario and beyond.  

I'm delighted to have been welcomed onto the Board of Directors at Anchor Ministerial Fellowship last weekend at our annual Conference.  Not only is this the ministerial body with which I hold my ordination credentials, but it has become a consistent place of encouragement and accountability and support over the past 16 years.  

Just loving the early summer mericies of this week.  Many new little surprises in the garden, early morning walks with the rising sun on my face, and happy, meaningful things to be doing on any given day.  

Packing for the cottage is one of them.  Leaving Sunday afternoon if all goes well.  Brace yourselves for repeated pictures of flat water and sky and the front of my kayak in the foreground.

And oh.  How cool is it that we have a willing and able grandkid on the premises to help with some of the heavy work in building our new ramp?  This was Harvest's offering yesterday. This actually equals quite a bit of muscle power, since the spot where that dirt came from was quite compacted.  Way to go Harvest!

Sending Thursday blessings and all things positive and good into this day for you.

And if it's not positive and good for you right now, 

sending strength and resilience and love.

An Awesome Works and Great Deeds Story

Great is the LORD and most worthy of praise;

His greatness no one can fathom.

One generation commends Your works to another;

they tell of Your mighty acts.

They speak of the glorious splendor of Your majesty

-- and I will meditate on Your wonderful work.

They tell of the power of Your awesome works --

and I will proclaim Your great deeds.

Psalm 145:3-5

 

Woke up particularly grateful, energetic, and full of joy this morning.  As I was telling God all about it, and thanking Him, and even singing a little (all by myself), Psalm 145 came to mind, and I realized it is due time to 'bear testimony.'

This first week of June marks one year since the onset of some health issues that, while not entirely debilitating, have been painful and unsettling and have robbed me of my usual energies.  The problem has been with my gut, and the specific diagnosis has been diverticulitis, the details of which I shall spare you, you're welcome.  

Between May and December of 2025 I had three flare ups.  Each flare up requires a regimen of diet, medication and rest, and takes a full six weeks to recover from.  If I do the math, that's four and a half months out of the seven I was truly not myself.  Adding to the time line was a scheduled test that didn't happen until February that was in itself difficult enough to require another month of recovery.

Severe abdominal pain, persistent lack of sleep, side effects from one of the medications, and the inability to properly absorb nutrients resulted for me in a kind of fatigue and overall weakness I don't think I've experienced before.  Concentration was at a minimum many days. I felt unsafe to drive myself anywhere.  And often as not, by 10:30 in the morning I had to entertain the notion of laying down for my 'first of two or three' naps of the day.   Friends, this is just not me.

But here's where the 'awesome works' come in.

Over the past year I have also been able to:

• receive timely and attentive care from my family doctor.
• get all the medications I needed when I needed them.
• feel the tender Presence of God through some long, painful nights.
• be reminded why I memorized all those Bible verses over my lifetime.
• travel to Thailand twice during which time I was entirely asymptomatic.
• participate meaningfully in Advent and Christmas celebrations.
• participate meaningfully in Lent and Easter celebrations.
• be reminded by diet restrictions that celebrations don't have to revolve around the meal.
• spend our normal time at the cottage last summer without any health interruptions.
• fulfill all teaching and preaching assignments without health interruptions.
• have energy and concentration for a number of 'extra' leadership responsibilities.
• continue, in an adapted work rhythm, all my normal responsibilities.
• keep all promises of sleepovers and special times with grandchildren.
• figure out my diet and nutrition in ways that seem to be helpful, and are working.
• be reminded again of the patient, supportive man that is my husband.

And by now, by today, I realize that I have just pressed through almost two weeks of a demanding schedule and it has not provoked a new flare up.  That means I am now close to six months without a new episode.  That's huge all by itself.

Thank you LORD!

I am overwhelmed by Your goodness to me!

This I proclaim and bear witness to.

Of course I will continue in the news ways of diet and rest and adapted work rhythms that sustain good health overall.  Of course I am mindful that the underlying issues with my gut still need my attention, and may or may not cause problems in the future.

But today, 

this day,

this day of morning sun 

and good, good things to be doing and being

I just had to stop and say something.

Happy Wednesday to you, no matter where you are in any particular journey.

If these are difficult days, I pray for your endurance, and for hope for better days ahead.