One ordinary life....One extraordinary God.

To mark a moment
To celebrate and embrace the past
To move forward into the future with God-confidence
To thank the many astonishing people of my life
To be commissioned and set aside in a public sort of way

On Saturday, January 16, 2010
at a service held at Highview Community Church, Kitchener
at 2:30 p.m.
I am being Ordained.

This is an open invitation to all who would like to celebrate that with me.

Pretending to be Mary

Just the other day my granddaughter Abby came around the corner with her hair a tousled, wondrous mess. Her mother, like most, values tidy hair, and asked Abby how she came to be so unkempt. Abby replied, matter of factly, "I had a blanket on my head." When asked why, she smiled and said, "I was pretending to be Mary."

We've been telling the Christmas story at our house, so it's not at all surprising. After all, every one of the three "Marys" in our three different play set nativities all have the traditional, ancient near eastern head covering for the figure representing the Mother of Christ. So if Abby were to engage in imaginative play, enacting the story for herself, it follows that she would try to imitate Mary with a blanket on her head.

I suppose it's not all that surprising, either, that she would choose Mary as her point of identification. Her own Mommy is the "centre of all things", typical for a three year old, and Mary is the Mommy. And a baby was born at her house not all that long ago, and Mary is the one having the baby. If you string together all the three year old logic, a blanket on your head makes perfect sense.

Now, I haven't been three in oh, 49 years, but still, I think in a way, around this time of year, I tend to walk around in my own head sort of "pretending to be Mary." I do. If I re-enact the story and try to bend my brain around her place in it all, it gives me lots to play with in my soul. Play with, ponder, meditate, wonder at.

That statement holds me every time I read it.

"I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered. "May it be to me as you have said." (Luke 1:38)

Go ahead God, with preposterous thing You've just told me. This idea You've got that I would carry Your Son, Your very Self inside of me. Go ahead and change everything I had planned. All my dreams and thoughts about my own life. Take me, my body, my promised marriage, my future, my entire life. It's all Yours. Because I am Your servant.

Yes, she said that!

As someone who has come to understand how desperately I need Jesus, I am speechless with gratitude that Mary said it. That Mary did it. That Mary laid aside everything of herself to bring Jesus to me. What a warrior woman you were!

I want to pretend to be Mary. To say what she said and be willing to give everything over. To relinquish it all, all of it, so God can do what He's got in mind through me, if He should choose. I want to pretend to be Mary.

It's remarkable really, that such a young girl would be given this preposterous responsibility - to bring the Saviour to the world. In my pretending, in my identification meditations, I'm sure she did not feel at all up to it. "How can this be?" she asks, confused. "Who, me?"

I ask it too. How could I, even if I'm willing, possibly be up to the task? In my own way, in my own life, if I'm to bring Jesus to others, I am so not up for it.

I get tired. I get cranky. I get selfish. I let the worries get the better of me. I fail to trust, I fail to rest, I fail to love. I overbook my life and leave little room for those I love to enter into my heart-space without feeling like an unwelcome intruder midst all the things I have to "do".

Bring the love and life of Jesus to the world? Who, me?

But it's not me really. Not at all. "The power of the Most High with overshadow you," the angel said. Overshadow. That means "be more than", "eclipse", "take it far further than you ever could." That's what the power of the Most High can do.

So I pretend. I pretend to be Mary and offer myself, as tired and cranky and selfish and worried and driven and loveless as I tend to be at times. I pretend to be Mary, as small and helpless as I feel most of the time. I pretend to be Mary, and ask God to overshadow me in any meager attempt to offer Christ to my world.

Go ahead God, with preposterous thing You've just told me. This idea You've got that I would carry Your Son, Your very Self inside of me. Go ahead and change everything I had planned. All my dreams and thoughts about my own life. Take me, my body, my promised family, my future, my entire life. It's all Yours.

Because I am Your servant.

I'm just here, with a blanket on my head.....pretending.

An Open Christmas Letter to Highview Community Church

December 10, 2009

Dear Friends who are Family,

A winter sunrise is a spectacular gift.

Over a cold, sepia horizon, comes a silent explosion of colour, screaming a defiant warmth across the brittle sky. A new dawn. A new day. A new promise into which God's new-every-morning mercies can pour away the darkness of our complicated and messy ways of being human.

That first new morning after that unbelievable night in the stable, I imagine the sunrise over Bethlehem was like that; defiant and merciful. The eternal plans of a God of covenantal connection were in full swing. The sky screamed it. The earth received it. The universe vibrated with it.

From now on, no matter how complicated and messy it got, the darkness couldn't win. God wins. Jesus is here. Everything is new. A new dawn. A new day. A new promise into which God's unspeakable mercy and grace can pour into the hearts of humanity; all who would seize it.

It is truly humbling to be part of the vibrating gathering of humanity that calls itself Highview; to journey with you, to get tired with you, to serve in the intensity of the battle with you, to laugh and rest with you, to love you. To watch you, collectively and as individuals, allow God to press and direct and change and transform. To be given the great gift of your companionship and support through personal losses, challenges, opportunities and celebrations. You are like a winter sunrise to me -- a truly spectacular gift of grace and hope and promise.

As we head into a future of hopeful change and untapped potential -- particularly as it pertains to the expansion of this physical property God has entrusted to us, and all the ways that connects with our vision going forward -- I hope you know first that I love you, and second that I totally believe in you. Honestly, my heart can hardly hold how much I am grateful for you all. And I am fully convinced that God has given us everything we need to succeed in the Five Year Plan as He directs...all the way!!! We have astonishing things ahead for us.

On behalf of Ken and myself, I want to wish you a hushed and holy Christmas season, and a year full of the defiant mercy of a God who can take you all the way.

Ever Grateful,

Ruth Anne

Advent Subtraction

I want to do stockings again this year.

We'd sort of let that fun, first morning tradition lapse at our house for the past few years. But this year - O glorious morning of wonder - there will be a full house waking up together, complete with the not-so-sleepy eagerness of little children to rouse us from our beds and drag us downstairs way too early and just in time.

So already, I'm collecting to stuff the stockings. Adding to the items. Gathering, piling, stashing.

And....subtracting. Adding to the trinkets. Subtracting to the "needed things" to do between now and Christmas. The last thing I want to happen is a last minute, thoughtless cramming. There's nothing worse than last minute, thoughtless cramming at Christmas.

Stockings.

Souls.

And it takes some subtraction to make it happen. What will I NOT do this Christmas in order to make it holy and hushed and real? Not just for me, inside of me, but for my family.

It's the calendar that gets the first purging. The calendar - my friend and foe, all in one fell swooping buzz of it. What will I NOT write there, so Christmas can be holy and hushed and real?

Then the budget. What will I NOT buy, so Christmas can be holy and hushed and real?

Then my preoccuative brain space. What will I choose NOT to think about, dwell on, mull over, worry about, feel sorry for myself for, so that Christmas can be holy and hushed and real?

How can I make sure that what I truly value and love and live for is properly celebrated this season? The holy things. The hushed things. The real things.

If stockings are important, then how do I do the Advent Subtraction to make it so?
And my people. If loving them is important....

And if perhaps one of the best things I can give to those I love is my passionately relaxed and full attention...what Advent Subtraction do I need to be sure is done, so that I can be fully present this Christmas?

And then, just now, it strikes me. What profound Advent Subtraction had to happen for Jesus to come and be fully present with us? All that He did NOT do or demand or collect for Himself in order to move from Heaven to Earth. Instead He "emptied Himself" (Philippians 2:5-11) totally. One giagantic cosmic taking away from....so Christmas could happen....

Holy...Hushed....Real.

Thoughts on Thinking

Some quotes from stuff I'm reading right now that's "informing my thinking".

From The Rest of God by Mark Buchannan

"The wisdom of the wise is to give thought to their ways. They think about where they're going. But the folly of fools is deception. They keep lying to themselves.

"Wise people ask, Does this path I'm walking lead to a place I want to go? If I keep heading this way, will I like where I arrive?.....Consider your thoughts and attitudes, the pattern of them, their shape and drift. Are they leading you where you want to go? Plot their trajectory: will they lead you in a place you care to live?....Invite the Spirit to search you (Psalm 139:23-24) and reveal one habitual thought, one attitude of your heart, that is misleading you." Page 40-41

From God is Closer Than You Think by John Ortberg

"In reality, each thought we have carries with it a little spiritual power, a tug toward or away from God. No thought is purely neutral.

"Every thought is either enabling and strengthening you to be able to cope with reality to live a kingdom kind of life, or robbing you of that life. Every thought is -- at least to a small extent -- God-breathed or God-avoidant; leading to death or leading toward life." Page 90

This week, I've done what Buchannan suggested. Asked God to show me, and He has. It's quite amazing to sit back and take stock of what's going on in my brain most of the time. Even when I'm not really aware of it. Humbling, sobering. And I'm asking myself the hard questions. Am I headed where I want to live? Where do I want to live? Not in negativity and insecurity, that's for sure. But too often that's where my train of thought is chugging. The scenery that flashes past as the train speeds along is dreary, sad, black and white. Is this really where I want to go?

And then, Ortberg's idea...that each thought takes us in a kind of direction. Do my thoughts strengthen and enable me to live the life God has called me to?

Sometimes it's essential to get off the train. Catch another one in the other direction. Let the spiritual power of my thoughts push me, pull me toward brighter things, powerful things, things God has dreamed for me, planned long ago for me to be, for me to do.

Joyful thinking.
Saturday morning cuddle with a pj'd three year old who's conversation is simple and unfettered and full of unconditional love for sleepy, Saturday morning Gramma.
Being part of a community marking a move of God-like porportions in the life of a rescued treasure.
Napping.
Out with friends who give to combined kingdom efforts, at great personal cost.
God breathes Himself into every moment.

Taking every thought captive.
Thinking.

Everlasting Otherness

Before the mountains were born
or you brought forth the earth and the world,
from everlasting to everlasting you are God.
Psalm 90:2

I have recently inherited a great gift. A dearest friend has relinquished into my care his entire professional library. I'm not kidding! We're talking lots of dollars and hours of reading and study in commentaries, contemporary issues, classics and "new" classics. I am in agony. So many books, so little time! I'm fantasizing about shelving.

Besides the deep gratitude that comes with such a gift, I am impressed with a daunting sense of how small is my brain. Just sorting through this treasure will take hours, let alone any concept of being able to read and absorb all the knowledge that is written in the bizillions of words contained between the covers.

Okay, I know. I'm not supposed to actually read them all. Lots of what I am now desperately trying to find shelf space for is meant to provide research information to facilitate further learning (yes, I will graduate one day!) and hopefully offer some crumbs of insight to the extremely patient people who kindly listen each week to "loaves and fishes" I bring to the pulpit Sunday after Sunday. Many of the books will be for sharing with fellow-journeyers as we explore ideas and attitudes and issues together. Others will provide timely quotes from smarter brains and deeper souls.

But still. The sheer volume of the volumes is mind numbing.

Reminds me of infinity even though it's hardly close.

Right now I have the happy task of pondering such things as the creation of the universe. Highview is making our way through a six week series in Genesis; creation, beginnings, patriarchs, all of that. So again this morning, already starting the very early hours, I've been meditating, reading and thinking - confronted again with the sheer volume of the volume of God.

He's endless words of everlasting otherness, my God. His ideas and phrases and paragraphs have no beginning and no end. He keeps on writing and composing the story - my story, your story, His story - history, breathing His life into every understanding, every scene. And He writes Himself into the drama of it all. Composer and principle player. But in some crazy way, He lets me - and you - be the star.

The night I received the books, I sat under the stars with my friend for a bit and we talked for a long time. God is in everything, we decided, having contemplated the clear October sky and the dramatic events of our lives as friends these past two years. We spotted Him everywhere in the story, even in the acts where He's offstage, so to speak, hidden, but Present. And it goes on and on. From everlasting to everlasting. And the friendship itself sat still in the Everlasting Otherness.

I think there is a library in Heaven. I do. And I think that's where I'll find the time, finally, to read all the books. And I think that's when so much time will still never be enough for so much God.

Today Was 30 K!

I just counted.

This morning I swam kilometer 30!

My "swim to Thailand" is almost over. Friday morning will be the last of this particular fundraising event. I had promised to swim 30 k between September 1 and October 16 and....I did it!

No ice caps the whole time, I promise.

And I just counted something else. My total raised in $1,830.90! There's still a ways to go to be able to send the total amount of $8,000.00 to Asia's Hope for Suradet and the Hot Springs family for the truck.....but honestly? I'm just grateful to be able to send this much.

I am so grateful to the friends who have supported me in this. I appreciate so much your hearts for the kids in Thailand who will benefit from this gift. There is something very good, holy even, that happens when we spread around the good things God has given us to benefit others. It's the "conduitivity" we were talking about on Sunday morning. One of the three prevailing attitudes required to develop a robust gratitude, 1) inventority - taking stock, 2) humility - being appropriately small, and 3) conduitivity - passing it on. (I just love making up words :)

Three more swims. I'll keep swimming though.

It's good for me. Quiets my soul first thing in the morning.