Catching My Breath Between God-Sightings

It's been a breath-taking two days.
Back to back to back.
Conversations, meetings, visits, introductions, sessions, confrontations, Scripture.
Seems like it started first thing Wednesday morning and just wouldn't quit, right up to just before supper tonight (Thursday).

God-sightings.

Funny. I remain convinced for some reason, that I actually do have control over how any given day will go. It's an illusion, I know, utilizing the mirrors of Outlook Calendar, my Blackberry and a weekly list of what needs to be done. Yet, in the last two days so much of that list has NOT been checked off.

Today especially.

Thought it might be a great day to hunker down into my office and pull off some much needed paperwork, emails, manuscripts, and other assorted concentration-intensive aspects of what I do.

But when I first woke up this morning, following an already surprising Wednesday, I realized what was actually unfolding for the day. Seemed like it was going to involve very little office time after all. So I decided to spare myself the frustration and enjoy what God had in mind instead. Probably sounds rather obvious to you, but for me, the way I'm wired, this is a mini, in-my-head kind of miracle.

I can't really give you the play by play of these past 48 hours. The Divine would get lost in the details. But the fact is, as I moved through these two days, He breathed into all of it, every nook and cranny with a redemptive activity that was nothing short of stunning.

Not a little part of all this was a visit from Asia's Hope's incredible National Director for Thailand, Tutu Bee and her delightful husband Dan. Their stories, both as individuals and as a couple, are full of God, full of compassion, full of freedom, full of hope. It's impossible to calculate the number of lives that have been rescued from despair and degradation because of the life and legacy of Tutu. It's impossible to imagine how much more God will do through them now as a couple, seeking to serve God on behalf of children in South East Asia. The time we spent together as a church was rich, warm, gut-inspiring. Then, for me, our meals together, sharing each other with each other, was like taking a long drink on a hot dry day. My spirit is so refreshed.

On top of Tutu and Dan's visit, I've also seen

• the strength of a soul surrendered to God's sovereignty in the face of death,

• been loved in the translated words of more than a dozen hand written letters,

• been affirmed by the prayers of brother-Elders,

• been awed by the synergy of spirit-led leadership development planning,

• and watched God (was that Him grinning?) bring impossible but very welcome elephants into the room.

I drove home at the end of it full of joy and wondering at the undeserved blessings of the One who lets me do this pastoring gig - especially the part where I get to tag along to watch Him do His thing.

Tonight, I just need to be quiet, catch my breath, and wonder what's He's up to for tomorrow.

A Simple Gratitude

It's been a quiet Thanksgiving in some ways, and that's been great. Yesterday, it was "just us" [minus one and I'm letting those longings be God's deal], with all three grandchildren and a walk in the maple bush right near our house. Loved it. Gentle, together, outside with the Creator....and my family.

Shouldn't be, really. So much would have been our undoing were it not for that same Creator creating in us room for each other, and forgiveness, and acceptance. I am grateful this Thanksgiving that I have been forgiven by my children for the inadequacies of my mothering, and that by now they still love me enough to want to take a Thanksgiving walk together. So grateful for that.

I am grateful for how that love is also the connecting wire to three (so far) stellar little human beings that mystically carry some of my DNA and totally carry my heart. My gratitude for that is unspeakable.

I am grateful for a husband who has walked walks with me for 33 years plus and still serves me in his willingness to match his stride to mine, both actually and metaphorically, as we follow what has at times been a very winding life-road.

I am grateful for the harshness that's come to us in different ways, meant to break us up, but somehow having been used to bind us tight. And the missing one too. In time. I know it, because of how He's proven Himself faithful.

Simply walking in a bush together on Thanksgiving.

Redemption Song

Today I celebrate all that has been redeemed for my friend BJ. Last month marked the miracle of her first year of sobriety.

What a gift to have journied with her these past 22 years, to see how strong love is and to know such loyalty and truth from such a friend!

Blessings and strength to you, dear heart. May you press onward into all the abundance that God still longs to give you.

Best Of Both

Ken and I have been able to sneak back up to the cottage for a completely "exta bonus" three days, finishing off August in Georgian Bay style. What a gift!

It's not a holiday, per se; both of us brought work with us, and have kept in touch with faithful cohorts at home via the wonders of modern technology.

Still, writing sermons (my main objective for these days) is so inspiring in the so-quiet of a cottage morning, where my concentration is broken only by an eager visit from the chipmunk looking for breakfast, or the loud splash of that huge bass that repeatedly shows off his tricks for me.

So. Best of both worlds. It's such a happy thing to be here again, starting my morning with a cup of tea on the deck. AND it's such a happy thing to be engaged in meaningful work with sensational people and to be looking forward to all that's coming this fall.

I feel so full of blessings these days. This is not in the absence of challenge and heartbreak, both my own and the people I serve and love. The stories of our lives intertwined include difficult chapters all along the way. But there's a deeper understanding of the promised endings of things, and as I meditate on those promises, I am more and more convinced that good prevails.

I can rest in that conviction....and look out over the water or open the door to my office - either way, starting my day in confident expectation. Because God's holiness shines brilliantly into souls and out beyond time and space.

And I get to muse on these things on the dock. Quiet happiness. Gentle joy. Here and home, both feeling like home.

Best of both.
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I Like to Be Right

I didn't know this before, but apparently there's a boy's side and a girl's side to the blue plastic teeter totter in our backyard. I was informed of this little known fact by my 5 year old granddaughter, Abby, this afternoon.

She and her brother Zachary were up and downing quite successfully - part of our wonderful hours outside on this perfect long weekend - when suddenly Abby stopped the action, feet planted firmly on either side of her end.

"Wait!" she said, "We're on the wrong sides!" She said this rather decidedly, and with a clear tone of this being something that required immediate rectifying. I tried to explain that there really were no "sides" to teeter totters, but she bent her small head around to check what turned out to be a label on the one side of the toy. "There! There's the girl side and there's the boy side."

Sure enough, there was the label, showing two children, one smiling girl, and one smiling boy. And yes, Abby and Zachary were on the "wrong sides.". Well then.

Since Zachary is just two and it takes a bit more effort for him to climb on and off the teeter totter, and since we had, after all, just got started, I suggested that it really didn't matter who sat on what side, and let's just stay the way we are. But Abby was insistent. Helping Zachary do the switch, she looked at me, and said matter-of-factly, but without any cheekiness or attitude, "I like to be right."

So you do, my dear. And you come by it quite honestly, I'm afraid. First born female of a first born female of a first born female. If that's not a recipe for perfectionist tendencies, I don't know what is. Good thing both her mother and her grandmother are well aware of the dangers of our shared temperament, and have committed ourselves to the lifelong pursuit of balance, loosening the ropes, and, every once in a while and on purpose, colouring outside of the lines. And even though I am far from getting this down pat, hopefully, as Abby's personality continues to show itself, she and I can keep on learning together how to function and thrive, in health and wholeness, in a far from perfect world.

Still.....I admit to an appropriate degree of delight in her statement. Yes! Oh Honey, I like to be right too! Feels good to live in order and clarity. There's joy in truth and strength in obedience - to the right things of course. When it comes together, and there's a straightness to the path, and a goodness to the action, and a godliness to the choice, in those moments it's supposed to feel deeply and passionately right, even when it might also be so very hard to do. It's paths of righteousness that the psalmist is so glad his Gentle Shepherd guides him along.

And while the abuses of perfectionism can be brutal, please, my dearest child, do not ever stop liking being 'right'. Not, of course, in the way that has to win every argument or pridefully thinks you have all the answers. That's something entirely different. But this joy in doing it properly....delight in it. Don't think you have to "fix" this desire to be right. It's who God created you to be. And He wants to use it for Him.

In my recent ponderings about self awareness and self care, I am embracing my perfectionism these days. Reintroducing it as a means by which I can reduce some of the stresses that tend to make me a less gentle person than I want to be. I know this may sound somewhat contradictory, but the truth is, if I am allowed the time and space to do things "right", the world gets a better me. And when I strive to "chill" or "let it go" too much, if I give way to the mess and disorder for too long, try to live in it as if it were the norm, even if I think I'm doing that to accommodate others, I end up being a much paler version of myself.

So, I'm liking this about me again. But the trick is - and here Abby has it - in order to do this, I have to stop the teeter totter, take the time, help those around me who need help so I don't just dump them in the grass, and get myself situated properly. From time to time I will have to plant my feet firmly on the ground, bring the action to a halt, and make things right. Spend some time sitting quietly beside some water. Write slowly in my journal, so my penmanship is pretty again. Stop talking, and just listen. Like that.

Does it matter what side of the teeter totter you're on?

It might.

The Gift I Gave Myself

Friday afternoon.

It's an unfamiliar familiarity after spending 5 weeks with no work-related schedules - no anything-related schedules - to give you any sense of the beginnings and endings of work weeks or the onset of ...ahhhh....the weekend.

But here I am. Friday afternoon of the first week back, and feeling almost the same as if I was still at the cottage. Well, no. Just sat outside for a bit with my journal and....well....even with my chair turned toward the farmer's field.....being as close as we are to the roundabout isn't ANYTHING like being on the deck. Especially when there's a fender bender and somebody really loses their temper. Hoooo!

Even so, it's this thing, this understanding or something, that I am ending off the first week back in as UNpressurized a state as I can remember ending a work week in......well, forever. And I'm pretty sure it's because of the gift I gave myself.

I had determined, when I still was on the deck, that this first week back I would do nothing but that which served my soul's need for order and clarity and respect. I respected myself this week. What that meant was that I had NO meetings. I did celebrate a friend's birthday. I did reconnect with another friend over coffee. And I enjoyed a breakfast with the Elders of Highview, just to be glad to be with them again and show them my tan as proof of the last 5 weeks of resting. But I held back on anything that would pull or push or clutter or twist or muddy....or put anything new on my list. Just this week.

And what a great gift that has been. Without rushing, I have cleaned out files, set up new binders, prayed over and researched sermons for dates far away. I have reordered books on shelves, read and journalled outside, and pondered my academic goals online. Without rushing...did I mention that?

At home I sat and watched small children play in the pool, read stories, purged my closet AND took it all away to the Salvation Army. I cleaned out some cluttered spaces and bought a new swim bag and watched TV. Had a lovely, long conversation with my remarkable daughter. Played a game of Super Scrabble with my ferociously competitive husband (who is also remarkable in many ways, just ferociously competitive). Ate ice cream. Yeah...like that.

And coming to the end of this week, I'm thinking, I ought to give myself this gift every once in a while. A no meeting week. A week devoted to only that which serves my soul's need for order and clarity and respect. Because, as insignificant as all that may sound (Boring!!!! as one of my friends complains loudly), it's exactly what I need to keep me grounded.

It certainly was a fabulous way to end my time of resting at the cottage and prepare for a more energized re-engagement in life. Which I am looking forward to, by the way......after the long holiday weekend :).

Hope your summer is providing LOTS of opportunities to respect your own soul, whatever that might look like.

Safe weekend, everyone.

Best For Last

I am out on the deck finishing up a supper of grilled chicken and tomato. Softly, Steve Bell's "On the Wings of an Eagle" plays into the breeze, and obligingly, as if to provide me with a real live multimedia show, an osprey floats on a current above. A chipmunk has joined me, curious to know if anything on my plate might suit his tastes. On the counter inside is about three cups of blueberries gathered this afternoon, and I'm trying to decide if I'll be taking them all home with me, or I'll sneak some for dessert tonight.

The sun keeps coming out from behind some rather dubious clouds, leaving vibrant streaks of late sun touching the tree tops across the channel, then shooting out across the top, back and forth like that.

That same breeze the osprey is floating on is delicious on my skin against the heat of this day. I breathe in slowly, deeply, and can feel the fresh oxygen rushing, it seems, to every gentle cell in my body. The stillness of my soul is profound.

I would say that all this is happening for me so vividly in these moments because they are among the last of my time here at the cottage this summer, and I am trying to grab as much of them as I can. Well....yes. But the truth is that all these moments register as vivid and wonderful the whole time I'm here - all of them. I am fully present in them all, grateful for their real time reality against the thousand thoughts of wishing for them all winter long. In some parts of me, I am most alive, most in touch with the me of me, when I am here.

And this last week has been the best of it. This does not mean that the weekend with my daughter and two of our grandkids wasn't sensational. It was! And Abby catching frogs, and Zachary's glee-intensity over the chipmunks were so much fun!

I also thoroughly enjoyed having our Staff Team up for those few days, and the truly memorable sunset baptism for Paula.

And I have to say that in 33 years of marriage, plus 5 summers coming to Georgian Bay before that, this year, the time Ken and I had alone? Beautiful!

But it seems that God has left the best for last. It hasn't really been until these past five days alone that I've been able to really hunker down and listen to all He had in mind to chat with me about. Five weeks, and it took until now to quiet down enough. But we did get to it, eventually.

First, I don't do conflict very well. Hardly news to most who know my passion for peace, and the mother-part of me that "just wants everyone to get along!". But this last week on my own, I've been able to listen, and see how this could be hindering some decision making processes and the team dynamics of the people I lead.

Second, my neglect of self care is becoming more of a threat to myself, my life's work, and all those I love and lead, as I get older. Hard fact, but there it is. I'm 54 and I just can't "do" as much dysfunction as I used to and get away with it. My sin of pushing too hard is producing increasingly damaging consequences for myself and others, and it needs to stop. And my pride has been blinding me to this.

Third, I've been worrying again, big time. Letting life's challenges threaten me, forgetting that I have an ENORMOUS God! The engery waste of this is criminal.

And lastly, (at least of the things I'm willing to blog about), I've been told to WAIT and LISTEN. Don't even really know exactly what that means yet. But everytime I would even begin to approach God with questions of direction and guidance, where the church, or my own minisrty needs to go from here, those two words would crowd right into my brain. They're all over my journal. WAIT. LISTEN.

So tomorrow I head home with all of that packed lovingly into my soul.

And tonight I sit on the deck,
resting in the vividness of it all,
revelling in God's breathy nearness.
And deeply, deeply grateful.
He's saved the best for last this year.
And I thank Him.

There are only two places on this planet for which my heart aches when I am not there.

This is one of them.
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