Winter Wonders for the Last Day of January - Pictorial Edition

I'm pretty sure the not-so-secret secret to living through a Canadian winter is the ability to embrace it.

In fact, it could be said that to the degree we find or make our own kind of winter joy, we will get through the long winter months in a correlatively better state of mind.

Getting outside is a big part of this.  I say this realizing that I am first and foremost a summer girl, and it's not natural for me to get myself out there when it's cold.

Even more so if the sun isn't shining.  

But I do it.  And I found a trick.  Regardless of the weather, it's amazing what I can see if I choose to focus my attention on the beautiful things.

The stunning.  The surprising.  The patterns and contrasts and random art of things.

The way the cold transforms landscapes.  How snow can paint a completely new pictures with hardly any colour at all.

Still.  All that is outside.

Making it cozy indoors is part of the trick to embracing winter too.

Candles and putting on a fire.  That will do it for me.  And reading.

That's right up there in winter activities for me.  Although admittedly not just for winter. [Heard a new phrase the other day.  Sorry I can't remember where.  But instead of book worm (which sounds a bit icky if you think about it) what about a book dragon?  Makes me feel warmer just saying it.]

Of course, I think the most important element of making it through the winter is each other.

And here I absolutely cannot post enough pictures to represent the beautiful souls God has brought into my life.  How amazing that in the long cold months of winter our hearts can keep each other warm.  I so need you.  Just sayin.'

Happy last day of January to you.

I know it's been hard without the sunshine.

Hang in.

Find your own kind of winter joy.

Embrace it, lean into it.

And let's huddle around each other, 

literally or figuratively, 

and see this winter through.

 

Leaving Things Alone Beautifully

Contrary to what I had always believed before, orchids are not needy.  They can't be, or they won't survive me.  In fact, with very little soil required, and a bit of water about once a week, it could be said that the more you leave them alone, the more they have to offer.

I've been told our kitchen counter by the big window is a very good place for them, so perhaps that's why I am graced with clusters of blooms over and again in the cycle.  But that's the thing.  You have to be willing to let them be nothing for long periods of time.  To leave them alone.  Let them be kind of blah for a while.

Don't tell them I said so, but without the blooms, I kind of think orchids aren't that much to look at.  Okay, the leaves are a healthy dark waxy green, but they're also rather large in proportion to the pot.  Still, at least they don't have the borderline-hideous look of the roots.  I half expect a hostile alien to creep out from under the bark one day.  

And it's all I have to look at, sometimes for months on end.  

So I wait.

And then, one happy day, a little stem-start appears, reaching upward.  Something good is on its way.  I take a stick and clip the stem to encourage good posture.  

And then I wait some more.  Maybe I adjust the clip after a few days, as the stem grows.  But mostly, I do nothing.  Just let it do its thing.

Right now I'm enjoying this cheery clutch.  Helps to brighten against the dull winter days sulking just on the other side of the glass.  And I remember that this bit of happy comes to me only because of a learned waiting.  Because of the plant's reputation to do something wonderful again after a period of what looks like gnarly nothing, and my willingness to leave it alone until the time is right.

I am a doer by nature.  Wired to take action, lay out plans, write up strategies, have check lists and goals and objectives.  I love to put my brain and heart and hands to a task and see things come about in ways that benefit the world in the little ways I've been allowed to contribute, always in the context of a community dedicated to those same passions.

I also think much good gets done by doers.  I believe there's a lot that's actually my responsibility, our responsibility, collectively, to take action on.  That when good people stand back and do nothing, something evil can and usually does come and fill up the spaces.

And.

I have also seen, in this life-journey of six plus decades, that there are also a whole lot of things that only happen because you leave them alone.  That sometimes you just need to let something be un-beautiful for a while, before it's beauty makes itself known to you - all by itself.  

Here I resist the temptation to make a list.  Because what those things are for me may be different than what they are for you.  There's often a nuanced discernment required for what needs our concerted effort and what needs us to take our hands off entirely.

But I will say that one huge clue for me is that when something is entirely out of my control, I'd best not try to take control.  That may sound obvious, but believe me I've tried more times than I want to admit.  It doesn't work.  It only frustrates all of us involved.  It most certainly does more harm than good.  

As if I could shout at the dormant plant, pull on the stem, or open the orchid buds prematurely.  

No! Hands off lady!

Leave that one alone!

And just let it be what it is for a while.  

Even if I think it's not so pretty.

Even when what we're talking about might just be me.

"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 the end.'

Ecclesiastes 3:11

Before All the Sunday Things

 

I'm awake too early on a Sunday morning, but in a good way.
Enjoying the quiet and feeling the gentle invitation to be still.

Soon the delight of all the Sunday things will begin. And this morning is especially fun because the Team that visited Hot Springs last November gets to tell our stories.

But right now I've made a cup of tea and have tucked myself back in bed to see what might come of the stillness.

For whatever reason a word comes to mind. "Imagine." And I sip on that for a bit, remembering something Paul wrote to inspire the Ephesians that has so often inspired me.

It's at the end of a prayer, so it has all the flourish of doxology.

"Now to him to is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen."
Ephesians 3:20

What a gift it is to be able to create scenarios that haven't happened yet. To dream, to desire, to innovate. To reach beyond today's realities into tomorrow's possibilities. I think this is one way we do indeed bear the image of God.

I hold the morning's stillness a little longer to imaginatively explore some possibilities I believe God has been presenting to me over these past months. Nothing that takes me away from all the good things I get to do in this era of my life, not at all. Maybe deeper, distilled, refined. I'm not sure. I have to think about it more, pray about it more, see where it goes. Imagine stuff. And let Him do more with it.

But not in a working sort of way, where I'm laying out strategies, or tasks and timelines. Not in this moment anyways. Right now, it's more of an enjoying-a-bonus-early-quiet-moment-letting-God-do-His-stuff sort of thing. A begin-still sort of thing.

Hope you can imagine good things for your Sunday.
If you gather anywhere to worship today, hope it's meaningful and reorienting.
And if you happen to be at Highview this morning, see you then.

Remembering Gary Nelson

 Your statutes are my heritage forever;

they are the joy of my heart.

My heart is set on keeping your decrees

to the very end.

Psalm 119:111-112

With a very keen sense of loss, I learned just yesterday of the passing of former President of Tyndale University and Seminary, Gary Nelson on Monday, January 22, 2024.

Like many of his students I imagine, this feels personal.  Despite the formal title of The Reverend Doctor Gary V. Nelson, a status his life achievements well deserved, most of us were invited to simply call him Gary, welcomed into the hospitality of his warmth, and wit, and genuine interest in others.

He was often seen just strolling through the hallways, always fully present with whomever stopped him to chat, myself included.  He seemed to know everyone's name.

The one credit I had with him called Gospel, Church and Culture, remains key in how I approach the relevant integration of my faith into the Canadian landscape.  

Any other time I had the privilege of hearing him speak or preach, he never failed to bring an honesty and realism to what it means to be a follower of Jesus in the ordinary, daily context of life.  

Although he had many heavy responsibilities, and was well sought after across the country, he graciously accepted offers to come speak to lesser known groups of Christian leaders and congregations, having a special affinity for the smaller church.  Highview benefitted from his teaching and presence when he came as a guest speaker a few years back.  Our people still quote him from time to time.

So this morning I am in that space of sadness and gratitude.  

It is an honour to have been influenced by the humility and grace of this intelligent teacher and leader.  

I will remember our conversations fondly.

Prayers for his wife, family and the Tyndale community, and all who will feel this loss.

Right-Sizing

Ken and I took in the Boat Show in Toronto on Monday afternoon.

We were there primarily to purchase a promised Christmas gift; a large and sturdy inflatable to drag behind the boat and fling screaming grandchildren around on the water for an afternoon.

We were able to find one at a reasonably discounted price. So after that we mostly just walked around and looked at boats of all sizes, and everything else that goes with boating.

Apparently fudge goes with boating. A LOT of fudge. But never mind.

Stationed around the very, very large halls of the Enercare Centre at Exhibition Place, were these oversized Muskoka chairs in various colours. For fun, I had Ken take my picture.

We would have tried to get a shot of both of us, but there weren't that many folks around at the time we were there. And also we were failing miserably at getting selfies with the two of us. I'm not posting any of those shots. You're welcome.

But, hey, this one's not too bad. And then, with the size all out of proportion and it looking all silly like it does, I realize that's how I'm tempted to feel about a whole lot of things in life.

Things get out of proportion.

Perhaps a pathway to better mental health and spiritual wellness could be framed as a practice of right-sizing.

Right-sizing my problems with the faithfulness of the Father
Right-sizing my ego with the humility of Christ.
Right-sizing my responsibilities with the leading of the Spirit.

It's Wednesday. For me that typically means a string of meetings that will take me out of the house. It's a good rhythm for the week, actually. I LOVE working from home, and especially so in the winter. And enough meetings happen either here or over Zoom, to be sure. But it's also good to be up and out seeing folks face to face, nicely spaced in the middle of the week. It's a good fit.

Hope your day fits you well.
I will say, it's apparently a bit foggy and slippery out there, so if you do have to go anywhere, take care.

By the way. I did NOT buy any fudge, which, if you know me, is quite an accomplishment.

The Sky Though

This morning's sunrise.

Full disclosure though. Despite what might be a recurring landscape on my social media, I am not out doing my 'full' 4.5 km walk quite yet.

That trek takes me out into these wide open spaces where the wind chill is, well really chilly. Plus the sidewalks along the way are not always conducive to a steady, or even safe, stride. My winter-walking takes me into the sugar bush trail very close to our house, and I'm good with that. That stroll I do that most often during the day, so I don't really catch the sunrise, which happens way too late anyways.

So for now, from the window of the van, here it is. A glorious way to begin a day, I gotta' say.

I am thinking this morning of dear friends who are right now planning how they will mark the lives of beloveds who have recently left us, two of them from separate orbits of my life. And I'm thinking of others who are coming up to a one year marker of the same.

And the colour screams across the sky in defiance of the night that releases it. And the promise of a new day that can't be contained.

"My comfort in my suffering is this:
Your promise preserves my life."
Psalm 119

I'm still puttering about this psalm, the longest one, the one that gushes about the Word of God. And one thing is, the author clearly knew suffering. It's punctuated throughout the psalm, and always in context of how a reorientation to the promises of God and the good boundaries of obedience to it, bring hope and life and comfort and delight.

I wish all those things for my friends in the throes this morning. For all of us, really, since life can bring many sorts of sorrows.

I pray screaming colours of defiant hope to light the way,
and remind us all that goodness prevails.

Love from the Longest Psalm

 

This morning I woke up with a 'pull' to spend some meditative time in a renewed study of Psalm 119. It's the longest psalm, and with a whopping 176 verses, is the longest chapter in the Bible.

That, and a few other literary points of interests, do indeed help make sure we keep this (and all Scriptural texts) properly anchored to genre and context. And I've been digging around in the commentaries again, like the nerd that I am.

But what's coming to the surface in my first, bigger-picture read-throughs so far is how crazy emotional this psalm is.

Whoever wrote it - obviously brilliant judging from the acrostic layout, probably a well educated Levite priest - was no stuffy intellectual hiding away in a dusty ivy-league library. This guy was all-out gushing with passion for God's Word.

First off, that's what the psalm is about - Holy Scripture. Every Hebrew word possible is used to keep that focus; words translated into English as word, laws, statutes, precepts, ways, decrees, commands. Ironically, none of these words in English usually illicit affection. More, a sense of restriction or confinement.

Not for this guy.

"I walk about in freedom, for I have sought your precepts." Verse 45.

And then statement after evocative statement describing over-the-top, crazy-for-love, all-consuming-delight in pressing deeper and deeper into the ways God has communicated His redemptive-living vision for His people. His WORDS to us.

"I have hidden your word in my heart." verse 11
"I delight in your decrees." verse 16
"I reach out for your commands, which I love." verse 48
"Oh, how I love your law!" verse 97
"Your statutes are wonderful." verse 129
"Your commands give me delight." verse 143

And those are just a smattering. Over and over again, this emotional attachment to the Word of God is expressed. It's like he can't find enough ways to say it.

What a joy, and a solid uplifting in spirit it's been for me to read through Psalm 119 again. A great way to start a Friday morning, and end what's been a very good week.

I hear we're supposed to have two days in a row of sunshine this weekend! Wonder if there will be a special weather statement about that?

Happy Friday to you.
Hope your spirit is lifted by what brings you joy.
Have a great weekend, everyone!

Photo: Sunrise on frosted tree tops, from a walk last winter, when the sun actually did rise from time to time.