A regular Sunday.

It's been a very wet summer. It was a nice way to wake up, listening to the rain. Smelling the breeze. Actually, I could almost taste it. My backyard is in full bloom with butterfly bushes and lavender. My roses are still managing though I've neglected them this year, and the Rose of Sharon my mom planted has pretty purple flowers. I breathed in the deep fragrance of summer before I stumbled into my day.

There is much work to be done around the house, both inside and out. So I needed to make a decision - spend Sunday with music in the background at home or head out to church. I decided to go to worship with friends, rather than stay alone.

It is good to be missed by friends. A phone call came earlier in the week from someone who had been wondering where I'd been, asking if I was okay. One person seemed concerned whether or not I was still alive. It really hasn't been that long, perhaps a month since I was at this particular service. Storms kept me home one weekend, I was travelling on another, and for another I was simply too tired to make the drive safely.

Anyway - today, I ventured out. And before I could even get in the doorway, I was greeted by friends who came quickly to hug me. (I needed that!) Two had mentioned that I had been deeply on their hearts this week and that they had been praying. (I needed to hear that too).

Today was also a day for singing! The worship team is always an interesting mix. It usually starts out relatively organized, but it quickly changes to a free form that is sometimes very raw, and often quite organic. I like that ... today, in the quiet... a couple of friends and I started to sing a different song than the one from the front... and then everyone joined in... we 'hovered' there for several minutes... and then more worship, a couple of hours or so...

The lesson today was from John 8. Straight forward, and much of the scriptures were directly quoted. The service ended with corporate and individual prayer and many hugs.

Many of the regulars are still enjoying 'brunch' at a nearby diner. I decided to come home instead. I am grateful to see these friends again, but I'm very tired. And the regular household chores need to be done (trust me, it's really the minimum I can get by with). Dishes from last week are still sitting in the sink. I have some plants sitting in a glass on my counter that need to be planted... and of course, I need clean laundry for work.

It's just a 'regular' Sunday.

But it's been a great one.

Remembering Krakow

Greetings...

It's been a while since I last posted. I always have a lot that I could write and post in a space like this, but it's finding the time. Work is busy, and my life seems busier all the time, though I also doing less and less it seems. But I did manage to take a special trip this year, and my heart continues to process the many images, ideas and sounds I heard, as I made an unanticipated pilgrimage to Krakow.

My travels often take me to new places, both physically and spiritually. I'm deeply thankful to have walked the roads I've stumbled along this year.

In May, I visited friends in the Czech Republic. They are precious people serving God in an adopted home. I am honoured to have been invited into their day-to-day living, and see anew how they have stepped into their calling. (I hope to post more on that another time).

But that journey to dream with some friends... led me 'home' in many ways as well. My roots are from Poland. I was able to connect with a distant cousin and attended mass in a beautiful part of old town Krakow. My heart will never be the same.

I was home...

With people I never knew and will never know. With words spoken in a language that I don't know, but sound too familiar... there were many moments in the mass that I found myself responding, not in English, but whispering in unison with those in attendance.

I've dismissed that as simply the power of unity in prayer... of somehow picking up on the rhythm and heart of those I worshipping with. But something, deep within my spirit... whispered to me in those moments as well... a quiet knowing, that I didn't know what I was saying, but at the same time... I did.

I wondered later if I simply remembered the words from the earliest days of my childhood...attending mass with my mom, before we were able to attend Sunday school.

Maybe.

What I know, is that for a moment, I loved the city and its people. And I was changed.

I am changed every time I encounter Jesus (as it should be).

And, I absolutely love it when those moments happen in church! More and more, I'm being drawn to witness the beauty in old parishes... and I love to see those who continue to gather in deep respect and humble prayer towards our Lord.

That day in Krakow, I saw many beautiful people attending mass. It was a first confirmation for many -- little girls dressed in white gowns...boys all clean cut... even the ones with tussled hair and families scrambling to get a seat before the priests came to the main altar....

The city was alive! Yes there were tourists everywhere, and the crowds of folks just getting to and from the shopping areas, and students milling about between university classes....but I saw, thanks to a new friend... so many people offering themselves, and receiving the Host. It brought me such joy to see that.

There were dozens of churches within walking distance of the main square. I must have walked into six or seven of them while mass was being offered. Ornate cathedrals, even the 'little' side churches along the way.... some full, some nearly empty, but in all of them I found souls who were humble before Christ.

I needed to see that. I know the reports are that the church in Poland is in decline, but I didn't notice. What I saw were the faithful, gathering and praying. Kneeling. Confessing. Singing. Worshipping....with trembling lips, and bowed hearts. It was beautiful.

Each day of that trip was a blessing. Each day, was full of beautiful people - some closely walking with and loving Jesus.... some still searching...others fully caught up in their own way of life. It was glorious and beautiful. And a reminder that 'home' is not always where I expect it to be.

I haven't managed to sort through pictures yet. In time perhaps. But here is an image of something that made me smile. I love the story... and the day I was there was sunny like in this video... and the bird chased around the spires for hours...

A lazy start to a Saturday...

It's a lazy Saturday so far, but the swirl of family life has consumed me again. I have always been fairly sensitive to events going on near and far, to my general surroundings, and to the emotions of others.

In different seasons, my heart is numb - and often I prefer those seasons, but today, I'm feeling everything it seems.

Some of the news articles catching my attention include:

- the pictures of the flood near Jakarta, including graphic imagery of the toll again in human life (I would hop on a plane if I could to help with the clean up)
- a memorial from speakers corners in my hometown, saying goodbye to Martin - a homeless man who tugged on the hearts of so many
- the cresting waters the Red River
- the curious scurry of attention towards 'earth hour'

It is also interesting to watch the tides in the financial waters these days, but my heart and mind are drawn towards the suffering of those who have forgotten about the economy for a while.... And yet, the tidal waves cresting in the financial streams continue to threaten others possibly with as much force as hit those near the dam in Jakarta.

Closer to home, one brother is recovering from a lifetime battle with an addition. His health seems to be slowly improving as he crawls out of the pit he made for himself. In his words to me this morning, he's actually ready to start living his life, looking forward to it, rather than just waiting for death. His choices have cost him dearly in the past, but he choices now are bringing new life and new hope. And my dad, is still faithfully helping him step by step. He's an elderly man now, but the gentleness that has come into him shows me grace like I've never understood it.

As this story of recovery is happening, another brother is facing a divorce after 20+ years. His wife isn't' happy, and she is just moving on. She has bought a new house and is pushing for him to sell the one they had built together. It seems all quite sudden to him. No time for counselling, no time to even let their kids finish out the school year in their present home. She's made a decision to get on with the rest of her life, and everyone is needing to fit around her plans. Clearly the story is yet to unfold as to how they got to this point, and how they will recover. But the flood of emotions is high for everyone involved. It's not the way marriage is supposed to be...but it is too frequently the case. And today, I'm feeling the trauma of that in a number of ways that are surprising, even to me...

As I slowly got up, after connecting with family, I was trying to shake off certain feelings - trying to find a bit of hope in my heart, I took a shower, and thought it was time for a bit of fresh air in this place. So, I opened up the window in my bathroom. I had expected to see the sun, but at least it made me laugh as i pulled open the blinds. I didn't immediately see the sunshine that I'd been expecting. About 40 house flies were suddenly grouped on the little screen - blocking that fresh spring air. Seriously. It wasn't hard to kill the ones on the inside of the screen... they moved quite slowly... I just hadn't been in a 'killing mood'... and it wasn't how I'd planned on starting my spring cleaning this morning.

But that's how it often goes doesn't it? We do what we need to do, when we need to do it, even when we are tired and hoping for something different...

And our response... well it's our response. We can choose how we will respond. Just like my brothers must choose their steps, I will choose mine too.

Today, I choose to pray with those who are grieving. I will hold them close, at least in my heart. I will hope and encourage those who are taking difficult steps towards a new life. I might have to kill a few bugs along the way. But I'll look for the sunshine, and fresh air. I will anticipate the lilacs and lillies that will soon bloom. And even as I say goodbye to some friends who are heading out on a new journey, I'll start taking a few new wobbly steps of my own.

Spring is coming.

Tulips will peak through the frosts.

And then again, there will be roses.

fire pour down....

This song continues to echo throughout my days. It is the cry of my heart, but I also pray that it is the cry of the church.

Do you know Jesus?
Do you spend time with him?

Do you know people in whom he resides?
Do you spend time with them?
Do you love them?

Do you spend time loving those who have yet to touch the flame? What causes you to relent?

Do you know what causes me to relent?
Will you relent if you know?

Jesus asks him to know him...
and I'm thankful that He never relents.

He seeks our hearts until they are fully restored.
Mine, yours... Jim's, Joe's...
the lady at the coffee shop...
the guy on the street corner...
the couple walking their dog...

His passion is full and complete.
His passion isn't given into silence.
He loves us,
Relentlessly.

Psalm 103.

"Fire pour down"

"For you are great, and do wonderous things;
You alone are God." Psalm 86.10

I am amazed at how Jesus continues to fill my life to replace things that are lost or stolen. Friends come and go. Seasons change. But the Lord is the same always.

Recently I've been attending a church that challenges me on many levels, but the depth of relationship and genuine caring is having a profound affect in our worship. There is freedom to come as you are, with the baggage of the week, and have that dusted off... there is freedom to laugh, freedom to cry, freedom to speak to the Lord, and freedom to share about how the Lord has touched your heart.

'Fire pour down' became the chorus yesterday. It came from a Misty Edwards song about how Jesus won't relent until he has all of us. It was overwhelming to watch four generations worship in unison...tears in the eyes of most of the people in the room... three churches gathered, simply to say 'thank you Lord, that you won't relent until you have all of me'.

I watched for a bit... and was thankful to do so. But, as is generally the case these days, in seeing and feeling the genuine cry of his people, my heart melted, and I too joined in the chorus of worshippers... surrounded by many friends.

The service which started around 10 am, didn't end until shortly after 4. The 'crowd' just didn't want to move. The sermon was roughly 40 minutes somewhere in between. The congregation was feeling the press of the season changing. Many will be leaving soon and heading back to the countries and cities from which they come. The school they've been attending has finished, and the friendships, though deeply treasured, will morph into something new.... or fade into memory. Either way, there was a deep fellowship, and profound healing yesterday.

Next week, there is a potluck dinner. We all laughed at the announcement because someone wanted to know when it would start. The response from the pastor was 'we don't know...Let's just say about 1/2 hour after the service ends'.

It was a great day. And today, I'm still singing the praises of my saviour, and remembering new and old friends. "Fire pour down on us we pray".

May the Holy, Purifying fire of the Holy Spirit rest on you today, wherever you are...

Blessings.

Grace...

Where sin is increased, grace increased all the more. Romans 5:20

I was flipping through an old hymnal this morning. I realize more and more that I love these precious words of those who created song without the use of modern day tools. The rythems are often not what we would like to hear, but the words are precious, and speak to such deep truths...

Grace Greater than our Sin

Marvelous grace of our loving Lord,
Grace that exceeds our sin and guilt!
Yonder on Calvary's mount outpoured
There where the bolld of the Lamb was spilt.

Sin and despair, like the seawaves cold,
Threaten the sould with infinite loss;
Grace that is greater - yes, grace untold.
Points to the refuge, the mighty cross.

Marvelous, infinite, matchless grace,
Freely bestowed on all who believe!
You that are longing to see His face,
Will you this moment His grace receive?

Chorus:
Grace, Grace, God's grace.
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within
Grace, Grace, God's grace.
Grace that is greater than all our sin.

..from an old card...

I Believe

that

hope survives,

love

prevails,

tears

cleanse,

memories

comfort,

faith

soothes,

good thoughts

reassure.

Still reading alot, and remembering some deep moments from the last couple of weeks. I'll share more shortly. Isaiah 43v1-13 strongly on my heart again, but other verses too. (Luke 22, 2 Kings, Mark, and some other parts of Isaiah).

You said.. part 2.

My house isn't very tidy. You will see something laying about just about everywhere you look. This particular table sits at the top of the stairs that lead to the bedrooms. It holds many little treasures.

I'm a collector of sorts, not of any one thing in particular but there is a definite theme: just about everything reminds me of special promises which are a little too close to my heart to really believe they are true. Moments where the Lord spoke to my heart, or taught me something about who He really is...

I'll describe a few items from this particular table, which holds many favourite things.

• I love the expressions of John Paul II and Mother Teresa (Karol and Agnes) in this precious moment. They have inspired me for many years. As I walk by this table, I am reminded each morning and each night to be a sister to everyone. I sometimes forget to be that way by the time I reach the bottom of the stairs. But when I get home, or make my way to bed, I am reminded again when I see their joy in greeting a cherished sibling. It pierces and softens my heart. On good days, I rejoice with them. On particularly bad days, well...I become thankful for their very human example and entrust myself to Jesus again, ever leaning on grace to rest from the day that has just ended.
  
  
• You can find railway spikes in various places in my house (and garage), but the four pictured here are special and set apart from the rest.
  
  
• The broken shell, and little girl with the dove remind me of who I am, in different ways.
  
  
• The statues are tokens from relief projects: women holding water jars for an African well project, and girl hugging a little boy for a life center in Romania. That little boy was named Christian and was living in the streets. On the day he climbed out of a sewer (literally) to give a hug to a Christian missionary because he thought she was sad. She was the daughter of a famous pastor. He sniffed glue to keep himself content with his circumstances. But even with that, he recognized the grief on her face. So he went to give her comfort. The hug they shared, captured in bronze, reminds me of how precious each of us are regardless of where and how we live. (If memory serves, this boy didn't even know about Jesus until that day, but his story touched many hearts...including mine.)
  
  
• There is a stone shaped like Africa, and a fossilized shell, markers from a hike up a mountain on Thanksgiving day a couple years back.
  
  
• Arrowheads and some other stones, and a few gifts from family.

My whole house has little corners like this one. Reminders of special moments and promises.

You might think I spend all my time looking back. I do get nostalgic, but at work I'm a planner. My role is to look forward, and anticipate what needs to get done, and set things in motion to get them done. I'm not neat or orderly in how I do it, but I am usually effective. But it's that critical thinking and looking toward the horizon that can also be my biggest stumbling block.

So, I need to remember and be reminded of promises. I need to rest more and enjoy the depth and complexity of the little moments. I need these visual glimpses to see and hear what Jesus has done, and is doing in my life. In a flash, as my eyes fall ever so quickly on these 'things' I remember the blessing; sometimes I wince realizing my heart has hardened again. Either way, I often drop to my knees, or at least humble my heart, and softly whisper words of thanksgiving.

How does this relate to "You said", and that song from the prior post?

Well, one of the common questions in my internal dialogue is this: "Did Jesus really say that?"

Yes, I'm one of those who thinks they really talk with Jesus regularly. And yes, most days I believe I hear from Him. But I don't always remember that what He says are actually promises - Somehow, I easily forget the continuing and ever present truth of the I AM. (The scriptures are full of promises, I know, but I doubt them far too frequently. Perhaps I never really believed or understood them? But even the parts I think I believe, I begin to question.)

I am often struck by these 'inner words', because it was Satan who first them in a dialogue with Eve, (Genesis 3: "Did God really say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?") Yes, it is good to question - sometimes. Yes, it is good to validate who is really speaking, even in our internal dialogues. It's not my desire to agree with satan or feed my doubt.

Far better to speak with Jesus, than about him, even with myself. The question is quite different from simply saying...You said...

So, I place "standing stones". Many are literally stones from special walks, but there are many things I've picked up along the way. Even in a passing glance, my mind...heart, soul, and spirit, can be filled with images, words and hope in Jesus Christ. They allow me to hear again just by seeing quick glimpses of 'things'.

Especially these days, as I look around my home, my heart swells with praise, because Lord, "You said"...so many beautiful things. You are faithful and worthy of our trust. I love you.

Matthew 8

Learning to stand again...

The year has started in a powerful way.

New years was spent worshipping with some friends who really love Jesus. We gathered to listen to a friend launch her CD and then continued to sing praises for another 3 hours. And just as midnight struck, another friend.. prayed for the group that had gathered.. and tears filled most of our eyes as she welcomed each of us to come to the table to receive bread and wine in an offering to Jesus the whole of ourselves for this next year.

By the time I got home that night, the phone started ringing (past 2 am) with calls related to work. I received word that they had finished a critical job around 9am. It made for a very interesting welcome into 2009.

The words we sang, the prayers that were said.. so much reflected the year where I had been and the direction for this year as well. And like most times, I tried to bury those words.. they are too much to believe in...and I pretend that they weren't for me, or that I simply didn't hear them in the first place.

I did that a lot of last year. I did that for most of January. But, something has shifted for me this week. (Finally?) And I'm beginning to find my feet again.

I'm remembering some of the promises and some of the joy that came in those deep and special moments when the Lord calls me to hear... and I'm in a place where I'm again able to stand on some of those words with joy in my heart and sing some of it back to him. This song below is one that reflects some of my heart.

I remember singing this particular song in the hills of Rwanda. That memory alone is enough to bring a smile.

I hope you remember what the Lord has spoken as promises to you.

Remember them.

And remind yourself of his faithfulness...