After our cold snap at the start of January I refuse to not run if the weather isn't too bad (I've decided -10 to -15 is more than adequate for running). To ensure I don't freeze I have taken up layering. The result is me with two hoodies (with both hoods pulled over my head), an ear warmer, neck warmer, and gloves. As I set off from our house I hit play on my ipod and started running. With the hoods pulled up, and some "Gonna Fly Now" blasting through my earphones, I couldn't help but imagine that I was Rocky. Which meant that while running I may or may not have thrown some punches (I don't even want to know what people think of me). It was also snowing, and not just tiny flakes. We're talking big, fluffy flakes, like the kind you would imagine Lucy and Mr. Tumnus meeting under at the lamppost.
Yes, this is how my imagination works.
I have spent the last two days trying to figure out what to write about. Only this time it isn't because I don't know what to talk about, it's because I have heard a lot of things lately that I could write about. I think there are a few things that I will save for later and for now I will just talk from the heart.
Last week I got to spend four days teaching the same class. It was a quirky group of grade six students and I loved getting to spend time with them. I had them once for a music class in the fall and they thought my making a fool of myself was hilarious (good thing I don't have a problem with making a fool of myself). Two students found broken paint brushes while I was there and presented them to my so I could have my own conducting sticks. I thought that was pretty cute.
With the start of the New Year I found a reading plan for my devotions and have really worked hard to be diligent in my reading. I began to notice myself being less concerned with what I was reading on my scale every morning, and instead found I was feeling healthy and happy. For the first time in a while I had returned to catching a glimpse of myself the way God saw me.
Then something happened on Sunday.
I woke up feeling a little down. Couldn't explain what it was, I just felt worn down. Jordan and I went to church and for the second week in a row I had the sense of being overwhelmed with the tangible presence of God.
Almost as soon as this happened, I messed up singing one of the songs. Not a big deal--it happens fairly often :) What shocked me was how I started to mentally beat myself up for it. I never do that, but in this case I felt so discouraged. As the day progressed I had to fight that response over everything I did. At one point it got so bad that if I ate I felt guilty over it.
There is something wonderful about being able to go to your husband, cry, tell him what you're experiencing, and know that he will encourage and pray for you. Having someone else go to God on your behalf is sometimes what you need.
And so far this week has started off better. I've exercised, cleaned the house, walked into the downtown to a used bookstore I have been wanting to check out since moving here, and have just plain relaxed.
And with that I think I will end today's post. I'm teaching grade three tomorrow so I'm getting myself into my crazy groove. And I'm also going to go and try a new recipe out for dinner.
Before I go I just want to leave you with something that I have mentioned before: Matt Chandler talks about two major hurdles that women face and they are perfectionism and comparison. When telling husband what I was going through he pointed out to me that I do tend to compare myself to others.
Please don't do that. We are all guilty of it; sometimes we compare ourselves to make us feel better, and other times through doing it we make ourselves feel worse. It's not healthy and I don't for one moment believe that God intends for us to do that. I'm me. Sometimes I don't like who I am, but I am made in the image of God. I am a piece of art and my beauty is in the eyes of my Beholder. Comparison leads only to frustration and discontent. It ruins relationships. A woman feels like she doesn't measure up to her sister, and a rift develops between them. Friends unwittingly take part in a competition that can rob them of a greater depth. We compare ourselves to others and then become convinced that everyone else is judging us. We twist and warp things. We find ourselves unhappy, beaten down, and alone.
Each and every one of us is unique. We are different. But we are all works of art made by the True Artist.
Tuesday, 27 January 2015
Monday, 19 January 2015
Post 22: Church Flashbacks and the Anniversary
I had every intention of writing last week. Really, I did. I was only booked to work Tuesday, so I thought I would have ample time for contemplation and writing. But then I got called in to work Monday. And Wednesday. And Thursday. I also tutored Monday-Friday. By the the time Friday day rolled around all I wanted to do was clean my poor, neglected house.
This week is going to be about as busy also, since I am booked to teach grade six Tuesday-Friday. Which means if I'm going to blog, today is probably going to be the day to get it done.
I found that last week I was having trouble thinking about what to write. I could comment on some of my experiences teaching (a full day of senior kindergarten... elementary teachers, especially primary ones, hold my highest level of respect), or about finishing the book Unbroken (fantastic read, just putting it out there... I finished it in three days... would have been sooner but I was called in to work), or about the adventures of working out to my Jillian Michaels DVDs in the living room (me kickboxing... scary thought indeed).
The problem is that I was having trouble trying to think of something a little deeper I could put in there. So rather than write a too-fluffy post, I decided to wait and think on it some more.
This weekend Jordan and I decided it was time to organize our spare room. It has been the bastion of unpacked boxes, seasonal decorations, items to go to Good Will, and our cat. We hate showing off the bedrooms of our house because of this room. So on Saturday, after going out for brunch at a lovely deli that is only a two minute walk from our house, we went shopping for shelving and spent the rest of the day assembling shelves and unpacking boxes (with an occasional break for some macaroni and cheese, beans, and wieners and an episode of Suits).
Sunday marked our six month anniversary. I realize it may sound silly, but this was still an exciting milestone for us.
We started off our Sunday morning with breakfast and reading together from our Tim Keller marriage book (this is our weekend breakfast ritual). Our readings that morning had to do with friendship and its character. Keller quotes CS Lewis (shocking, I know), saying the following:
Friendship arises... when two or more... discover that they have in common some insight or interest... Friendship must be about something, even if it were only an enthusiasm for dominoes or white mice. Those who have nothing can share nothing; those who are going nowhere can have no fellow-travelers.
Keller then builds on this by looking at Christian friendship. He says that:
...any two Christians, with nothing else but a common faith in Christ, can have a robust friendship, helping each other on their journey toward the new creation, as well as doing ministry together in the world.
I have mentioned a few times how I would love to develop some close friendships here in Ontario. But please don't think this means I do not value my friends who are scattered all over the country (and the continent, for that matter). As we were reading through this part of the book, I began to think of the common insights or interests the drew me to the friends I have. With some it was a love of Jane Austen and BBC period dramas, with others it was TV shows, Barbies, and video games. Still others it was a true appreciation for classic movies (an appreciation that may have lead to choreographed dance routines involving umbrellas), or an enjoyment of being outdoors, or a weak spot for hot beverages. Sometimes a love of reading and writing led to two girls creating their own world and writing letters back and forth, imagining themselves the heroines in the epic story they were creating. I remember connecting with one friend over the common interest in Reformed theology and a common disinterest in Canadian Literature.
At times a person can grow frustrated with their friends. Sometimes we love someone so much that we see them hurting ourselves and no matter how we try to help, we discover we are helpless to stop them. All we can do is love them and pray that God will help them get through what they are going through.
Sometimes we can just feel far away from our friends. As I write this, I'm sitting down with some tea and orange slices.
I wish very much so that I could have a friend here to share this with me. What Jordan and I read gave me a very new appreciation for the infinite ways God has blessed me.
Now I don't want you to think that I'm feeling all lonely and sad, because the story doesn't end there. We went to church. It was a baptism and a communion service. We witnessed the baptism, listened to the sermon, and had just been served the bread. As I waited for the rest of the congregation to be served, I listened to the song the pianist was playing. It was "Power of Your Love."
I have not heard that song in years. All of I sudden I was thrown back into the Pentecostal church we attended when I was eleven and twelve, and we would sing this song semi-regularly. Might I add that I had one epic interpretive dance sequence figured out to the chorus. I began to hum along to the piano, and in my mind I started to sing the words.
Lord I come to know,
The weaknesses I see in me,
Will be swept away,
By the power of Your love.
Hold me close,
Let Your love surround me.
Bring me near,
Draw me to Your side,
And as I wait,
I will rise up like the eagles,
And I will soar with You,
Your Spirit leads me on,
In the power of Your love.
As I sat in the pew, my piece of bread resting on my palm, I began to feel overwhelmed with love. Despite my weaknesses and shortcomings, I became ever so aware of the love my God has for me.
With this in mind, I ate the bread, and then waited as the juice was passed around. The pianist began to play another song.
It was "Jesus Loves Me."
I have to be honest, I almost lost it. Despite images of me in Sunday School doing the actions to this song (or of me doing the actions with a group of kindergarten kids earlier that week), I was overcome. That song had never affected me that way before, but all I could do was agree that "Yes, Jesus loves me."
As we left church, I felt so blessed, so loved, and so cherished.
We went and had lunch with my Mom and Dad in-law and brother-in-law, and the went to the movies in honour of our anniversary (saw Selma and we really enjoyed it). Then it was a quiet night in.
And all through the rest of the day I was reminded of the presence of the God I love and serve. The One who can speak to me through church flashbacks, and who uses our six month anniversary as a means of reminding me of all the ways He has blessed me.
This week is going to be about as busy also, since I am booked to teach grade six Tuesday-Friday. Which means if I'm going to blog, today is probably going to be the day to get it done.
I found that last week I was having trouble thinking about what to write. I could comment on some of my experiences teaching (a full day of senior kindergarten... elementary teachers, especially primary ones, hold my highest level of respect), or about finishing the book Unbroken (fantastic read, just putting it out there... I finished it in three days... would have been sooner but I was called in to work), or about the adventures of working out to my Jillian Michaels DVDs in the living room (me kickboxing... scary thought indeed).
The problem is that I was having trouble trying to think of something a little deeper I could put in there. So rather than write a too-fluffy post, I decided to wait and think on it some more.
This weekend Jordan and I decided it was time to organize our spare room. It has been the bastion of unpacked boxes, seasonal decorations, items to go to Good Will, and our cat. We hate showing off the bedrooms of our house because of this room. So on Saturday, after going out for brunch at a lovely deli that is only a two minute walk from our house, we went shopping for shelving and spent the rest of the day assembling shelves and unpacking boxes (with an occasional break for some macaroni and cheese, beans, and wieners and an episode of Suits).
Sunday marked our six month anniversary. I realize it may sound silly, but this was still an exciting milestone for us.
We started off our Sunday morning with breakfast and reading together from our Tim Keller marriage book (this is our weekend breakfast ritual). Our readings that morning had to do with friendship and its character. Keller quotes CS Lewis (shocking, I know), saying the following:
Friendship arises... when two or more... discover that they have in common some insight or interest... Friendship must be about something, even if it were only an enthusiasm for dominoes or white mice. Those who have nothing can share nothing; those who are going nowhere can have no fellow-travelers.
Keller then builds on this by looking at Christian friendship. He says that:
...any two Christians, with nothing else but a common faith in Christ, can have a robust friendship, helping each other on their journey toward the new creation, as well as doing ministry together in the world.
I have mentioned a few times how I would love to develop some close friendships here in Ontario. But please don't think this means I do not value my friends who are scattered all over the country (and the continent, for that matter). As we were reading through this part of the book, I began to think of the common insights or interests the drew me to the friends I have. With some it was a love of Jane Austen and BBC period dramas, with others it was TV shows, Barbies, and video games. Still others it was a true appreciation for classic movies (an appreciation that may have lead to choreographed dance routines involving umbrellas), or an enjoyment of being outdoors, or a weak spot for hot beverages. Sometimes a love of reading and writing led to two girls creating their own world and writing letters back and forth, imagining themselves the heroines in the epic story they were creating. I remember connecting with one friend over the common interest in Reformed theology and a common disinterest in Canadian Literature.
At times a person can grow frustrated with their friends. Sometimes we love someone so much that we see them hurting ourselves and no matter how we try to help, we discover we are helpless to stop them. All we can do is love them and pray that God will help them get through what they are going through.
Sometimes we can just feel far away from our friends. As I write this, I'm sitting down with some tea and orange slices.
I wish very much so that I could have a friend here to share this with me. What Jordan and I read gave me a very new appreciation for the infinite ways God has blessed me.
Now I don't want you to think that I'm feeling all lonely and sad, because the story doesn't end there. We went to church. It was a baptism and a communion service. We witnessed the baptism, listened to the sermon, and had just been served the bread. As I waited for the rest of the congregation to be served, I listened to the song the pianist was playing. It was "Power of Your Love."
I have not heard that song in years. All of I sudden I was thrown back into the Pentecostal church we attended when I was eleven and twelve, and we would sing this song semi-regularly. Might I add that I had one epic interpretive dance sequence figured out to the chorus. I began to hum along to the piano, and in my mind I started to sing the words.
Lord I come to know,
The weaknesses I see in me,
Will be swept away,
By the power of Your love.
Hold me close,
Let Your love surround me.
Bring me near,
Draw me to Your side,
And as I wait,
I will rise up like the eagles,
And I will soar with You,
Your Spirit leads me on,
In the power of Your love.
As I sat in the pew, my piece of bread resting on my palm, I began to feel overwhelmed with love. Despite my weaknesses and shortcomings, I became ever so aware of the love my God has for me.
With this in mind, I ate the bread, and then waited as the juice was passed around. The pianist began to play another song.
It was "Jesus Loves Me."
I have to be honest, I almost lost it. Despite images of me in Sunday School doing the actions to this song (or of me doing the actions with a group of kindergarten kids earlier that week), I was overcome. That song had never affected me that way before, but all I could do was agree that "Yes, Jesus loves me."
As we left church, I felt so blessed, so loved, and so cherished.
We went and had lunch with my Mom and Dad in-law and brother-in-law, and the went to the movies in honour of our anniversary (saw Selma and we really enjoyed it). Then it was a quiet night in.
And all through the rest of the day I was reminded of the presence of the God I love and serve. The One who can speak to me through church flashbacks, and who uses our six month anniversary as a means of reminding me of all the ways He has blessed me.
Friday, 9 January 2015
Post 21: Dancing to my own Beat
It has been a pretty crazy two and a half weeks since I wrote my last post. On Christmas Even we flew out West and got to spend four very fun (and also very quick) days with my family. There were games, movies, walks, runs, more food that you could imagine (hence the walks and runs), and FaceTime moments (my one brother and his wife were unable to make it). I think my husband enjoyed seeing where I get some of my quirks from. Like my, "What's that? We have a couple coming over? I better make enough appetizers for four or five couples... or more!" I am my mother's daughter, that much was definitely established over Christmas :) And that is alright with me!
We took a red-eye flight back home and before you knew it it was New Years. We spent this holiday with Jordan's family (I do so love extended Christmases). There was more food (noticing a pattern yet?), games, walks, and time to visit.
Needless to say, I have spent the last few weeks feeling very blessed. There is something incredible about knowing you are loved. About being surrounded by the people you love.
To top off our holiday, Jordan and I decided that this last weekend was the most opportune time in the world to finally paint our dining room. Our original plan had been to do it back in October. But that was the weekend my Opa passed away, and so it just kind of kept getting pushed back.
There is something doing the dining room definitely reinforced for me. You see, I'm a bit weird. I prefer quirky, but I know I'm weird. Anyone who knows me can attest to this. I tend to dance to the beat of my own drum. I told my kindergarten teacher I was in the depths of despair and learned to spell "chrysanthemum" by the time I was seven (thank you, Anne Shirley, for so forming my personality). By the time I was twelve I was still trying to sneak into Narnia through closets and wardrobes (this included the coat rooms at my school). If I'm listening to music when I'm running and you were to watch closely, you would notice that I will air drum while running. When I step outside and hear the wind blowing in the trees, I can close my eyes and imagine that I'm in some other world, one where the wind sings and I am able to dance with the trees.
While we were painting the dining room, we had some music playing and Bon Jovi's "Wanted: Dead or Alive" started. For anyone who has ever seen the show Supernatural, there is an scene near the end of season 2 where this song starts to play while the Winchester brothers, Sam and Dean, or in their car. And they sing along. It is perhaps the most epic sing-along ever, and I can't help but think of it and smile. Needless to say, I started singing along (I like to pretend I'm Dean Winchester). My husband, every gracious to his strange wife, willingly and of his own volition did Sam's echo.
A little while later, as we were cleaning up, I overheard my husband putting things away. As I listened, he was tidying in beat with the music. I mentioned this to him the next day and he was a little shocked as he had noticed no such thing. But then he said something to me that I will never forget. He said, "I like how your mind picks up on things like that."
I spent a good chunk of my late teen and early young adult years feeling odd and like I never quite fit in. My closest friends were always those who, like me (though in different ways), tended to see the world through a lens unlike many other people. But I know a lot of other people who would smile and give me a sort of "Aww... she's so cute in a weird sort of way" look. At times this was hard to deal with. I have a crazy imagination and the things my brain picks up on or notices don't make sense to a lot of people.
The way my mind works has also created a lot of discontent. Or maybe less discontent and more longing. I have an imagination that wonders if maybe the next time I turn the bend on the trail I will find myself in another world.
Over Christmas my Dad lent me a book. It's called If I had Lunch with C.S. Lewis. I am about a chapter and a half into it, but the first chapter deals with the idea of finding meaning in life, and what Lewis would have to say about that. The author, Alister McGrath, continually mentions Lewis' view of imagination and the role it plays in our lives. He argues that we have longings and desires that nothing in the world will ever be able to satisfy, and that as Christians this is because we were created for heaven. As Lewis says, "If I find in myself a desire which no experience in the world can satisfy, the most probably explanation is that I was made for another world."
I think for everyone, no matter how they look at the world, there is always some sort of a sense of longing. No matter how happy and content you are, there is still some part of you that longs for something more.
For me, I really appreciated the reminder that this is because I was created for another world. I want so badly to keep my eyes on God, to be reminded of Him in all that I say and do. And now, whether it's in a dance I see as music plays, in the fun times of singing along to the radio, or in the moments when the wind blows in such a way that I'm convinced it is caressing my face, I want to be reminded of my Creator. Of the One who not only created me with this kind of an imagination, but Who also shares it.
We took a red-eye flight back home and before you knew it it was New Years. We spent this holiday with Jordan's family (I do so love extended Christmases). There was more food (noticing a pattern yet?), games, walks, and time to visit.
Needless to say, I have spent the last few weeks feeling very blessed. There is something incredible about knowing you are loved. About being surrounded by the people you love.
To top off our holiday, Jordan and I decided that this last weekend was the most opportune time in the world to finally paint our dining room. Our original plan had been to do it back in October. But that was the weekend my Opa passed away, and so it just kind of kept getting pushed back.
There is something doing the dining room definitely reinforced for me. You see, I'm a bit weird. I prefer quirky, but I know I'm weird. Anyone who knows me can attest to this. I tend to dance to the beat of my own drum. I told my kindergarten teacher I was in the depths of despair and learned to spell "chrysanthemum" by the time I was seven (thank you, Anne Shirley, for so forming my personality). By the time I was twelve I was still trying to sneak into Narnia through closets and wardrobes (this included the coat rooms at my school). If I'm listening to music when I'm running and you were to watch closely, you would notice that I will air drum while running. When I step outside and hear the wind blowing in the trees, I can close my eyes and imagine that I'm in some other world, one where the wind sings and I am able to dance with the trees.
While we were painting the dining room, we had some music playing and Bon Jovi's "Wanted: Dead or Alive" started. For anyone who has ever seen the show Supernatural, there is an scene near the end of season 2 where this song starts to play while the Winchester brothers, Sam and Dean, or in their car. And they sing along. It is perhaps the most epic sing-along ever, and I can't help but think of it and smile. Needless to say, I started singing along (I like to pretend I'm Dean Winchester). My husband, every gracious to his strange wife, willingly and of his own volition did Sam's echo.
A little while later, as we were cleaning up, I overheard my husband putting things away. As I listened, he was tidying in beat with the music. I mentioned this to him the next day and he was a little shocked as he had noticed no such thing. But then he said something to me that I will never forget. He said, "I like how your mind picks up on things like that."
I spent a good chunk of my late teen and early young adult years feeling odd and like I never quite fit in. My closest friends were always those who, like me (though in different ways), tended to see the world through a lens unlike many other people. But I know a lot of other people who would smile and give me a sort of "Aww... she's so cute in a weird sort of way" look. At times this was hard to deal with. I have a crazy imagination and the things my brain picks up on or notices don't make sense to a lot of people.
The way my mind works has also created a lot of discontent. Or maybe less discontent and more longing. I have an imagination that wonders if maybe the next time I turn the bend on the trail I will find myself in another world.
Over Christmas my Dad lent me a book. It's called If I had Lunch with C.S. Lewis. I am about a chapter and a half into it, but the first chapter deals with the idea of finding meaning in life, and what Lewis would have to say about that. The author, Alister McGrath, continually mentions Lewis' view of imagination and the role it plays in our lives. He argues that we have longings and desires that nothing in the world will ever be able to satisfy, and that as Christians this is because we were created for heaven. As Lewis says, "If I find in myself a desire which no experience in the world can satisfy, the most probably explanation is that I was made for another world."
I think for everyone, no matter how they look at the world, there is always some sort of a sense of longing. No matter how happy and content you are, there is still some part of you that longs for something more.
For me, I really appreciated the reminder that this is because I was created for another world. I want so badly to keep my eyes on God, to be reminded of Him in all that I say and do. And now, whether it's in a dance I see as music plays, in the fun times of singing along to the radio, or in the moments when the wind blows in such a way that I'm convinced it is caressing my face, I want to be reminded of my Creator. Of the One who not only created me with this kind of an imagination, but Who also shares it.
Monday, 22 December 2014
Post 20: What is Love?
I have been thinking a lot about the idea of love lately (shocking, I know... it's not like it has been mentioned in more than a few posts or anything).
On Friday I was going through my old Bible and found the audio cd from our wedding. I have been looking for this cd pretty well since it was put into our hands, so I was thrilled to have found it. Since none of the pastors I follow have updated their podcasts (insert a "grrr") I decided I should listen to our wedding again.
Our pastor did an awesome job with our ceremony. I loved our vows and I loved his message on the verse we chose. The verse was Song of Songs 8:6-7:
On Friday I was going through my old Bible and found the audio cd from our wedding. I have been looking for this cd pretty well since it was put into our hands, so I was thrilled to have found it. Since none of the pastors I follow have updated their podcasts (insert a "grrr") I decided I should listen to our wedding again.
Our pastor did an awesome job with our ceremony. I loved our vows and I loved his message on the verse we chose. The verse was Song of Songs 8:6-7:
Place me like a seal over your heart,
like a seal on your arm;
for love is as strong as death,
its jealousy unyielding as the grave.
It burns like blazing fire,
like a mighty flame.
Many waters cannot quench love;
rivers cannot sweep it away.
If one were to give
all the wealth of one’s house for love,
it would be utterly scorned.
Pastor Jeff talked about the role of a seal during this time period, how it symbolized a covenant. He talked about passion. About the rains that will come. About remembering that day and the vows we spoke.
Two years ago I was given Tim Keller's book The Meaning of Marriage. I read through it as a single person the year before that (borrowed it from my Dad) and was thoroughly challenged. Since getting married, Jordan and I are slowly working our way through it as well. I love our weekend mornings of breakfast with Tim Keller :) And I love the discussion that we get to have after reading a section.
On Saturday I can't say as I wanted to discuss what we were reading. See, it was one of those sections that applied beyond a husband and wife and to all of our relationships. Keller talked all about making a decision to love. He quotes CS Lewis who talked about how over the long haul we can change our hearts through our actions.
You see, last week wasn't a very good week for me with our tenants. I found myself growing frustrated with them and the lack of respect that they seem to have for us and our belongings. I had a run-in with one of them and where I think I handled it well, I know that attitude really wasn't what it should have been.
The whole time we were reading this section all I could feel was conviction over my actions and attitude. I know God has been challenging me to love our tenants and I was choosing to ignore that. When it came time to discuss what we had read I tried to blow it off a bit. Instead of being able to that, Jordan looks at me and says, "This was a good section. It reminds me a lot of what you have been writing about in your blog."
Yeah. Couldn't really run or hide from my conviction after that :) So with a great deal of prayer I am working on my attitude.
But this, among a few other things I have noticed lately, causes me to wonder: What is love?
I don't want to get into the debate, but I have seen a lot of action on my Facebook homepage with regards to two names: Mark Driscoll and Rob Bell. I definitely have an opinion but don't really feel like this is the post to get into that. What I do see is two different groups that tend to tear the men down. One group does so in the name of truth, while the other does in the name of love. What I find interesting is that in 1 Corinthians 13, in the infamous love passage, Paul says that "Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth" (verse 6).
When Nicodemus comes to Jesus in John 3, Jesus tells him that the only way to see the kingdom of God and experience eternal life is through Him. He tells him that He didn't come to condemn the world but to save it. Yet He also says that if you do not believe you stand condemned.
Multiple times throughout the Gospels, Jesus heals the sick and broken. He breaks the rules and heals on the Sabbath. He reaches out to the undesirables and critiques those in positions of religious authority. But do you know what He also tells those He heals? Repeatedly Jesus says to "Go and sin no more."
Somehow Jesus exemplifies love and truth functioning together. He speaks the harsh truth to the religious leaders (by the way, I'm pretty sure He still loves them even though what He says is hard. If He didn't love them He probably wouldn't go to the extremes He did to try to get through to them). He still spends time with those society has deemed as unclean and unwanted. But those people also leave His presence changed. He tells them to sin no more.
Does loving my tenants mean letting them do whatever they want? Allowing them to walk all over us, threaten us, etc? No. But it also doesn't mean that I condemn them. There is truth. There is love. How to combine both of those if what I am pondering. How do I show love in a way that allows them to see the truth of Christ?
So these are my ponderings three days before Christmas.
If I don't write before husband and I take off for BC on the 24th, then I wish you all a Merry Christmas!
Wednesday, 17 December 2014
Post 19: Navel-Gazing in the Ideal Neighborhood
On Sunday night Jordan and I went for a walk. Almost every year my one sister and I would always go for after-dinner walks once Remembrance Day arrived. Every night we would watch more and more houses put up decorations. It also was a time when we just were able to connect with each other. Every year when we go back to my parents' for Christmas, the same thing happens. We all go for walks in the evenings and admire (or laugh at) the decorations. I have mentioned this to my husband so on Sunday night he suggested we go out before dinner.
And within minutes of starting our walk we had found our perfect neighborhood. It was full of heritage homes and large lots. And they were beautifully decorated. The next day I decided I would run through this area so that I could look at see what it looked like in daylight.
Well, I was so enamored with the area that I neglected to watch what my feet were doing. This is a bad idea when you're running. Before I knew I fallen flat on my face. I jumped up and finished the rest of my run, adrenaline kicking in. I got home, sat down, and noticed that my running tights had holes in both knees now. After further inspection I discovered blood. This was around the time when my adrenaline wore off :)
So I now grunt and groan whenever I have to move my legs, as the bruises, bumps, and abrasions like to remind me that they are present. But I also feel a sense of pride in my war wounds. They are evidence that I am still trying to stay motivated to exercise. And they also remind me that when yours eyes aren't where they should be, trouble will usually ensue.
A while ago I believe I shared a Tim Keller point about navel-gazing. About how when we always look at ourselves, we will only see failure. We will be continually overwhelmed with how low we really are and how we don't deserve God's grace. But when we keep our eyes on God, when we see ourselves in the light of His grace and goodness, when we realize our identity rests in Him, we become aware of how we have been saved.
I have been really trying hard to remember this. Whenever I start to feel gross or down about myself, I have been trying to turn to God. To ask Him to remind me of who I am in His eyes. To thank Him for all He has blessed me with (skinned knees and all).
In church on Sunday (yes, I finally go to make it to church!), we sung the song "Before the Throne of God Above." I want to share the words with you, because they really struck me and have stuck with me this week.
Before the throne of God above
I have a strong and perfect plea:A great High Priest, whose name is Love,Who ever lives and pleads for me.
My name is graven on His hands,My name is written on His heart;I know that while in heaven He standsNo tongue can bid me thence departNo tongue can bid me thence depart.
When Satan tempts me to despair,And tells me of the guilt within,Upward I look, and see Him thereWho made an end to all my sin.
Because the sinless Savior died,My sinful soul is counted free;For God the just is satisfiedTo look on Him and pardon meTo look on Him and pardon me
Behold Him there, the Risen LambMy perfect, spotless righteousness,The great unchangeable I am,The King of glory and of grace!
One with Himself I cannot die
My soul is purchased by His bloodMy life is hid with Christ on high,With Christ, my Savior and my GodWith Christ, my Savior and my God
No matter what is going on, this song reminds me of the God I serve. Of the God I love who also loves me. The God who knit me together, who knows my innermost thoughts and feelings. When I lost track of that, I need to remember who the One is that has my name written on His hands and His heart.
I love that third verse especially the last two lines, where it says "Upward I look, and see Him there Who made an end to all my sin."
Who am I? I am forgiven. I am loved. I am redeemed. I am set free.
I realize I haven't actually said all that much, but really I just wanted to share that song with all of you. I'm hoping that as you read it you too are reminded of who you are. That your identity is not wrapped up in your circumstances or determined by what you do or don't have. It is wrapped up in your life being "hid with Christ on high."
And with that I must go and pay some attention to my cat who has spent the duration of this post trying to crawl onto my lap :)
And within minutes of starting our walk we had found our perfect neighborhood. It was full of heritage homes and large lots. And they were beautifully decorated. The next day I decided I would run through this area so that I could look at see what it looked like in daylight.
Well, I was so enamored with the area that I neglected to watch what my feet were doing. This is a bad idea when you're running. Before I knew I fallen flat on my face. I jumped up and finished the rest of my run, adrenaline kicking in. I got home, sat down, and noticed that my running tights had holes in both knees now. After further inspection I discovered blood. This was around the time when my adrenaline wore off :)
So I now grunt and groan whenever I have to move my legs, as the bruises, bumps, and abrasions like to remind me that they are present. But I also feel a sense of pride in my war wounds. They are evidence that I am still trying to stay motivated to exercise. And they also remind me that when yours eyes aren't where they should be, trouble will usually ensue.
A while ago I believe I shared a Tim Keller point about navel-gazing. About how when we always look at ourselves, we will only see failure. We will be continually overwhelmed with how low we really are and how we don't deserve God's grace. But when we keep our eyes on God, when we see ourselves in the light of His grace and goodness, when we realize our identity rests in Him, we become aware of how we have been saved.
I have been really trying hard to remember this. Whenever I start to feel gross or down about myself, I have been trying to turn to God. To ask Him to remind me of who I am in His eyes. To thank Him for all He has blessed me with (skinned knees and all).
In church on Sunday (yes, I finally go to make it to church!), we sung the song "Before the Throne of God Above." I want to share the words with you, because they really struck me and have stuck with me this week.
Before the throne of God above
I have a strong and perfect plea:A great High Priest, whose name is Love,Who ever lives and pleads for me.
My name is graven on His hands,My name is written on His heart;I know that while in heaven He standsNo tongue can bid me thence departNo tongue can bid me thence depart.
When Satan tempts me to despair,And tells me of the guilt within,Upward I look, and see Him thereWho made an end to all my sin.
Because the sinless Savior died,My sinful soul is counted free;For God the just is satisfiedTo look on Him and pardon meTo look on Him and pardon me
Behold Him there, the Risen LambMy perfect, spotless righteousness,The great unchangeable I am,The King of glory and of grace!
One with Himself I cannot die
My soul is purchased by His bloodMy life is hid with Christ on high,With Christ, my Savior and my GodWith Christ, my Savior and my God
No matter what is going on, this song reminds me of the God I serve. Of the God I love who also loves me. The God who knit me together, who knows my innermost thoughts and feelings. When I lost track of that, I need to remember who the One is that has my name written on His hands and His heart.
I love that third verse especially the last two lines, where it says "Upward I look, and see Him there Who made an end to all my sin."
Who am I? I am forgiven. I am loved. I am redeemed. I am set free.
I realize I haven't actually said all that much, but really I just wanted to share that song with all of you. I'm hoping that as you read it you too are reminded of who you are. That your identity is not wrapped up in your circumstances or determined by what you do or don't have. It is wrapped up in your life being "hid with Christ on high."
And with that I must go and pay some attention to my cat who has spent the duration of this post trying to crawl onto my lap :)
Monday, 8 December 2014
Post 18: Waiting
Take a moment to use your imagination.
Imagine a newly married couple. Across the room you can see a fire roaring while Christmas carols play in the background. To their right is the tree they chopped down the previous day and decorated. They are sitting close together as they get ready to play a game.
Now, using your powerful imagination, zoom in a little bit more. You'll notice the couple is wrapped in blankets. That there is an oil heater between them. And that the roaring fire is really just the fireplace channel that they have put on in hopes of warming up.
Friday evening husband and I returned home from work to discover our furnace had stopped working. We got someone in that night. But he couldn't fully fix it. So we were told it would get fixed the next day. After a lovely little fiasco on Saturday, someone did come, only to tell us what had been diagnosed the previous day as a problem wasn't the problem. So they had to order a part but we were told we would have heat the next day. The next day rolled around (this would be the wrapped in blankets with the fireplace channel on day), only no part and no technician showed up. After three nights and going into what is now our fourth day without heat, I am patiently waiting for the technician to show up with the part and fix our furnace. He should be here any minute.
This wasn't quite the weekend we had anticipated having. My sister-in-law and her husband were up for the weekend, so it was supposed to be a time of getting and decorating trees, playing games, and just visiting.
Instead, husband and I spent most of the weekend waiting for furnace guys to show up.
It was still a good weekend. On Saturday morning we went with my in-laws to go chop down Christmas trees. I have only ever done this once before (two years ago with a friend), and have never actually had a real tree (can't decorate them as early as fake trees ;) ). So this was pretty exciting for me. After having coffee, husband and I returned home to wait for our technician. We set up the tree and decorated it. It is resting in our bay window and in my mind it looks perfect!
Saturday night we went back to Jordan's parents' place to have dinner and spend time with the family. We then got a not-so-nice call from the tenants that resulted in our having to leave and return home. I think I have done better this weekend with showing grace than I did the other week with the recycling bins.
Sunday was frustrating. It wasn't that many posts ago that I shared my excitement for advent. Between being sick one week and having to wait for a technician the next, I have thus far missed the first two advent services.
I have never enjoyed the waiting game. Knowing there is nothing you can do to make something come faster. Knowing your hands are tied and all you can do is wait. But there is often a great deal to be learned through the process of waiting.
I know a lot of people who are waiting. And they are waiting for a variety of things. Some for guidance and direction for the future. Others for a special someone. Still others for children. I have a picture that I moved with me across Canada that is hanging in our hallway. It is of a bench in a park.
Almost ten years ago I felt like God gave me the word "waiting." As such, benches have become symbolic to me.
Waiting is hard. It hurts. It usually means you are being strengthened and stretched and those are never fun things to go through. I hate waiting. Ask my sister what I get like if I have to wait too long for someone to get ready.
But now I think of that bench in the middle of a park. Waiting is not fun and it is not easy. It is horrible to not know what you are waiting for, or when what you are waiting for is going to come, or even if it will come. It tears you up inside. It leaves you feeling abandoned and alone and cold. But there is something about that bench that brings peace.
There can be peace is the waiting.
Jordan and I have gotten pretty frustrated this weekend. But we have also prayed. And I think what has struck me the most is how every time we come to God we leave thankful for what we do have. We don't have heat and we're freezing. Our tenants don't have heat and they're freezing. But we have a house. We have the ability to get our furnace fixed. We were still able to get our Christmas tree. We could still spend time with our family. Despite everything going on with the furnace, it is still cheaper than they originally thought it would be. And we still have each other.
We have had to wait. But we are learning to be thankful. We are learning to see the ways that God has blessed us and is still blessing us even as we wrap ourselves in blankets and turn on the fireplace channel.
I realize no heat might seem little compared to what other people are waiting for. And maybe you will read this and feel like I have no compassion for what you are going through and I don't really understand. And in some cases you're right--I probably don't understand. But I do believe there is peace in learning to give thanks in every circumstance.
And so, as I continue to wait on the technician to show up, I will continue to give thanks. I will thank God that I had a house to clean this morning and the supplies to clean it with. I will thank God that I could get up and have breakfast with my husband before he went to work. I will thank Him for the grace He has given me in dealing with our tenants this weekend. I will thank Him for reminding me to turn to Him during this time.
I will give thanks, and while I wait I will rest in the peace that He is Immanuel.
Imagine a newly married couple. Across the room you can see a fire roaring while Christmas carols play in the background. To their right is the tree they chopped down the previous day and decorated. They are sitting close together as they get ready to play a game.
Now, using your powerful imagination, zoom in a little bit more. You'll notice the couple is wrapped in blankets. That there is an oil heater between them. And that the roaring fire is really just the fireplace channel that they have put on in hopes of warming up.
Friday evening husband and I returned home from work to discover our furnace had stopped working. We got someone in that night. But he couldn't fully fix it. So we were told it would get fixed the next day. After a lovely little fiasco on Saturday, someone did come, only to tell us what had been diagnosed the previous day as a problem wasn't the problem. So they had to order a part but we were told we would have heat the next day. The next day rolled around (this would be the wrapped in blankets with the fireplace channel on day), only no part and no technician showed up. After three nights and going into what is now our fourth day without heat, I am patiently waiting for the technician to show up with the part and fix our furnace. He should be here any minute.
This wasn't quite the weekend we had anticipated having. My sister-in-law and her husband were up for the weekend, so it was supposed to be a time of getting and decorating trees, playing games, and just visiting.
Instead, husband and I spent most of the weekend waiting for furnace guys to show up.
It was still a good weekend. On Saturday morning we went with my in-laws to go chop down Christmas trees. I have only ever done this once before (two years ago with a friend), and have never actually had a real tree (can't decorate them as early as fake trees ;) ). So this was pretty exciting for me. After having coffee, husband and I returned home to wait for our technician. We set up the tree and decorated it. It is resting in our bay window and in my mind it looks perfect!
Saturday night we went back to Jordan's parents' place to have dinner and spend time with the family. We then got a not-so-nice call from the tenants that resulted in our having to leave and return home. I think I have done better this weekend with showing grace than I did the other week with the recycling bins.
Sunday was frustrating. It wasn't that many posts ago that I shared my excitement for advent. Between being sick one week and having to wait for a technician the next, I have thus far missed the first two advent services.
I have never enjoyed the waiting game. Knowing there is nothing you can do to make something come faster. Knowing your hands are tied and all you can do is wait. But there is often a great deal to be learned through the process of waiting.
I know a lot of people who are waiting. And they are waiting for a variety of things. Some for guidance and direction for the future. Others for a special someone. Still others for children. I have a picture that I moved with me across Canada that is hanging in our hallway. It is of a bench in a park.
Almost ten years ago I felt like God gave me the word "waiting." As such, benches have become symbolic to me.
Waiting is hard. It hurts. It usually means you are being strengthened and stretched and those are never fun things to go through. I hate waiting. Ask my sister what I get like if I have to wait too long for someone to get ready.
But now I think of that bench in the middle of a park. Waiting is not fun and it is not easy. It is horrible to not know what you are waiting for, or when what you are waiting for is going to come, or even if it will come. It tears you up inside. It leaves you feeling abandoned and alone and cold. But there is something about that bench that brings peace.
There can be peace is the waiting.
Jordan and I have gotten pretty frustrated this weekend. But we have also prayed. And I think what has struck me the most is how every time we come to God we leave thankful for what we do have. We don't have heat and we're freezing. Our tenants don't have heat and they're freezing. But we have a house. We have the ability to get our furnace fixed. We were still able to get our Christmas tree. We could still spend time with our family. Despite everything going on with the furnace, it is still cheaper than they originally thought it would be. And we still have each other.
We have had to wait. But we are learning to be thankful. We are learning to see the ways that God has blessed us and is still blessing us even as we wrap ourselves in blankets and turn on the fireplace channel.
I realize no heat might seem little compared to what other people are waiting for. And maybe you will read this and feel like I have no compassion for what you are going through and I don't really understand. And in some cases you're right--I probably don't understand. But I do believe there is peace in learning to give thanks in every circumstance.
And so, as I continue to wait on the technician to show up, I will continue to give thanks. I will thank God that I had a house to clean this morning and the supplies to clean it with. I will thank God that I could get up and have breakfast with my husband before he went to work. I will thank Him for the grace He has given me in dealing with our tenants this weekend. I will thank Him for reminding me to turn to Him during this time.
I will give thanks, and while I wait I will rest in the peace that He is Immanuel.
Wednesday, 3 December 2014
Post 17: Stumbling at the Start of Advent.
I apologize for not writing last week. I ended up getting called in to supply teach fairly regularly and then by Thursday I was getting sick. Husband and I spent the weekend trying to get better (while also going to Niagara Falls with my in-laws). While the wind and cold water spray probably didn't help our being sick, I was pretty excited to finally get to see the falls. And I definitely fell in love with Niagara-on-the-Lake. I had never been to Niagara, so it was wonderful to get to go. And the falls are gorgeous at night with the lights shining on them! Eating dinner at the revolving restaurant was pretty spectacular too :)
After spending all day Sunday at home resting, we were feeling a little better come Monday. Which is good since I ended up getting called in to work Monday and Tuesday. Hence why I didn't write earlier. Today I ran errands and tutored and then I'm working Thursday and Friday. As sad as I am that people are getting sick, I really appreciate that it means I'm working four days this week! Does that make me a horrible person?
There have been some decisions in the last week and a bit since I wrote that I'm proud of. Others not so much. Like bursting into tears when my GPS got me lost yesterday. I was subbing at a school about 45km away. And the school is close to Toronto, so traffic gets bad. There was some snow so the highway was gridlocked. My GPS was taking me on a route that was supposed to be quicker than taking the highway with that kind of traffic. The problem was the road it wanted me to take was actually closed. And my battery ended up dying on my phone. And I didn't know where I was or how to get back to an area that I knew. And it was dark and raining/snowing. I believe the last text I sent my husband was I'm lost. Battery is dead. Poor guy.
I sobbed. I was scared. I ended up missing tutoring because of how late I was. And I prayed. As unhappy as I am with how I bawled my eyes out and how much I screamed at my GPS, at least I remembered to pray. And at just the right moment I looked through my teary eyes and saw a small sign pointing me towards the 403.
I have never been so happy to make it onto a gridlocked highway in all of my life. It took me two and a half hours to get home, but I made it home. I was safe.
The moment I`m really not happy about happened last Wednesday. After my previous post about advent, I felt challenged to look at my life. What would it look like if I lived as if I actually believed God is with me. And the way I felt the most challenged to put this into action was with our tenants (our house is a duplex--we live in the top unit and rent out the bottom unit). For the most part they are really good tenants. But, as happens when you interact with people, sometimes I get annoyed with them and they get annoyed with us. Anyway, I felt like God was calling me to love them. And I figured I could manage that.
So last Wednesday morning I woke up. It was garbage day so as I put our garbage and recycling out, I noticed they had not put their recycling out yet. Normally their bins are out before ours. So I grabbed them and put them out too.
I have to be honest with you all--I felt pretty self-satisfied with myself for doing this. I know--pretty sad. Definitely Christ-like, right? Or not. Then I got home. And I noticed that their bins were back on the porch. Ours were not. Ours were knocked over on the yard.
So I went inside and through a hissy-fit. I am really not proud of myself. In less than twelve hours I went from feeling like I could really try to love like Christ, that I could emulate Him, to stomping around my house and feeling abused.
Talk about an epic failure.
But there is something I have learned about God. And it's that He bestows grace upon me. I know I'm going to stumble. And He knows this too. But I do honestly want to live my life as one that glorifies Him. I love Him and I want to show His love to others. So by His grace I can try again.
So with those humbling thoughts in mind, I will now go cuddle with my cat who is very patiently waiting to get on my lap (he's not allowed to sit on me when I blog... he kind of gets in the way of my typing), and return to watching the Michael Buble Christmas special.
*This is him waiting to be allowed on my lap*
But I would like to challenge others to think about what it means to live believing that Jesus truly is Emmanuel. At this time of year it is really easy to get caught up in ourselves or our immediate family and friends. Or we can give money to the Salvation Army or donate food to the food bank. And all of those are great, please don't get me wrong. But I think of Jesus loving those who were deemed unloveable. And I feel challenged. Who is there for you to love right now? What would it look like to love them as Jesus does?
After spending all day Sunday at home resting, we were feeling a little better come Monday. Which is good since I ended up getting called in to work Monday and Tuesday. Hence why I didn't write earlier. Today I ran errands and tutored and then I'm working Thursday and Friday. As sad as I am that people are getting sick, I really appreciate that it means I'm working four days this week! Does that make me a horrible person?
There have been some decisions in the last week and a bit since I wrote that I'm proud of. Others not so much. Like bursting into tears when my GPS got me lost yesterday. I was subbing at a school about 45km away. And the school is close to Toronto, so traffic gets bad. There was some snow so the highway was gridlocked. My GPS was taking me on a route that was supposed to be quicker than taking the highway with that kind of traffic. The problem was the road it wanted me to take was actually closed. And my battery ended up dying on my phone. And I didn't know where I was or how to get back to an area that I knew. And it was dark and raining/snowing. I believe the last text I sent my husband was I'm lost. Battery is dead. Poor guy.
I sobbed. I was scared. I ended up missing tutoring because of how late I was. And I prayed. As unhappy as I am with how I bawled my eyes out and how much I screamed at my GPS, at least I remembered to pray. And at just the right moment I looked through my teary eyes and saw a small sign pointing me towards the 403.
I have never been so happy to make it onto a gridlocked highway in all of my life. It took me two and a half hours to get home, but I made it home. I was safe.
The moment I`m really not happy about happened last Wednesday. After my previous post about advent, I felt challenged to look at my life. What would it look like if I lived as if I actually believed God is with me. And the way I felt the most challenged to put this into action was with our tenants (our house is a duplex--we live in the top unit and rent out the bottom unit). For the most part they are really good tenants. But, as happens when you interact with people, sometimes I get annoyed with them and they get annoyed with us. Anyway, I felt like God was calling me to love them. And I figured I could manage that.
So last Wednesday morning I woke up. It was garbage day so as I put our garbage and recycling out, I noticed they had not put their recycling out yet. Normally their bins are out before ours. So I grabbed them and put them out too.
I have to be honest with you all--I felt pretty self-satisfied with myself for doing this. I know--pretty sad. Definitely Christ-like, right? Or not. Then I got home. And I noticed that their bins were back on the porch. Ours were not. Ours were knocked over on the yard.
So I went inside and through a hissy-fit. I am really not proud of myself. In less than twelve hours I went from feeling like I could really try to love like Christ, that I could emulate Him, to stomping around my house and feeling abused.
Talk about an epic failure.
But there is something I have learned about God. And it's that He bestows grace upon me. I know I'm going to stumble. And He knows this too. But I do honestly want to live my life as one that glorifies Him. I love Him and I want to show His love to others. So by His grace I can try again.
So with those humbling thoughts in mind, I will now go cuddle with my cat who is very patiently waiting to get on my lap (he's not allowed to sit on me when I blog... he kind of gets in the way of my typing), and return to watching the Michael Buble Christmas special.
*This is him waiting to be allowed on my lap*
But I would like to challenge others to think about what it means to live believing that Jesus truly is Emmanuel. At this time of year it is really easy to get caught up in ourselves or our immediate family and friends. Or we can give money to the Salvation Army or donate food to the food bank. And all of those are great, please don't get me wrong. But I think of Jesus loving those who were deemed unloveable. And I feel challenged. Who is there for you to love right now? What would it look like to love them as Jesus does?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)