Wow-ful Women Wednesdays

Well, I made it to about 3:40 before I totally lost it. I call that progress.

"You are everything you've promised....Alleluia"

Heard at My House - The Four Year Old Theologian Edition

Setting: Sitting around the lunch table explaining that being told in the Bible to call God "Abba Father" is like being told to call him "Daddy".

4 year old T: Mom, God is our *real* Daddy. And so we should not want to disobey him. And so that's why I'm really trying to not disobey.

(mental note to self: grab a tissue and enjoy this moment, but then remember not to use this profession of faith against her the next time she does disobey!)

Wow-ful Women Wednesday

Ah, yes. Here it is: a link to the blog I wish I wrote. I know I usually post a song on a day like today, but this post is so absolutely where I'm at these days. And I believe it will ring true with all my church family and our MATEO dreams. For those of you who don't know what that means, please ask me. I'd love to tell you. In the meantime, read this post by Ann Voskamp, a mom, just like me, who has kids to teach, and words to speak and write,...and seeds to sow.

Read her gorgeous post here.

A Spring in my Step

In my neck of the woods today we are experiencing a perfectly lovely day. There is a nice slow thaw with no breeze to speak of, and mostly sunnyish skies. And I was forced to get outside today with my daughter to help her deliver flyers. I'm not going to lie: I felt like helping with the flyers about as much as I wanted to mark my children's math books (oh ya. I had to do that too.)

Anyhow, out we went, and I was prepared not to grumble because I told a friend of mine to ask me later if I grumbled (hurray for accountability). But before I even had a chance to convince myself not to grumble, I caught up with the mail man.

We have a nice mail man. He is always smiling and always has his music turned WAY up and sometimes he sings along. He teases my kids about skipping school on a sunny afternoon. He walks with purpose, but in a sauntering kind of way. He looks like he enjoys his route and isn't in a rush to finish it. I should find out his name and give him a Christmas Card next year.

But, as usual, I digress.

So I catch up with him at a house where I have flyers to put in the mail box and he has, well, mail. He asks me, "Is that your daughter pulling the wagon over there?"

I answer in the affirmative.

He says, "You know what? You have the nicest kids. They are always so polite and friendly and respectful. Your daughter was just saying hi to me. I have 3 kids of my own and so I always notice other people's kids, especially when they are nice."

*sigh*

And so, I remember that the point of my life is not my own agenda, (which, by the way, has nothing to do with much other than drinking tea and reading books today) but raising these beautiful children in such a way as to touch someone else's life and give them a glimpse of joy.

And for some reason, all of this -- the lovely weather, the lovely conversation, the lovely realization, the lovely children -- made me think of this song.

Maybe this is the 80's musical spin on "Bloom where you are planted."

Wow-ful Women Wednesdays

Some days it is just good to be reminded there are bigger issues in this world than the little nothings that I deal with. And it is good to be reminded that the best way to get over my troubles is to reach over to help some one else.

Wow-ful Women Wednesdays - Christmas Edition

This song was brand new to me last year, and I posted it near Christmas. I do believe it bears re-posting. I still always think I can get through this song dry-eyed, and everytime I'm wrong.

A Baby Changes Everything -- Faith Hill

Compassion Bloggers

Our family has a child that we sponsor through Compassion. His name is Juan and he lives in Colombia. It is truly amazing how connected one can feel to a child they will likely never meet just by reading their letters and looking at their pictures.

Juan was in a very serious accident a few years ago, and we have prayed with him and his family as we wait for his recovery. It is a long slow process, especially considering the limitations of finances and access to medical care that Juan's family has.

We praise the Lord for the Compassion Project and the local church that are coming alongside Juan's family to help support them and care for them in very practical ways. We rejoice when Juan says that he loves Jesus and knows that God can heal him, if He chooses. We are so grateful to be even a small part of his life. And we know that we often get too busy and get behind in our letter writing, wondering what difference a note from us might make.

Well, if I ever had any doubt about the difference a sponsor makes in these kids' lives, along comes this video. If you aren't already a subscriber to Shaun Groves' blog, you really should be. If nothing else, seeing his blog will remind you to write to your child. And if you haven't sponsored a child yet, maybe this will be the nudge you need to do it. What a difference a prayer makes. I love this story.
God is so good!

Please follow this link to see this testimony from the family of the girl that Shaun Groves' sponsors.

And then follow this link to learn more about how you can make a difference in a child's life.

Happily See-Through

We teach our kids about the omniscience and omnipresence of our God. That is, we let them know that God knows everything, sees everything, is everywhere, and so on. We can't hide from him. He is always by our side. He is always aware of what is going on with us. And this is a comfort.

That's what we tell them.

That's what I believe.

But since we're all about honesty and fuel for thought around here I figure I better 'fess up a bit about something. There is a verse that we have taught our kids which is meant to be a comfort when they are comparing themselves to others: Man looks at outward appearances but the Lord examines the heart.

So don't worry if kids laugh at what you look like, it is what is on the inside that counts. Don't worry if what you tried to do failed on the outside, the Lord knows what good intentions you had in your heart.

But....

I have always quaked with fear about that. I mean, really, isn't it often so much easier to look good on the outside? To fake a happy heart when inside your heart is throwing a selfish hissy fit? (Someone say amen, please. Don't leave me hanging)

I don't want to be a hypocrite. I don't want to be a "white-washed tomb" looking nice on the outside, but actually being cold, hard and dead on the inside. I want to not shake in my boots when I think about the Lord examining my heart.

And here is the good news: I don't have to quake. I don't have to be afraid of what he'll find. Because when I follow Christ, when I acknowledge his lordship over my life, then it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me.

Charles Spurgeon said: "Rejoice then, believer, in this: thou art accepted "in the beloved." Thou lookest within, and thou sayest, "There is nothing acceptable here!" But look at Christ, and see if there is not everything acceptable there. Thy sins trouble thee; but God has cast thy sins behind his back, and thou art accepted in the Righteous One."

When God the Father, the holy judge, looks in at my heart he no longer sees my sin and my selfishness, but rather sees the righteousness, the goodness, the perfection, of his Son poured out over me and in me and through me.

Transparency has never felt so good.

Accounting, Of Sorts

My husband keeps our books and manages our finances. I love that guy. He has a great analytical, planning mind and it helps us to keep on track and stay on budget. I cannot tell you how helpful that is and how grateful I am to have that kind of structure in our home.

Now, to be sure, he keeps me “in the loop” and takes my input into account with the budgeting: how much do we need for groceries? How much for diapers? How much for curriculum and extra-curricular activities? We discuss our plans and goals for the year and make decisions accordingly. All in all, it is a great system.

And really, the hardest thing he asks me to do is to give him all of my receipts for anything I didn’t spend cash for. Easy breezy, right?

Ha.

See, sometimes I’m very good at putting them on his desk right away. Come home from store: take receipt out of purse: place on desk. Three simple steps. And really, most of my buying is done with cash anyway so the receipts shouldn’t add up in my wallet at all. However, being human, sometimes they do congregate in my purse, and seemingly multiply, until I have a several of them making a crinkly, noisy stash which adds up to a whole lot of anxiety on my part.

Now if you have spent any time reading my blog, you may have discovered that I have an over-active guilt gland. I can feel guilty about things I’ve done, things I might do, things you think I might have done, and really, on a good day, even about things *you’ve* done. I’m a guilt over-achiever. So as the receipts pile up in my wallet, I start to carry a heavy, self-imposed load of guilt. The longer I wait to finally get them out of my purse, the harder it is to do, and then the more receipts there are, and then the harder it is to do, so the longer I wait, and then the more receipts there are, and the harder it is… What a cycle!

Something else needs to be said here before I continue. The receipts in my wallet are not for crazy things. They are not representing some wild shopping spree at a shoe store, or book store, or fast food restaurant. They are not the proof of frivolous spending. They will show that I have purchased gas, groceries, shampoo, a gift for the birthday girl: all things that are budgeted and accounted for.

Also of note, is the fact that my husband has never made a big deal about this. He is not a grumpy guy who is waiting to make me feel bad for being slow in getting him the receipts. I’m not feeling guilty because I know he is going to be angry. He never is.

The guilt comes from .....

Please read the rest of my latest Heart of The Matter Article here.

Heard At My House

Daughter A, age 9: "I'm glad I'm me. I mean, I probably wouldn't be sad if I was somebody else either, but I'm glad I'm me. I just like it. And this house is the coziest house ever. And I love walking through the house and smelling all of Mom's yummy cooking smells. [extended, contented sigh] I think I'm just pretty happy."

Yes, dear Sunshine. You are just pretty happy. And we are so glad you are you, too. I couldn't imagine life with you!

Impressing God

How long have I sat thinking about this post? How long have I had a weight on my heart about this post? *sigh*

My first stirrings and musings on this matter came some 6 years ago when I read "An Unstoppable Force" by Erwin McManus. The whole book kind of got under my skin. And if I'm being honest, I felt sort of annoyed by the premise and presumption in the book. I don't own a copy of the book, so forgive me as I paraphrase, as best as I can, a recurring theme in his writing that got my goat. He would talk about how praying for our children to be safe was a poor thing to pray for. That our goal for ourselves and our children and our churches should be to live dangerous lives for Christ. God wasn't calling us to lives of safety, but to lives of danger, and risk, and doing big things for God.

Now, I agree that the Word promises that we will have trial. We will have tribulations. There is no denying that saints throughout history, and even to today, are suffering for the dangerous righteousness they are living out. And there is no denying that Christ himself did not choose an easy life of safety during his time on earth.

I agree that we need to live lives that are full of action. James says, "Faith without works is dead" and "Be not merely hearers of the word but doers also". We need to act. Jesus acted. I get that. I know the Parable of the Talents. I know how displeased the Manager was with the worker who merely buried his talents, folding his hands and twiddling his thumbs in safety and ease. And I know how pleased he was with the workers who used and developed and risked the talents for a greater reward. I know these truths.

And don't get me wrong: I know myself well enough to know that at heart I am lazy and selfish, and prone to justify my laziness and selfishness under the guise of "being cautious" or "being reasonable". I am also prone to worry, and so the easy thing for me would be to bubble wrap my children and say it was "just being a good steward of the gifts God has given to me".

And also don't get me wrong: The last thing I want is for the church to be a bunch of complacent, comfortable, casserole-loving, isolated, irrelevant, nice guys.

So I struggle with this. I don't want to live a meaningless life of ease and inactivity. I don't want to displease God by wasting the days he has given to me. And yet I look at the life he has given me and wonder how a mom of 7 is supposed to "go and do some big thing to impress God"? I mean, after all, I'm *just* a stay at home mom.

And then I see a video like this...



...and I don't disagree. I think he's right. On many, many levels, he is absolutely right.

But...

Will someone say that being a mom *is* doing a big thing for God?

Will someone please say that choosing to quit your job, live on one income, and stay home and homeschool is living a scary, crazy, unsafe life for some of us?

Will someone please say that being a mom or a dad who works all day, shining the light of Christ to his or her co-workers, and then coming home and making supper, reading stories, praying with the kids, and selflessly spending even more weary hours shining the light at home, and ushering your children into the kingdom of Christ through faith *is* doing a 'big thing for God'?

Will someone please say that working joyfully day in and day out on the factory assembly line,

and honouring your parents,

and loving the saints,

and serving in the local church,

and tithing,

and living your whole life--every second of every day--as a living sacrifice of worship to Christ is just as much a "big thing for God" as anything else you can dream up?

For some wholehearted Christ-seekers, the call will, in fact, be to pick up and spread the gospel to the far-reaching, life-threatening corners of the globe, and to them I say, "Thank you for going, and thank you for making those sacrifices, and thank you for being faithful. May the Lord bless you for your courage and faithful obedience." Truly.

But for the rest of us wholehearted Christ-seekers, who, for the time at least, are being called to stay home and just shine for Christ here, let me say to you, "Thank you for staying, and thank you for making these sacrifices, and thank you for being faithful. May the Lord bless you for your courage and faithful obedience, too."

We need to remember, *I* need to remember, that God is self-sufficient. He doesn't need me or you to dream up something wonderful to do. He doesn't need our service, he doesn't need our "staying" or our "going". However, He does invite us. And when and where and how he invites us better stir our hearts to specific obedience, no matter how different our invitation looks from that of the person next to us.

"One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much, and one who is dishonest in a very little is also dishonest in much." "Everyone to whom much was given, of him much will be required, and from him to whom they entrusted much, they will demand more." (Luke 16:10, Luke 12:48)

Lord, you have entrusted me with much here. Let me be faithful in this before I venture off to do anything else. Help me to hear your voice, and your call on my life so I can obey the things you've called me to do, and not try to respond to someone else's call. Help me to remain content in this big thing you've called me to instead of longingly looking for some other way to "impress" you. Thank you for this call, and for this mission. I pray that you will find me to be a faithful servant. And I do pray that you will embolden your church to do the things that please you, starting with the small acts of obedience and faithfulness right in front of our faces.

Wow-ful Women Wednesdays

Have I posted this one before? I should have. Can't believe it has taken me so long...If only I knew the message this song presents when I was in high school... or university....or...

I am so inexpressibly grateful that it isn't up to me to become beautiful enough or holy enough or kind enough or just enough or anything enough. It is the righteousness of Christ draped over me, wrapped around me, saturating me that allows me to stand in front of the Lord, clean and acceptable and beautiful. I don't need to try any harder. You make me beautiful. You make me stand in awe. You are beautiful, Lord. That's all that matters.

Honouring

My Grandmother is 91. When I was little, she was old. She's always been old. I remember when she would go out on my great-uncle's fishing boat for the day with my Grandpa. I remember thinking, "Someone needs to tell her she's too old to do that. That's not safe." She was in her 60's... I guess that seemed old when I was 8.

She has always had gray hair that my mom would put in rollers for her. Little pokey black rollers with metal brush-hairs to keep her short little hair nicely fluffy. She was super cute. My mom would stand behind her, and Grandma, seated and holding the bag of rollers in her lap, would pass them over her shoulder, one at a time, to my mom.

Grandma loved going shopping with my Grandpa. They would just spend the day tooling around and eating at Bob's Fish and Chips on Hamilton Road. Some days they'd pick up Mary Brown's Chicken to eat at home on TV trays, watching a Blue Jays game.

When my Grandpa was dying of cancer, she cared for him at home, administering many, many pills and cooking several meals a day trying to find something, anything that would taste good to my Grandpa. And when he would fall asleep in his hospital cot they had set up in the guest room, Grandma would sleep on the single guest bed, holding his hand through the hospital bed bars. Then in the morning, Grandpa would say "Mary, I think there's room up here for you if I squeeze over a bit." And so, they'd have a little snuggle before starting another day of pills and no appetite.

When my Grandpa died of his cancer, my Grandma said, "I'll never be as happy again as I was with Ed, but I'll be as happy as I can."

Somewhere during these last 15 years since Grandpa died, Grandma forgot that optimistic outlook. Grandma has forgotten quite a bit, actually.

And so, as she is forgetting where she put her keys ("There, on your wrist on the elastic, Grandma, like they always are."), or when she moved into this new apartment ("19 months ago, Grandma"), or why she can't go home ("Well, you sold the house a decade ago, Grandma"), or even if she ate breakfast, lunch, and supper today, my Mom and Dad, and my aunt and uncle are caring for her and honouring her in the most tireless, loving, compassionate way.

My pastor recently looked at the fifth commandment, as we have been studying the Ten Commandments, in which we are called to Honour our fathers and mothers. My Mom is doing a brilliant job of honouring her mom in these, potentially, last days for my Grandma. She visits almost everyday (except for the days my uncle visits), does her laundry (even though the staff at Grandma's home would do it...Grandma just feels strange letting strangers touch her laundry), answers dozens of phone calls a day some days, and takes homemade cookies and fresh fruit for her to nibble on when she can't remember that she's eaten today. She even still does my Grandma's hair up in rollers, even though now, for the first time in decades, my Grandma is too tired to pass the rollers over her shoulder. She often falls asleep in the chair while my Mom puts her hair up.

What is remarkable to me in all this is not that my Mom is loving her mom so beautifully. That's not surprising. What is surprising is how she is able to consistently serve her with patience and love even when my Grandma gets tired and cranky and ungrateful. And even when my Grandma forgets who my Mom is. Somehow, my Grandma remembers that she has a daughter named Linda. She just can't connect the fact that this lady who comes every day, is her daughter Linda. My Mom just puts on a brave face and reminds her. "I am your Linda, Mom. I am your Linda." And even when Grandma forgets and calls her by another name, or asks my Mom, "When will Linda come and see me?" for the hundredth time, my Mom still honours her, and loves her, and serves her.

When I ask her why she keeps going and how she keeps going, my Mom just smiles and says, "My Mom has taken such good care of me for so long, and put up with me when I was sick, and cranky, and grumpy, and ungrateful, and undeserving of being loved. She is a woman who deserves to be honoured. She's my Mom."

Lord, make me a woman who is humble enough and others-centered enough to honour other women in my life. And make me a mother who is easy for her kids to honour as I age because of how I cared for them in their early years. I pray my daughters and my sons would honour me because I have earned and kept their genuine love and admiration, not merely their biblical duty. And bless my Mom and Dad today in a special way, giving them endurance and longsuffering as they sacrificially care for my Grandma. And for the other women I know who are caring for their eldery parents, Lord I pray for them too, that you would give them an extra measure of mercy and patience as they love those you've entrusted to them.

True Confessions

I am not as cranky as I like to give myself credit for. I suppose I like the idea, in a sick, twisted kind of way, of being an old, grumpy, curmudgeon. You know, except with a soft and sweet interior that only certain people can unearth by a touch or a song, or a well-timed box of chocolates and a non-fat, no-whip mocha.

But I digress.

I find I'm smiling a lot lately. And I'm of two minds about why this is: First, I've been practicing. No, I'm not kidding. Our church is putting on a Christmas play, and I'm cast as a happy person. So I need to practice smiling. And making it look natural. I've worked myself up into many a headache this month by oversmiling. Just like on my wedding day, when, had the photographer asked us to pose for one more shot, I would have popped a vein in my forehead. Chris and I both showed up for our dinner asking our guests if anyone had Tylenol in their purses. That was A LOT of smiling.

This December has been much the same.

Now, secondly, I'm smiling a lot because, wait for it, I'm actually a pretty happy person. And why not? There is a lot to be happy about. And even the things that maybe aren't so happyifying are there to give me a chance to practice more smiling. And to find something happy in it.

So try this: Next time you go to the Superstore on a Saturday afternoon 2 weeks before Christmas because you need just a couple of things, for goodness sake don't try to find a parking spot up close. Don't even look. It will stress you out and steal your joy. Just go to the back of the lot, on purpose, find a nice open spot along the back of the property and deeply breathe in the crisp air as you saunter towards the store. And when you walk past 3 spots that are closer, don't chide yourself for not parking there: smile, and be glad that someone else will have the happy moment of finding that good spot.

That's just one little tiny thing you can do to make yourself smile. What about actually asking the girl behind the clothing store counter who has been on her feet in the hot mall listening to canned Christmas music for 72 hours straight, and who has been dealing with cranky curmudgeons, what about asking her how she is doing, and what her plans are for the 25th? You could just do that. And smile at her too, okay? She has not been smiled at enough today.

What about when you see someone in a store, or at work, or at church who looks really pretty, or they are wearing a lovely scarf, TELL THEM!!! Oh please, just tell, even a complete stranger "I really like your scarf. It looks so pretty." You will make their day!

I don't have any empirical data on this next one, but men, I have it on good authority that you like to DO something to feel smiley. Grand. How about returning someone's shopping cart in that crazy busy parking lot for them? Or how about bringing up your neighbours recycling and garbage bins to their garage door. Wouldn't this be nice? It will make you smile, and of course it will make them smile (unless you live next door to a cranky person, but maybe you are the one to coax their inner smiler out!).

What I would love is for all of us to gather at some point and talk about how many headaches we've had this Christmas, not on account of too much stress and not enough sleep, but rather on account of so much smiling!

Try it! And I tell you what; I'll just give up my grumpy facade if you will! Let's show our neighbours and co-workers and family members just how happy we are, and show them that there is always something to smile about, no matter how tricky things seem.

Really, if nothing else, if you really can't think of anything else smile-worthy, you can think of the best smile-making thing of all time: the celebration of the birth of Jesus, and all that that entails. Can you think of anything better? What's making you smile these days?

Wow-ful Women Wednesdays

For Remembrance Day....

This song is so.much.fun.! Plus, you'll never beat the original of this, no matter how many great artists have tried to redo it (except maybe you, Kris...).

Plus plus, I love that at this time in history, these ladies, in these outfits, with these "dance moves" would have been some hot stuff! Gotta love modesty!

And all I know about bugle boys is what my band teacher said many moons ago: "Don't look at the trumpet section: it only encourages them."

Wow-ful Women Wednesdays

Okay. So I really wanted there to be a real video for this song. However, you will need to be okay with the lyrics on a page. The other option was a photo of Natalie Grant. At least this has movement of some kind.

I was in the car and this came on the radio. I love the picture of being changed by simply being in the presence of a perfect God. He doesn't say "Come as you are and stay in the same miserable state". He says "Come as you are and I will make you like Me."

Yes Please. That's what I want.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow....

There you are; sitting as a family in your only-just-enough-seatbelts vehicle. Driving somewhere just longer than anyone wants to go today. And it starts. Nothing major. No hitting. No shoving. No “Dad, she’s BREATHING on me.” Just small little verbal jabs. Just little changes in tone creating a more sarcastic, biting air. No one is fighting, per se. No one is looking to be vindicated by mom. Just tense. Just nit picky, irritated eye-rolling and sighing.

What’s a mom to do?

I’ll tell you what I did today. I thought about how much time the kids spend together. All seven of them. Crammed into the van. Sharing bedrooms. Three meals a day. All the same friends. All the same activities. School together, play together, work together, sleep together. Yikes! That’s a lot of time up close and personal with the same gang!

And I thought, maybe they’d be happier and enjoy one another more if.....


Please read the rest of my latest article here at Heart of the Matter Online.

Hands and Feet

This has been a complicated week in our house. On top of the regular busy of our family, we've added another layer of busy in the health and wellness department. My husband has been laid out with excruciating back pain, resulting from some disc herniation. Suffice it to say, our home life has looked really different for the last week after a few months of building up to an acute climax.

I shared our struggles at our church music team practice on Saturday night. I told them the ins and outs of what was going on in our home. And they prayed for our family. For health, strength, patience, endurance; for the ability to hear the Lord speaking through this time of trial. It was very helpful. Very moving.

That same night, the members of the team gave some good advice from their experience with similar health concerns. They offered to help however they could. I assumed that would be the end of it.

I was wrong.

Sunday morning, I was commiserating with the wife of one of the team members about needing to go home and make lunch. I wish I had a magic fairy to wave a wand and make it for me, I said. We laughed. Then I went to Remark to find a fantastic loaf of bread to stretch my salad that I was making. I comtemplated buying a rotisserie chicken there too, but didn't. Tempting; also expensive, long line up, kids waiting in the car. *sigh* maybe I can figure out the bbq when I get home and cook the kabobs in the freezer.

As I am approaching my house, I notice I am being followed by a familiar van. She pulls right into my drive way behind me. It is the lady I was speaking to about lunch. "We knew how difficult things must be in your house when there is a parent down and , and we both really wanted to do something to help out in a small way, so would you let us serve you today by giving you this." And she hands me a steaming hot bag from Swiss Chalet. Buns, baked potatoes, french fries, 6 pieces of chicken, and of course, my favourite, the dipping sauce. "It might not be enough to feed your whole crew but add it to your bread and see if the Lord will multiply your loaves and chicken", she smiles.

I weep.

Unable to even a little bit compose myself, we hug and I squeeze a thank you out between tears. She smiles and says your welcome.

As we are eating this feast, there is a knock on the door. A man from our team and his wife have come with another surprise: "When I was having back problems I used this inversion table to relieve some of the pressure. I thought I'd bring it by and if your husband can use it great. If not, give me a call and I'll pick it up again."

Really? Very kind. I'm having a hard time letting this all soak in.

At the end of the day, I check my email. Another team member volunteering to mow our lawn. He comes, on his day off, on a holiday, and mows the lawn, and uses the trimmer to do the edging and whack all those weeds. "Chris should not be doing this for several weeks, so I'll come back in two weeks or so and do it again. Okay?"

And the tears again.

Sheer gratitude for the love of Christ being displayed in the people we do church life with. Maybe to them these were small sacrifices. Maybe it "was nothing". To us, it was a world of help and a picture of how the Body of Christ can function.

It is also a lesson to me in how I am notoriously bad for admitting I need help and being willing to take it without guilt.

It is a further lesson on my inadequate service to others. How often do I go above and beyond to help someone in need? Do I watch for places I can serve? Am I willing to inconvenience myself for others?

And so I challenge myself, and you, if you've read this far, to be the servant this week. Be the hands that do and the feet that go to show the compassion of Jesus to someone this week. Who will it be? Who could you help this week? Who can you serve and bless with a meal, an errand, a note of encouragement, a gift, a task? Will it be your co-worker? Your neighbour? Your spouse? A stranger on the street? Your child?

Lord, open my eyes to the needs of those around me, and show me how I can serve them. And thank you for this church family who have loved us so well this week. Bless them for their generousity.

True Love

What a song of rejoicing! What a song of hope!

I am blessed and moved by this song each time I hear it. Especially this paired down version with the Body of Christ joining in with one voice to celebrate the one, True Love that Christ poured out for us.

Phil Wickham (an artist you should really go listen to a whole lot of) singing True Love.



Come close listen to the story
About a love more faithful than the morning
The Father gave His only Son just to save us

The earth was shaking in the dark
All creation felt the Father's Broken Heart
Tears were filling Heaven's Eyes
The day that True Love died, the day that True Love died
When blood and water hit the ground
Walls we couldn't move came crashing down
We were free and made alive
The day that True Love died, The day that True Love died

Search your heart you know you can't deny it
Come on, lose your life just so you can find it
The Father gave His only Son just to save us

The Earth was shaking in the dark
All creation felt The Fathers broken heart
Tears were filling Heaven's Eyes
The day that True Love died, the day that True Love died
When blood and water hit the ground
Walls we couldn't move came crashing down
We were free and made alive
The day that True Love died, The day that True Love died

Now, Jesus is alive

Jesus is alive
Jesus is alive
Jesus is alive
Jesus is alive
Oh, He is alive
He rose again

When blood and water hit the ground
Walls we couldn't move came crashing down
We were free and made alive
The day that True Love died, The day that True Love died

Come close listen to the story

Loving the Little Things

In our previous house, there were several flowers in my garden that I did not plant that I really loved. When we were preparing to move, I considered digging up a bunch of them. But seriously. Did not have time. One of my lovely neighbours actually dug up 3 of my mostest favourites, but there were still others.

That little green one with the little white flowers whose name I never discovered.

The False Solomon's Seal that I loved watching slowly take over a larger part of the garden.

Then there were the ferns I always saw at DeGroot's and always wanted to buy but never did, leaving a space where they were "supposed" to go.

And of course I had always wanted to have something in the garden with a really deep burgandy leaf. A shade plant that would just pop in the indirect light.

Of course, I had also wanted to try out some big ornamental grasses, but we just could never find the place to put them.

Oh, and then the bunnies. Now, clearly not a plant, the bunnies were part of our garden, and our backyard. Especially the days just before we moved. There were 4 little bunnies who had a daily game of tag that carried on all through our backyard and then would spill onto the neighbours' yards.

As we were pulling out of the driveway for the last time, we all sighed a bit at the beginning of a garden we had going, the plants we were leaving behind, and the bunnies that we would surely never have in the middle of the city.

Well, imagine my surprise. As I finally walked around the exterior of my new house tonight, wasn't I shocked to find the little green plant with white flowers, the painted fern I always wanted, some burgandy leafy thing that just "pops", true Solomon Seal, a row of ornamental grasses reaching half way up our back fence, and a momma rabbit, with 5 bunnies, nesting in our little garden.

I know, I know, when I go to plant lettuce I'll rue those little bunnies, but for now, right this moment, they are all reminders to me that the Lord knows how to encourage me with even the littlest of things. Things easily overlooked by others because it just isn't what they need at that moment. But tonight, He knew that I really needed it. And I'm loving it.