What impact does Jesus' death on the the cross and resurrection have on your life? I mean really have on your life?
If you're a Christian, then Jesus' death and resurrection obviously has a pretty big impact on your life and you consider it to be extremely significant. But how big exactly is that impact?
A couple weeks ago someone was talking about how Jesus' sacrifice is the ultimate sacrifice; there has never been a more significant sacrifice in history and there will never be a more significant sacrifice in the future; Jesus' sacrifice and resurrection are perfect and complete in every detail - God didn't miss anything out and He didn't mess it up; the love that God has for us that is demonstrated by what Jesus did on the cross is too great for us to ever begin to imagine - we will never be able to comprehend exactly what an amazing and awesome love God has for each and every one of us!
Being a Christian, Jesus' death and resurrection have made an eternal difference to my life and what I do; it's something that I've heard talked about many times before; but as I sat there I was struck by what was being said and my thoughts were almost ground to a halt as the enormity of what Jesus did for us hit me in a new way.
Something so awesome should change our lives forever in such a totally uncomprehending way! Something so beautiful should affect everything we think, say and do! Something so completely and ultimately perfect should touch and change everything about us and our lives so much that everyone around us is touched and changed by it too! A love so big and sacrificial and unselfish should make us see ourselves and the people around us as the unique and precious people that we are!
These thoughts have left me looking at my own relationship with God and my own life and asking myself, "So how is this awesome sacrifice that Jesus made for us changing my life forever and how is that change in me changing the lives of the people around me?"
How is this awesome sacrifice that Jesus made for us changing YOUR life and how is that change in you changing the lives of the people around YOU?
Monday, April 28, 2008
Monday, October 8, 2007
Take A Minute Of Your Time
Maybe I thought that writing a post about welcoming myself back would somehow provide not only the inspiration, but the time needed to get back to blog-writing. The answer to that theory is self-evident.
Time is an amazing and unique quality. It's a very precious commodity. It can be so frustrating. It is both very rare and amazingly abundant.
One day I found this quote and it's been stuck up in my room ever since: "Time is that quality of nature that stops things from happening all at once. Lately it doesn't seem to have been working." The author of that quote wisely chose to remain unknown.
I just had time to make a sandwich and grab an apple before running out of the door and spending the next little while trying not to get mayo over the steering-wheel as i tried to eat and drive at the same time.
I just had time to look at the rising sun painting the fall trees a beautiful golden color through the early-morning mist.
This post is a little disjointed and rambling, but I wanted to say something and maybe you'll think about what I've been thinking about.
Time can sometimes seem so short and there can sometimes be so many things to be done.
Don't just rush from place to place and chore to chore, ticking the accomplished tasks off your list.
Stop for a minute and think about the things that are the most important to you. Take a minute to thank God for sending Jesus. Take a minute to say thank you when somebody says something nice. take a minute to hug your sister. Take a minute to look at the sunshine. Take a minute to rustle the fall leaves under your feet. Take a minute to feel the wind and the crisp air on your face.
Take a minute to say thank you that you're alive, that you have time, that you have things to do.
Time is an amazing and unique quality. It's a very precious commodity. It can be so frustrating. It is both very rare and amazingly abundant.
One day I found this quote and it's been stuck up in my room ever since: "Time is that quality of nature that stops things from happening all at once. Lately it doesn't seem to have been working." The author of that quote wisely chose to remain unknown.
I just had time to make a sandwich and grab an apple before running out of the door and spending the next little while trying not to get mayo over the steering-wheel as i tried to eat and drive at the same time.
I just had time to look at the rising sun painting the fall trees a beautiful golden color through the early-morning mist.
This post is a little disjointed and rambling, but I wanted to say something and maybe you'll think about what I've been thinking about.
Time can sometimes seem so short and there can sometimes be so many things to be done.
Don't just rush from place to place and chore to chore, ticking the accomplished tasks off your list.
Stop for a minute and think about the things that are the most important to you. Take a minute to thank God for sending Jesus. Take a minute to say thank you when somebody says something nice. take a minute to hug your sister. Take a minute to look at the sunshine. Take a minute to rustle the fall leaves under your feet. Take a minute to feel the wind and the crisp air on your face.
Take a minute to say thank you that you're alive, that you have time, that you have things to do.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Coffee And Halos
One Sunday I had to be at church early for a meeting over breakfast. As I walked toward the door I realized there were a couple of hobos out on the steps folding up their blankets. I smiled at them as I walked past and got inside the building.
A couple minutes later they came and joined us and we gave them coffee and bacon for breakfast. We talked to them, asked them what their names were, found out some of their life histories and chatted for a while.
We didn't get much of a meeting done and we had to talk about some stuff with them sitting there, but it was the right thing to do.
It reminded me of that verse in the Bible that says that by welcoming people and helping them you might be entertaining angels unawares. I don't think you should only help people for that reason, but who knows that maybe one day we might give coffee and bacon to an angel?
After all, it's not every day you have hobos to breakfast in a church!
A couple minutes later they came and joined us and we gave them coffee and bacon for breakfast. We talked to them, asked them what their names were, found out some of their life histories and chatted for a while.
We didn't get much of a meeting done and we had to talk about some stuff with them sitting there, but it was the right thing to do.
It reminded me of that verse in the Bible that says that by welcoming people and helping them you might be entertaining angels unawares. I don't think you should only help people for that reason, but who knows that maybe one day we might give coffee and bacon to an angel?
After all, it's not every day you have hobos to breakfast in a church!
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Welcome Back!
Can you welcome yourself back to your own blog? I'm not 100% sure of the formalities involved, so I'll just go ahead and welcome myself back to my blog!
Of course, it may well be that it has been such a very long time since I last posted here that all my readers have disappeared. I would not blame you. It is very hard to read a blog where nothing is written. I sympathize with your predicament.
Even the most dedicated and self-disciplined of the human race (and I can by no means hope to aspire to this title) are apt to fall behind at times. When I first started on my Blog Journey, I was resolved to write as often as at least every other day and never to become slack and fail to post for weeks on end - a practice I always find singularly irritating among my fellow blog-writers.
I seem to remember writing a couple of months ago about pride coming before a fall, but here I am again. My blog-pride has well and truly fallen.
What excuse can I offer? Certainly none which would be satisfactory. Can I claim a new job which has me trying (and failing) to reach new levels in time-management? Can I claim trips to far-flung corners of the country to attend conferences? Can I claim getting delayed for hours on my journey home? Can I claim multiple birthdays descending upon me all at the same time? Can I claim special secret birthday projects which should have been finished at least two or three weeks ago?
I knew you were not going to be impressed, but along with my sincere apologies I would like to claim a little bit of your sympathy when you are tempted to leave scorching comments of reproach - I have a cold that is making my head feel twice its normal nice, my throat like I just swallowed sandpaper and my poor little nose like it's been rubbed with pumice-stone every morning for the last 4 weeks. I also have some nasty little lump in my throat that is making me feel decidedly nasty every time I swallow.
I would like to end by wishing all my readers a very happy and cold-free week!
Of course, it may well be that it has been such a very long time since I last posted here that all my readers have disappeared. I would not blame you. It is very hard to read a blog where nothing is written. I sympathize with your predicament.
Even the most dedicated and self-disciplined of the human race (and I can by no means hope to aspire to this title) are apt to fall behind at times. When I first started on my Blog Journey, I was resolved to write as often as at least every other day and never to become slack and fail to post for weeks on end - a practice I always find singularly irritating among my fellow blog-writers.
I seem to remember writing a couple of months ago about pride coming before a fall, but here I am again. My blog-pride has well and truly fallen.
What excuse can I offer? Certainly none which would be satisfactory. Can I claim a new job which has me trying (and failing) to reach new levels in time-management? Can I claim trips to far-flung corners of the country to attend conferences? Can I claim getting delayed for hours on my journey home? Can I claim multiple birthdays descending upon me all at the same time? Can I claim special secret birthday projects which should have been finished at least two or three weeks ago?
I knew you were not going to be impressed, but along with my sincere apologies I would like to claim a little bit of your sympathy when you are tempted to leave scorching comments of reproach - I have a cold that is making my head feel twice its normal nice, my throat like I just swallowed sandpaper and my poor little nose like it's been rubbed with pumice-stone every morning for the last 4 weeks. I also have some nasty little lump in my throat that is making me feel decidedly nasty every time I swallow.
I would like to end by wishing all my readers a very happy and cold-free week!
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
A Crisis Man
"Father, make me a crisis man. Bring those I contact to decision. Let me not be a milepost on a single road; make me a fork, that men must turn one way or another on facing Christ in me."
Jim Elliot
Jim Elliot
Monday, September 3, 2007
The Cooking Of The Chocolate Cake
I was one of those cooks who liked to share the whole cooking with as many people (and things) as possible.
When I tapped an egg on the side of the bowl I liked to share the experience with the floor as well.
When I cooked Sticky Fruit Balls, I liked to have as many ingredients as possible join in the fun. It didn't really matter if all the ingredients that were supposed to be in the Fruit Balls weren't in there and all the ingredients that weren't supposed to be in the Fruit Balls were in there. I didn't really care that I improvised a bit too much and nobody could eat them, the point is, everything joined in and had fun.
When I cooked the soup, I thought it was a shame to leave out all of the water in the tap that could have been in the soup, so mixing the measurements round the wrong way on the jug just helped me carry out my noble intentions. Cooking the soup for a couple of hours in the microwave and still having crunchy onions was just a small sacrifice we had to pay.
Add to this list leaving the salt out of the bread, using the wrong butter in the frosting, forgetting to turn the oven on, leaving the eggs out of the cake, ignoring the kitchen timer when it went off, using the wrong flour in the cake and you're getting about the right idea. My cooking was a little - experimental and erratic.
Over the years, my culinary skills have improved. Granted I still put too much milk in the mashed potatoes so they taste lumpy, granted I still burn the fries, granted last time I did Cesar Salad it was the most disgusting thing I had eaten that month and granted my Mom and sister sometimes still look at what I have cooked and then look at each other with a "we've got to eat that?!" look, but never mind. My pies were kindly said to be unexceptional and I have most graciously been granted the title of Muffin Queen.
Armed with this encouragement, I baked a chocolate cake. This was no ordinary chocolate cake. This was a Death-By-Chocolate-Chocolate-Cake. This was serious business.
I shall make no apologies for saying that it was a brilliant success. It was totally yummy and fully justified its name. It looked fantastic and tasted like your dream chocolate cake (or what your dream chocolate cake would taste like if you dreamed about chocolate cake).
Sadly, my preparation methods did not reach the same dream-like quality. I have never dreamed about making a chocolate cake, but I am sure that if I ever did, it would bear no resemblance to what happened The Day I Cooked The Chocolate Cake.
I got in a fuss over the eggs. I ran out of flour one cup into the measuring. I couldn't find the sugar. I drained one bottle of oil and had to start on another. I didn't start with enough clean cup-measurements. I didn't use a big enough bowl.
That was the real mistake - the bowl was just a few inches too small. The mixture fit in alright, but when you added the electric beaters ...
Thankfully I had had the foresight to wear an apron. In general I dislike wearing aprons, but that day it saved my top from almost sure destruction.
All was going quite well. I was happily beating away and then ... I lifted the beaters one little one-eighth of an inch too high. Really it was quite artistic, if you look at it in the right way. My apron had a lovely brown ring around the middle. The wall had been redecorated for free. If I had been in another part of the kitchen I'm sure the brown spots on the floor would have covered up the holes in the lino beautifully. Why do they always make beaters white the whole time? Spotted ones look far more like ... well ... like they've just been covered in spots of chocolate cake batter.
Oh well, cake eaten and lesson learned. Today, I was making another chocolate cake for more guests. Bigger bowl - much bigger bowl. I carefully measured everything out beforehand and the only thing I ran out of this time was hot water. I was most circumspect with the beaters, keeping them well down in the bowl and carefully tilting the bowl so that if anything splashed, it should be on me, not on the shelves at the back of the counter.
Mix the oil and sugar ... add the eggs ... fold in the flour, cinnamon and coca-powder ... hmm, thats looking a bit thick and stodgy for the beaters, better start adding some of the coffee now ... In went the coffee, sitting in a nice brown lake on top of the sticky mixture. In went the beaters, I moved the dial ... and drops of brown coffee flew in all directions. Over the bowls, the shelves, the counter, the wall and me. This time it decided the floor was beneath its notice but if come spring-cleaning time we find brown spots on the ceiling, I shall not be one bit surprised.
This time the cake is not to be eaten straight away, but will stay in the freezer until next week. I hope that it tastes good.
If it doesn't, maybe I'll take up painting and interior decorating as an alternative to cooking.
When I tapped an egg on the side of the bowl I liked to share the experience with the floor as well.
When I cooked Sticky Fruit Balls, I liked to have as many ingredients as possible join in the fun. It didn't really matter if all the ingredients that were supposed to be in the Fruit Balls weren't in there and all the ingredients that weren't supposed to be in the Fruit Balls were in there. I didn't really care that I improvised a bit too much and nobody could eat them, the point is, everything joined in and had fun.
When I cooked the soup, I thought it was a shame to leave out all of the water in the tap that could have been in the soup, so mixing the measurements round the wrong way on the jug just helped me carry out my noble intentions. Cooking the soup for a couple of hours in the microwave and still having crunchy onions was just a small sacrifice we had to pay.
Add to this list leaving the salt out of the bread, using the wrong butter in the frosting, forgetting to turn the oven on, leaving the eggs out of the cake, ignoring the kitchen timer when it went off, using the wrong flour in the cake and you're getting about the right idea. My cooking was a little - experimental and erratic.
Over the years, my culinary skills have improved. Granted I still put too much milk in the mashed potatoes so they taste lumpy, granted I still burn the fries, granted last time I did Cesar Salad it was the most disgusting thing I had eaten that month and granted my Mom and sister sometimes still look at what I have cooked and then look at each other with a "we've got to eat that?!" look, but never mind. My pies were kindly said to be unexceptional and I have most graciously been granted the title of Muffin Queen.
Armed with this encouragement, I baked a chocolate cake. This was no ordinary chocolate cake. This was a Death-By-Chocolate-Chocolate-Cake. This was serious business.
I shall make no apologies for saying that it was a brilliant success. It was totally yummy and fully justified its name. It looked fantastic and tasted like your dream chocolate cake (or what your dream chocolate cake would taste like if you dreamed about chocolate cake).
Sadly, my preparation methods did not reach the same dream-like quality. I have never dreamed about making a chocolate cake, but I am sure that if I ever did, it would bear no resemblance to what happened The Day I Cooked The Chocolate Cake.
I got in a fuss over the eggs. I ran out of flour one cup into the measuring. I couldn't find the sugar. I drained one bottle of oil and had to start on another. I didn't start with enough clean cup-measurements. I didn't use a big enough bowl.
That was the real mistake - the bowl was just a few inches too small. The mixture fit in alright, but when you added the electric beaters ...
Thankfully I had had the foresight to wear an apron. In general I dislike wearing aprons, but that day it saved my top from almost sure destruction.
All was going quite well. I was happily beating away and then ... I lifted the beaters one little one-eighth of an inch too high. Really it was quite artistic, if you look at it in the right way. My apron had a lovely brown ring around the middle. The wall had been redecorated for free. If I had been in another part of the kitchen I'm sure the brown spots on the floor would have covered up the holes in the lino beautifully. Why do they always make beaters white the whole time? Spotted ones look far more like ... well ... like they've just been covered in spots of chocolate cake batter.
Oh well, cake eaten and lesson learned. Today, I was making another chocolate cake for more guests. Bigger bowl - much bigger bowl. I carefully measured everything out beforehand and the only thing I ran out of this time was hot water. I was most circumspect with the beaters, keeping them well down in the bowl and carefully tilting the bowl so that if anything splashed, it should be on me, not on the shelves at the back of the counter.
Mix the oil and sugar ... add the eggs ... fold in the flour, cinnamon and coca-powder ... hmm, thats looking a bit thick and stodgy for the beaters, better start adding some of the coffee now ... In went the coffee, sitting in a nice brown lake on top of the sticky mixture. In went the beaters, I moved the dial ... and drops of brown coffee flew in all directions. Over the bowls, the shelves, the counter, the wall and me. This time it decided the floor was beneath its notice but if come spring-cleaning time we find brown spots on the ceiling, I shall not be one bit surprised.
This time the cake is not to be eaten straight away, but will stay in the freezer until next week. I hope that it tastes good.
If it doesn't, maybe I'll take up painting and interior decorating as an alternative to cooking.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Perform A Random Act Of Kindness Today
"I read about a phenomenon in Marin County, California. Someone put up a sign on the Interstate: "Perform a random act of kindness today." Sure enough, reports came in, slowly at first, of people paying the toll for cars behind them ... people stopping to help stranded vehicles ... One man was caught in traffic. His cellular phone not working, he typed a sign on his laptop computer and printed it on his car fax: LATE FOR ANNIVERSARY DINNER CALL MY WIFE AND TELL HER I LOVE HER (phone number). He came home an hour later to find that seventy people had called, one of them sent a bouquet of flowers, another sent a voucher for dinner for two at the local poshest resort. Over a four-month period, crime dropped 7 percent."
D.P.E. - R.H.Readings
What would happen if we all started performing random acts of kindness? Right now! How soon and how much would it spread? What would happen if those random acts of kindness were performed in Jesus' Name?
D.P.E. - R.H.Readings
What would happen if we all started performing random acts of kindness? Right now! How soon and how much would it spread? What would happen if those random acts of kindness were performed in Jesus' Name?
Friday, August 31, 2007
Another Corrie Ten Boom Quote
I was sent this quote by a friend and thought that it was definitely worth sharing with you all.
When Jesus takes your hand, He keeps you tight. When Jesus keeps you tight, He leads you through your whole life. When Jesus leads you through your life, He brings you safely home.
Corrie Ten Boom
When Jesus takes your hand, He keeps you tight. When Jesus keeps you tight, He leads you through your whole life. When Jesus leads you through your life, He brings you safely home.
Corrie Ten Boom
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
When Life Is Confusing
"When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don't throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer."
Corrie Ten Boom
Corrie Ten Boom
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Drop A Pebble In The Water
Drop a pebble in the water; just a splash, and it is gone;
But there's half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on,
Spreading, spreading from the center, flowing on out to the sea.
And there is no way of telling where the end is going to be.
Drop a pebble in the water; in a minute you forget,
But there's little waves a-flowing, and there's ripples circling yet,
And those little waves a-flowing to a great big wave have grown;
You've disturbed a mighty river just by dropping in a stone.
Drop an unkind word, or careless: in a minute it is gone;
But there's half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on.
They keep spreading, spreading, spreading from the center as they go,
And there is no way to stop them, once you've started them to flow.
Drop an unkind word, or careless: in a minute you forget;
But there's little waves a-flowing, and there's ripples circling yet,
And perhaps in some sad heart a mighty wave of tears you've stirred,
And disturbed a life was happy ere you dropped that unkind word.
Drop a word of cheer and kindness: just a flash and it is gone;
But there's half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on,
Bearing hope and joy and comfort on each splashing, dashing wave
Til you wouldn't believe the volume of the one kind word you gave.
But there's half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on,
Spreading, spreading from the center, flowing on out to the sea.
And there is no way of telling where the end is going to be.
Drop a pebble in the water; in a minute you forget,
But there's little waves a-flowing, and there's ripples circling yet,
And those little waves a-flowing to a great big wave have grown;
You've disturbed a mighty river just by dropping in a stone.
Drop an unkind word, or careless: in a minute it is gone;
But there's half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on.
They keep spreading, spreading, spreading from the center as they go,
And there is no way to stop them, once you've started them to flow.
Drop an unkind word, or careless: in a minute you forget;
But there's little waves a-flowing, and there's ripples circling yet,
And perhaps in some sad heart a mighty wave of tears you've stirred,
And disturbed a life was happy ere you dropped that unkind word.
Drop a word of cheer and kindness: just a flash and it is gone;
But there's half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on,
Bearing hope and joy and comfort on each splashing, dashing wave
Til you wouldn't believe the volume of the one kind word you gave.
Drop a word of cheer and kindness: in a minute you forget;
But there's gladness still a-swelling, and there's joy a-circling yet,
And you've rolled a wave of comfort whose sweet music can be heard
Over miles and miles of water just by dropping one kind word.
James W. Foley
But there's gladness still a-swelling, and there's joy a-circling yet,
And you've rolled a wave of comfort whose sweet music can be heard
Over miles and miles of water just by dropping one kind word.
James W. Foley
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
A Perfect Picnic
It was a perfect summer day. There was a nice breeze. We had a day's vacation. We went for a picnic.
Picnics are such fun. Just lying in the grass; staring up at the blue sky through the branches of the tree; feeling the breeze stirring your hair; the warmth of the sun on your arms. Just lying around and being lazy and doing nothing except eat.
That was what struck me - we were just sitting there eating. The total aim and purpose of this trip was to eat. We went to all that effort to get together food, pack up the car, head out on the road, find some nice grass and share our space with the bugs and what were we doing? Eating. I decided to voice my thoughts.
"Does it strike anyone that we're just sitting here eating?"
My sister viewed me consideringly, head on one side.
"Well, you are just sitting there stuffing your face."
Sisters are so wonderfully blunt sometimes. She hastened to assure me that she didn't mean 'you' as in 'you', just 'you' as in 'one'. Problem is, I was just sitting there stuffing my face. I wouldn't have chosen to phrase it that way if I had been left to pick the terminology myself, but beat around the bush however much you like, when it comes down to the basic facts, that was what I was doing.
That picnic was so much fun. We were really silly and laughed until we nearly choked; we made a lot of noise and made people stare at us; we lay around in the grass and just talked (and ate). We enjoyed the sun and the grass, the laughter and time with each other.
Life isn't perfect, but it has its perfect moments.
That picnic was definitely one of those perfect moments.
Picnics are such fun. Just lying in the grass; staring up at the blue sky through the branches of the tree; feeling the breeze stirring your hair; the warmth of the sun on your arms. Just lying around and being lazy and doing nothing except eat.
That was what struck me - we were just sitting there eating. The total aim and purpose of this trip was to eat. We went to all that effort to get together food, pack up the car, head out on the road, find some nice grass and share our space with the bugs and what were we doing? Eating. I decided to voice my thoughts.
"Does it strike anyone that we're just sitting here eating?"
My sister viewed me consideringly, head on one side.
"Well, you are just sitting there stuffing your face."
Sisters are so wonderfully blunt sometimes. She hastened to assure me that she didn't mean 'you' as in 'you', just 'you' as in 'one'. Problem is, I was just sitting there stuffing my face. I wouldn't have chosen to phrase it that way if I had been left to pick the terminology myself, but beat around the bush however much you like, when it comes down to the basic facts, that was what I was doing.
That picnic was so much fun. We were really silly and laughed until we nearly choked; we made a lot of noise and made people stare at us; we lay around in the grass and just talked (and ate). We enjoyed the sun and the grass, the laughter and time with each other.
Life isn't perfect, but it has its perfect moments.
That picnic was definitely one of those perfect moments.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Home Again
I've been away for a few days, visiting a friend and having a wonderful time. Spending time with friends is special and I was made to feel very welcome, but there is nothing quite like coming home again.
As I got out of the car my sister was waiting for me on the doorstep and as soon as I reached the door she gave me a massive hug and said how glad she was that I was home again. I walked into the kitchen and got another big hug.
After I had chatted in the kitchen for a bit I went upstairs to my room and found a freshly-made bed, a vacuumed floor and a vase of flowers from the garden sitting on my dresser.
Sitting round the table at supper I sat back and listening to everyone talking at once and trying to tell all the news from the past couple of days in 3 minutes maximum.
A little later my sisters and I all squashed on the couch together to watch a movie. We talked to the characters on the screen when they did something particularly stupid and we kept a running commentary going throughout most of the movie.
The noise getting ready for bed was typical - people running up and down stairs; the bathroom door banging open and shut; laughing over teeth-brushing; the chatter that continues through mouthfuls of toothpaste, the shut bathroom door, pyjama tops as they are put over heads and is then raised a couple of levels as the last few comments are shouted from one bedroom to the next and then the creaking of beds as everyone settles down.
I had such an amazing time with my friend, but it was good to be home again.
As I got out of the car my sister was waiting for me on the doorstep and as soon as I reached the door she gave me a massive hug and said how glad she was that I was home again. I walked into the kitchen and got another big hug.
After I had chatted in the kitchen for a bit I went upstairs to my room and found a freshly-made bed, a vacuumed floor and a vase of flowers from the garden sitting on my dresser.
Sitting round the table at supper I sat back and listening to everyone talking at once and trying to tell all the news from the past couple of days in 3 minutes maximum.
A little later my sisters and I all squashed on the couch together to watch a movie. We talked to the characters on the screen when they did something particularly stupid and we kept a running commentary going throughout most of the movie.
The noise getting ready for bed was typical - people running up and down stairs; the bathroom door banging open and shut; laughing over teeth-brushing; the chatter that continues through mouthfuls of toothpaste, the shut bathroom door, pyjama tops as they are put over heads and is then raised a couple of levels as the last few comments are shouted from one bedroom to the next and then the creaking of beds as everyone settles down.
I had such an amazing time with my friend, but it was good to be home again.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
God Is In Control
It all started a few months back. Some old friends were going through a touch time with illness in the family. Their daughter had cancer in her leg and there was chemotherapy and surgery, then more chemotherapy. Two close friends were both struggling and just needed a listening ear and support.
Our closet family friends announced a few weeks ago that they were thinking of moving - countries, not just across town. It felt like an important and stable anchor in life was being ripped up. Then I heard that a lady who was almost like a surrogate aunt-come-grandmother to me had cancer. An operation should fix the problem. A lot of effort has been put into gifts, cards and notes to show support.
This week, life started to crumble and this morning it caved-in. Our friends are definitely moving - maybe in just a few weeks. Then this morning we had an e-mail. Our old friends with an ill daughter had not got good news. Worst of all, although things were still looking good with the lady with cancer, her husband had just been diagnosed with an aggressive form of a pretty nasty cancer.
I felt like I was sinking. What exactly was going on here? Why was all of this happening? And why to all these people? I wondered around in a daze, showering and getting dressed auotmaticaly as I tried to grasp why all of this was happening - and why all at once. I couldn't cope with all of this right then and how on earth was I meant to be able to stretch myself out and help all of these different people? Why did stuff like this have to happen to such nice people? Where they going to die? Why wasn't God stopping this? Why?
I didn't have the answers this morning and I don't have them now. I still feel like I'm wondering around surrounded by a cloud. All the thinking and the emotions have made me exhausted - what must it be like for our friends who are going through all of this right now?
God is in control. He knows what He's doing and why all of this is happening. It doesn't feel like it. It doesn't look like it. How am I supposed to feel that everything - including all of this - is in God's control?
I don't think I am. I think that God understands. He knows how difficult it is to trust Him sometimes. He knows that sometimes it is impossible to feel like God is in control.
What I have to do is believe that God is in control. We are told in the Bible that everything is in God's control, so that is the way it is. No argument. That fact is what we have to hold on to. Take the truth and hold onto it. Believe that God's word is true and even though you don't feel that God is in control, know that God is in control. Sometimes we can only get as far as the cold, light-of-day head-knowledge. God is merciful and compassionate and I believe He takes that cold, light-of-day head-knowledge and He takes care of the rest.
Right now, whether or not I feel it, the truth is there to be taken firm hold of - God is in control.
Our closet family friends announced a few weeks ago that they were thinking of moving - countries, not just across town. It felt like an important and stable anchor in life was being ripped up. Then I heard that a lady who was almost like a surrogate aunt-come-grandmother to me had cancer. An operation should fix the problem. A lot of effort has been put into gifts, cards and notes to show support.
This week, life started to crumble and this morning it caved-in. Our friends are definitely moving - maybe in just a few weeks. Then this morning we had an e-mail. Our old friends with an ill daughter had not got good news. Worst of all, although things were still looking good with the lady with cancer, her husband had just been diagnosed with an aggressive form of a pretty nasty cancer.
I felt like I was sinking. What exactly was going on here? Why was all of this happening? And why to all these people? I wondered around in a daze, showering and getting dressed auotmaticaly as I tried to grasp why all of this was happening - and why all at once. I couldn't cope with all of this right then and how on earth was I meant to be able to stretch myself out and help all of these different people? Why did stuff like this have to happen to such nice people? Where they going to die? Why wasn't God stopping this? Why?
I didn't have the answers this morning and I don't have them now. I still feel like I'm wondering around surrounded by a cloud. All the thinking and the emotions have made me exhausted - what must it be like for our friends who are going through all of this right now?
God is in control. He knows what He's doing and why all of this is happening. It doesn't feel like it. It doesn't look like it. How am I supposed to feel that everything - including all of this - is in God's control?
I don't think I am. I think that God understands. He knows how difficult it is to trust Him sometimes. He knows that sometimes it is impossible to feel like God is in control.
What I have to do is believe that God is in control. We are told in the Bible that everything is in God's control, so that is the way it is. No argument. That fact is what we have to hold on to. Take the truth and hold onto it. Believe that God's word is true and even though you don't feel that God is in control, know that God is in control. Sometimes we can only get as far as the cold, light-of-day head-knowledge. God is merciful and compassionate and I believe He takes that cold, light-of-day head-knowledge and He takes care of the rest.
Right now, whether or not I feel it, the truth is there to be taken firm hold of - God is in control.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Pink Satin And Perfect Little Bags
I've got all excited about the birthday present I'm making for my sister! My sister has a Kirsten American Girl Doll and I decided to make her a really pretty ball dress for the doll.
Whenever I get to a fabric store I am always overwhelmed by all the fabric - so many different patterns and colors to choose from and each piece of fabric just begs you to take it off of the shelf and give your inspiration free-reign. Another thing I like about fabric stores is the strange sort of quiet, even when people are talking and the tantalising smell of new fabric. I love going up to the bolts of fabric, rubbing it between my fingers and feeling that crisp, slightly rough feel that you only get from pre-washed fabric.
I wondered around, looking at all the different fabric, checking out the sales, matching up possible colors and trying to imagine what the finished dress would look like. I tried to pick out something that my sister would love to wear to a party herself, or the kind of dress she says she would wear to a ball.
Eventually I chose out some shinny pink satin - just the right color. Next I needed something for the over-skirt - definitely filmy and see-through. A white organza with little white flowers embroidered on it and a scalloped edge was most certainly the perfect match. Next I needed some lace, ribbon for the trimming and some little rosette flowers to hold up the gathers on the over-skirt. A delicate purpley-blue coordinated wonderfully with the pink of the dress and at last I found both rosettes and ribbon in almost the same color. In the end I found some lace which would go quite nicely and the last thing I needed was some ribbon to tie in the doll's hair. I know that the pink, gauzy, shimmery ribbon I found will fill my sister's heart with delight.
The perfect touch came when I found these little bags in the wedding department. They are made out of the same kind of gauzy fabric as the over-skirt and have little ribbons to draw the bag closed at the top. They came in three colors: blue, white and a pink that perfectly matches the pink of the satin. I could hardly believe my eyes! They are the perfect size to look like the little bags they have in the Jane Austen movies and I can't wait to see my sister's face when she sees the two little bags - one white and one pink.
Now I need to set to work to cut out the fabric and sew the dress. I hope that the finished dress will be all that I'm hoping it will be. I think the hard work will all be worth it if I see the stars of wonder and delight that I'm hoping to see in my sister's eyes!
Whenever I get to a fabric store I am always overwhelmed by all the fabric - so many different patterns and colors to choose from and each piece of fabric just begs you to take it off of the shelf and give your inspiration free-reign. Another thing I like about fabric stores is the strange sort of quiet, even when people are talking and the tantalising smell of new fabric. I love going up to the bolts of fabric, rubbing it between my fingers and feeling that crisp, slightly rough feel that you only get from pre-washed fabric.
I wondered around, looking at all the different fabric, checking out the sales, matching up possible colors and trying to imagine what the finished dress would look like. I tried to pick out something that my sister would love to wear to a party herself, or the kind of dress she says she would wear to a ball.
Eventually I chose out some shinny pink satin - just the right color. Next I needed something for the over-skirt - definitely filmy and see-through. A white organza with little white flowers embroidered on it and a scalloped edge was most certainly the perfect match. Next I needed some lace, ribbon for the trimming and some little rosette flowers to hold up the gathers on the over-skirt. A delicate purpley-blue coordinated wonderfully with the pink of the dress and at last I found both rosettes and ribbon in almost the same color. In the end I found some lace which would go quite nicely and the last thing I needed was some ribbon to tie in the doll's hair. I know that the pink, gauzy, shimmery ribbon I found will fill my sister's heart with delight.
The perfect touch came when I found these little bags in the wedding department. They are made out of the same kind of gauzy fabric as the over-skirt and have little ribbons to draw the bag closed at the top. They came in three colors: blue, white and a pink that perfectly matches the pink of the satin. I could hardly believe my eyes! They are the perfect size to look like the little bags they have in the Jane Austen movies and I can't wait to see my sister's face when she sees the two little bags - one white and one pink.
Now I need to set to work to cut out the fabric and sew the dress. I hope that the finished dress will be all that I'm hoping it will be. I think the hard work will all be worth it if I see the stars of wonder and delight that I'm hoping to see in my sister's eyes!
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
His Strength
This week I am helping out as a counselor at the day-camp my church runs for a week every summer. For the past couple of weeks there have been meetings to attend, lessons to prepare and a lot of cutting and painting to do as we transformed our space into a treasure-island. I also had to search through my closet looking for clothes that could make me look like a pirate.
On Monday morning we launched into a mad time of songs, games, lessons, crafts, drinks, more games, more songs and the best bit of all - when one of the counsellors gets 'gunged'! It is an amazing opportunity to teach lots of children about Jesus and all that He has done for us. Many of the children have never been to church and this is the first time they are hearing about God.
The question always seems to be, who's having the most fun - the children or us counsellors? The whole week is the greatest fun and I really think that the counsellors have just as much fun as the children.
The problem is, it is totally exhausting. Everyone puts a lot of time and energy in to each of the children and moving them around and doing the lessons and joining in with the games. Also, there is the not-so-little question of keeping all the children going in the same direction, picking up lagers for every activity and making sure that they don't get left out, keeping our area clean and tidy, getting the children involved in the lesson and answering the questions and a new one for me - stopping the fights that break out. This last one has been especially tiring. For some reason I seem to have ended up with an unusually high percentage of difficult and disruptive children. Trying to keep the balance between discipline, order and control, and fun, encouraging and interested is proving to be a lot harder then I would ever have imagined.
Today I became totally stressed out and all I wanted to do was come home and cry. I was totally exhausted and I felt as if I would never be able to ring another drop of energy from my weary body. Worse still, everyone else could see it too. I was wondering if I would ever be able to be nice to another child again.
I was totally convinced that I would not be able to get through another day. At last I managed to work out a strategy for dealing with the slightly more challenging children. Maybe I could make myself be nice to everyone and with a bit of hard work I would be able to get through all that needed to be done with a smile on my face.
Hang on, what about God? Where does He come into it? What is He doing all this time? What exactly is the real reason we are doing this camp?
I have become so stressed and tired that I had totally forgotten to ask God to be there with us through our time, to show Himself to the children through our lessons and to be with me as I'm trying to cope with the demands of the day. Maybe if I asked God to give me the strength I need, I might find myself relying on Him to get me through, rather than worrying about how I am going to manage.
What a revolutionary idea. Duh.
Tomorrow I am going am going to be trying my hardest to rely on God's strength, not my own; to ask Him, rather then worrying; to rely on His faithfulness rather then trying to do something that is beyond my capabilities. Putting my reliance and trust where it belongs will put the right perspective on all that is going on.
I am hoping - and praying! - that tomorrow will be a less stressful and tiring day for me and a more enjoyable and constructive day for the children. Tomorrow, with the help of a new day, a refreshed attitude and an all-powerful and ever-faithful God, the children and I can both have fun together.
On Monday morning we launched into a mad time of songs, games, lessons, crafts, drinks, more games, more songs and the best bit of all - when one of the counsellors gets 'gunged'! It is an amazing opportunity to teach lots of children about Jesus and all that He has done for us. Many of the children have never been to church and this is the first time they are hearing about God.
The question always seems to be, who's having the most fun - the children or us counsellors? The whole week is the greatest fun and I really think that the counsellors have just as much fun as the children.
The problem is, it is totally exhausting. Everyone puts a lot of time and energy in to each of the children and moving them around and doing the lessons and joining in with the games. Also, there is the not-so-little question of keeping all the children going in the same direction, picking up lagers for every activity and making sure that they don't get left out, keeping our area clean and tidy, getting the children involved in the lesson and answering the questions and a new one for me - stopping the fights that break out. This last one has been especially tiring. For some reason I seem to have ended up with an unusually high percentage of difficult and disruptive children. Trying to keep the balance between discipline, order and control, and fun, encouraging and interested is proving to be a lot harder then I would ever have imagined.
Today I became totally stressed out and all I wanted to do was come home and cry. I was totally exhausted and I felt as if I would never be able to ring another drop of energy from my weary body. Worse still, everyone else could see it too. I was wondering if I would ever be able to be nice to another child again.
I was totally convinced that I would not be able to get through another day. At last I managed to work out a strategy for dealing with the slightly more challenging children. Maybe I could make myself be nice to everyone and with a bit of hard work I would be able to get through all that needed to be done with a smile on my face.
Hang on, what about God? Where does He come into it? What is He doing all this time? What exactly is the real reason we are doing this camp?
I have become so stressed and tired that I had totally forgotten to ask God to be there with us through our time, to show Himself to the children through our lessons and to be with me as I'm trying to cope with the demands of the day. Maybe if I asked God to give me the strength I need, I might find myself relying on Him to get me through, rather than worrying about how I am going to manage.
What a revolutionary idea. Duh.
Tomorrow I am going am going to be trying my hardest to rely on God's strength, not my own; to ask Him, rather then worrying; to rely on His faithfulness rather then trying to do something that is beyond my capabilities. Putting my reliance and trust where it belongs will put the right perspective on all that is going on.
I am hoping - and praying! - that tomorrow will be a less stressful and tiring day for me and a more enjoyable and constructive day for the children. Tomorrow, with the help of a new day, a refreshed attitude and an all-powerful and ever-faithful God, the children and I can both have fun together.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Vegetable-arian
I get teased quite a bit for being a vegetarian. For some reason people seem to think its funny. I haven't yet been able to work out exactly why, but it seems to be a guaranteed subject for mirth.
Sometimes people just don't get the whole vegetarian thing. They seem to think that you'll eat chicken and fish. You assure them that you do not eat chicken or fish - no flesh at all. So then they think that you may not eat the actual flesh, but you will eat anything that may have been cooked with, in, beside, in the juices of or made from the juices of, the meat. Sometimes all you can do is sigh to yourself, take a deep breath, and start back at the beginning.
Generally nobody can grasp exactly what you eat if you don't eat meat. Well, just as a sort of freak-experience, you eat vegetables. Either people don't like vegetables or they just forget that vegetables can be eaten on their own. Vegetables can be quite nice.
I have heard various jokes about vegetarians and have heard different ways of describing people who are vegetarians, but none, in my opinion, beats one I saw on a kids' movie.
There is this little girl called Madeline, who lives with 11 other girls in a school in Paris, France. It is run by a nun, called Miss Clavel. Madeline has to go to hospital and on the way back to the school, she rides in the back seat of the car, beside a chicken in a cage. She calls the chicken Fred. That evening, as a special celebration for Madeline's return home, they have Chicken Helene. Madeline looks at the meat on her plate and connects it with the chicken in the car. She flatly refuses to eat Fred - people don't eat their friends. One by one all the little girls refuse to eat the chicken. Miss Clavel turns to the next girl down the table and asks her whether or not she is going to eat her supper. "No! I'm a vegetable-arian too!!"
I'm a vegetable-arian too.
Sometimes people just don't get the whole vegetarian thing. They seem to think that you'll eat chicken and fish. You assure them that you do not eat chicken or fish - no flesh at all. So then they think that you may not eat the actual flesh, but you will eat anything that may have been cooked with, in, beside, in the juices of or made from the juices of, the meat. Sometimes all you can do is sigh to yourself, take a deep breath, and start back at the beginning.
Generally nobody can grasp exactly what you eat if you don't eat meat. Well, just as a sort of freak-experience, you eat vegetables. Either people don't like vegetables or they just forget that vegetables can be eaten on their own. Vegetables can be quite nice.
I have heard various jokes about vegetarians and have heard different ways of describing people who are vegetarians, but none, in my opinion, beats one I saw on a kids' movie.
There is this little girl called Madeline, who lives with 11 other girls in a school in Paris, France. It is run by a nun, called Miss Clavel. Madeline has to go to hospital and on the way back to the school, she rides in the back seat of the car, beside a chicken in a cage. She calls the chicken Fred. That evening, as a special celebration for Madeline's return home, they have Chicken Helene. Madeline looks at the meat on her plate and connects it with the chicken in the car. She flatly refuses to eat Fred - people don't eat their friends. One by one all the little girls refuse to eat the chicken. Miss Clavel turns to the next girl down the table and asks her whether or not she is going to eat her supper. "No! I'm a vegetable-arian too!!"
I'm a vegetable-arian too.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Stop For A Minute And Think
As you might have been able to see from my lack of posts recently, I have been really busy. I am, actually, still very busy.
My to-do list goes on and on and so far I can't see the end of it. At times it is totally overwhelming and there have been moments when I have felt that I am drowning under piles of jobs and errands that I simply have to do.
Yesterday afternoon as I was working away, I was listening to a Stephen Curtis Chapman CD. It's a much older one - For The Sake Of The Call, but it has some really good songs on it. There is this one song that has a catchy tune and arresting lyrics. It's called Billy You're A Busy Man and is about this man who runs around doing lots of stuff and keeping so busy that he doesn't have time to stop and think about whether or not he knows God and what is going to happen after he dies. Although it was originally talking about someone who was running away from becoming a Christian by being busy, it made me think.
I'm busy. You're probably busy. What are we actually doing? Why are we doing it? Who are we doing it for? Are we so busy that we aren't stopping and talking to God? Are we so busy that we are forgetting to live for Him? Are we so busy that we can't remember that we started this or that project because we wanted to do it for God?
I'm not saying that being busy is a totally bad thing, but if we are so busy that we have lost sight of God and the reason we are busy, then I think we need to stop and think.
We don't necessarily need to knock anything off our to-do list, but we do need to go through our to-do list item by item and work out why we started doing it in the first place, what our end goal for this project is and who we are really doing it for now. Bring your focus for each project back to God.
Sometimes life gets so busy I run around in ever tightening circles and I get too dizzy to see anything. I need to stop and ask God to help me bring Him back into focus.
God should be the focus and center of all we do, so right now I need to take a few minutes to stop and put Him back in the center, stop and put Him back as the focus of each and every task I have to do.
My to-do list goes on and on and so far I can't see the end of it. At times it is totally overwhelming and there have been moments when I have felt that I am drowning under piles of jobs and errands that I simply have to do.
Yesterday afternoon as I was working away, I was listening to a Stephen Curtis Chapman CD. It's a much older one - For The Sake Of The Call, but it has some really good songs on it. There is this one song that has a catchy tune and arresting lyrics. It's called Billy You're A Busy Man and is about this man who runs around doing lots of stuff and keeping so busy that he doesn't have time to stop and think about whether or not he knows God and what is going to happen after he dies. Although it was originally talking about someone who was running away from becoming a Christian by being busy, it made me think.
I'm busy. You're probably busy. What are we actually doing? Why are we doing it? Who are we doing it for? Are we so busy that we aren't stopping and talking to God? Are we so busy that we are forgetting to live for Him? Are we so busy that we can't remember that we started this or that project because we wanted to do it for God?
I'm not saying that being busy is a totally bad thing, but if we are so busy that we have lost sight of God and the reason we are busy, then I think we need to stop and think.
We don't necessarily need to knock anything off our to-do list, but we do need to go through our to-do list item by item and work out why we started doing it in the first place, what our end goal for this project is and who we are really doing it for now. Bring your focus for each project back to God.
Sometimes life gets so busy I run around in ever tightening circles and I get too dizzy to see anything. I need to stop and ask God to help me bring Him back into focus.
God should be the focus and center of all we do, so right now I need to take a few minutes to stop and put Him back in the center, stop and put Him back as the focus of each and every task I have to do.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Swingdance Come Kickdance
I felt like I needed something to laugh at right now, so I thought that I would give you something to laugh about.
I was at a swing dance just kind of messing around. The lights were turned on only in the center of the room and round the edges it was dark and dim - just to give the whole thing a bit of atmosphere.
I wasn't really getting the dancing too well, so taking my sister's arm, we started to walk across the room. Actually, I wasn't exactly walking. I suppose you could call it something more like ... swishing I guess. The music had got into my legs and as I walked I swung my legs out in front of me, kicking them up in the air from the floor to waist height, one after the other.
Headed for a drink of water, I hummed a little tune to myself, shuffle-kicking my way across the floor, through the dark edge of the room to the door. Out went my right foot, kicking in front of me ... and into something hard. What was it?
A figure rose up out of the darkness immediately in front of me, clutching a hand to it's head and rubbing hard.
I don't think that the poor boy ever forgave me for kicking him in the head! It was very dark and how was I to know that he would be lying on the floor in the corner of the room while he was supposed to be dancing? Of course, I still shouldn't have kicked him in the head, but he really should have warned me that he was going to take a nap in the corner!
I've never been to another swing dance, but if I ever go to one again, I will either take a torch with me, or make sure I have some sort of warning system on the tips of my shoes, so that every time my toes come within 5 inches of something solid, it beeps. Not so that I can stop my foot from swinging to its destination, but so that other people can take their heads off the floor.
I was at a swing dance just kind of messing around. The lights were turned on only in the center of the room and round the edges it was dark and dim - just to give the whole thing a bit of atmosphere.
I wasn't really getting the dancing too well, so taking my sister's arm, we started to walk across the room. Actually, I wasn't exactly walking. I suppose you could call it something more like ... swishing I guess. The music had got into my legs and as I walked I swung my legs out in front of me, kicking them up in the air from the floor to waist height, one after the other.
Headed for a drink of water, I hummed a little tune to myself, shuffle-kicking my way across the floor, through the dark edge of the room to the door. Out went my right foot, kicking in front of me ... and into something hard. What was it?
A figure rose up out of the darkness immediately in front of me, clutching a hand to it's head and rubbing hard.
I don't think that the poor boy ever forgave me for kicking him in the head! It was very dark and how was I to know that he would be lying on the floor in the corner of the room while he was supposed to be dancing? Of course, I still shouldn't have kicked him in the head, but he really should have warned me that he was going to take a nap in the corner!
I've never been to another swing dance, but if I ever go to one again, I will either take a torch with me, or make sure I have some sort of warning system on the tips of my shoes, so that every time my toes come within 5 inches of something solid, it beeps. Not so that I can stop my foot from swinging to its destination, but so that other people can take their heads off the floor.
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