Chapters

I don’t know how I could be more than halfway through a book before realizing that it doesn’t have chapters. But I was, and it doesn’t. It happened this morning – I kept promising myself that I would ‘get some work done’ when I got to the end of the chapter. However, as much as I was enjoying it, the chapter just never seemed to end. So I flipped the pages to see how much longer I could delay ‘getting some work done’ -- and I flipped all the way to the end of the book. Now a normal person would have figured it out at this point, but I had to check, so I started at the beginning of the book and sure enough – no chapters.

Maybe this is one of the reasons I’ve been taking my time on this book. I like chapters -- beginnings and endings. Those elements help me make sense of life. But before you think I am a hopelessly linear thinker, you should also know that I have at least two books on the go at any given time – and sometimes up to 5. I really need to finish the chapterless book so that I can pass it on to a friend. I know she’ll enjoy it – chapterless and all.

Where am I going with this? It’s about chapters in our lives. I’m so glad our days are organized that way. For my liking, some of those chapters could have been eliminated altogether – or if they had to be in the ‘book’ – couldn’t God have made them really short? Of course there have been other chapters where I wanted to put down some deep roots and stay awhile.

Last night I was reading words written by Dr. James Dobson. He tells about the last time he prayed with his father. His dad said, “Lord we know it can’t always be the wonderful way it is now, but we thank you for the love we enjoy today.” Just a month after praying this prayer, his dad had a heart attack and later died. And a chapter closed.

All chapters have beginnings and endings. Even when I'm enjoying an especially wonderful chapter, I know at some point, it will come to a close. But I can enjoy the time I’m there – and know that when it ends, another begins. And so on for the rest of our lives...

One of my favourite passages of scripture is:

There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under heaven…

Ecclesiastes 3:1

Thank you, Father, for the chapters of our lives.
For order and reason and purpose.
As this year comes to an end, and another begins,

help us know Your love in all the chapters and
hold fast to You in those times that don’t seem to make sense.
You are the author and perfector of our faith,
a loving Father who wants what's best for us.
Help us to trust our days to You.

Christmas Already?

If you are reading this at your computer knowing that all your Christmas preparations are complete, I want to live at your house! I have never been so far behind – and yet I feel strangely calm about it all.

I’m not sure what happened this year… but for some reason, those things that used to matter a whole lot, just didn’t get done. (baking, Christmas cards, lights, and thoughtful meaningful gifts) I got the tree up two days ago, the cards will have to wait until next year, and when I finally got to town today, the ‘gift card frenzy’ was my only dance (except for the ‘bakery two-step’, I mean.)

I don’t get it. What went wrong? I asked our son if he remembered in the ‘olden days’ how I was always prepared. I certainly remember always having lots of cookies and other goodies prepared and in the freezer. I remember that I always sent cards (with letters and pictures!). I even remember having gifts purchased and wrapped and under the tree at least a month before Christmas.

But he doesn’t remember that. No, he claims the tree went up a couple of days before, and ‘there was a lot of yelling.’ Yikes!

Maybe those perfectly orchestrated Christmases I so fondly look back on took place before he could remember them.

I ran into our Pastor in town this week. He must have noticed my ‘stunned/crazed look’ – you know the one – worn only by those not even in the running. He gave me some good advice: “Don’t let the distractions keep you from the true meaning of the season. Don’t let any of it keep you from experiencing the wonder of Christ.”

I’ve decided to heed his advice. I don’t know how many Christmases we’ll have with family, but I know we’ll never have this one again, so I’m going to enjoy it and not stress about those things that really don’t matter.

II Corinthians 9:15 reads, “Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift.”

“Thank you, Father, for meeting us where we are, in the person of Your son, Jesus. May we know Your presence in this season.”

We’re celebrating a birthday! The most wonderful birthday ever. Distractions like baking and cards shouldn’t keep us from the pure joy of knowing that the baby in the manger was God’s own son, sent to redeem the world.

Fire up the music and tap your toes. Or better yet, when I put out the butter tarts, do a ‘bakery two-step’ with me!

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Shoo Fly!

Shoo fly don’t bother me
Shoo fly don’t bother me
Shoo fly don’t bother me
For I belong to somebody.

I can’t get it out of my head!

Our little granddaughter was here today, and as she was being tucked into her car seat, I heard that peppy tune (sung by children, of course) playing in her vehicle. And now it’s going ‘round and ‘round in my head.

I walked up the road after they left, and those words kept bouncing around with my every step. I checked on the cats’ food and shoveled the sidewalk --- moving in time to that crazy song.

I was so desperate to lose this melody, that I put on some Christmas music when I came back into the house, but whenever there was a break between songs, back it came:

Shoo fly don’t bother me
Shoo fly don’t bother me
Shoo fly don’t bother me
For I belong to somebody.

The worst of this is that I can only blame myself – I gave her the CD!

Next time, I’ll be a little more choosy about the tunes I buy for her. Maybe a little Bluegrass? Bet her parents would like that!

As I share this story with you, I remember Psalm 37:31 “The law of his God is in his heart; his feet do not slip.” and Psalm 119:11 that talks about the value of knowing and treasuring God’s word in our hearts. “Your word I have treasured in my heart, that I may not sin against You.”

I’m grateful now for the scripture verses I committed to memory as a child as well as those I learned as our son worked on his Kids Club memory badges. How many times has a scripture verse I memorized years ago, come back to me just when I needed the reminder! I’m glad those verses are tucked away in my heart.

Now if I could just get rid of Shoo Fly!

No -- that's not the answer! It would be more fun if you sang along! Just click on this link:

http://www.geocities.com/EnchantedForest/Cottage/3192/Shoofly.html

All Shapes and Sizes

I ‘ooohed’ and ‘ahhhed’ over the shells and pieces of coral, carefully inspecting each one before adding it to the growing collection in my bag. You see, I have a rock garden here at the ‘end of the road,’ and I love the idea of having all kinds of rocks placed between the creeping greenery. My friend, Elaine, loves rocks, too. She once told me that we don’t ‘steal’ rocks, we just move them. And after we’re gone from this earth, someone else will move them again. So far, I have 'moved' rocks from the coulee below our house, my grandfather's homestead, and Arizona.

A week ago, I took a leisurely morning walk along a beach in Mexico, looking for some additions to my garden rock collection. The shells and coral pieces were plentiful; I could have had bags in just minutes. But I was being quite choosy. They had to meet my standards before making the ‘cut’. My luggage was already overweight, and I wasn’t keen to pay extra just to get these pieces home. They had to go in my carry-on and there was precious little room there, too.

So, I had to be ruthless in my choosing. No broken pieces, only shells that were well-marked and well-polished. Nothing too large, too small, too heavy, or too fragile. I thought about how just one ‘fault’ would result in a piece being discarded.... And I thought about how wonderful it is that our God doesn’t choose this same way.

The second chapter of Luke, records the Christmas story. In verse ten we read the angel’s announcement of Jesus’ birth,

“Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.”

This message was for ALL people – not just the pretty, the well-polished, the ‘right-sized’ or the strong -- but ALL people. Through the precious gift of His own Son, God welcomes us ALL into His family.

“Thank you, Father, that you don’t choose only some –

but that you welcome all who seek you.”

It will be many months before I place these wonderful shells and pieces of coral out in my rock garden. It's 25 degrees below zero here today and garden is covered in snow. Spring seems far away. But when I do place my new additions, I'll remember the beach in Mexico and thank God, once again, that He doesn't pick favourites -- ALL are welcome.

It's Good To Be Home

I just returned from a great vacation in Mexico. This time we travelled with our son and daughter-in-law. SO MUCH FUN!

One of the highlights for me was visiting the Mayan ruins and climbing to the top of the oldest pyramid in Mexico! This was a remarkable accomplishment because, you see, I am stair-challenged.

No kidding. From as far back as I can remember, I have fallen down stairs quite handily. Mom used to say that she’d see me at the top of the stairs with my foot out, ready to descend, and down I’d tumble for no apparent reason.

Later, as a teen, one of my most embarrassing moments involved falling down a flight of stairs in a store. My sister didn’t watch my klutzy move, but when she heard the clatter, she knew what had happened. “Just Joey, falling down some stairs again!”

Years later, when I taught at a community college, I was a little concerned that almost all my classes were booked for classrooms on the second floor of my building. I managed to avoid falling on those stairs – but I really took my time, and held onto the railing for dear life!

So, you see, for me to successfully climb this pyramid (and get down without falling!) was a thrill beyond belief.

It was a great vacation. Lots of sun, fabulous food, and great company. But I’m glad to be back home at the ‘end of the road’ once more. I have a flight of stairs here, too, but they aren’t nearly as steep as those on the pyramid and, when I take a tumble, the carpet provides a cushion that the cold, hard stones on the pyramid steps do not. Ah, yes, it is good to be home!

This evening I've been thinking about our steps in life. Proverbs 4: 11-13 reads:

I guide you in the way of wisdom and lead you along straight paths. When you walk, your steps will not be hampered; when you run, you will not stumble. Hold on to instruction, do not let it go; guard it well, for it is your life.

“Father, thank you for guiding my steps on that pyramid.

Help me to hold on to Your instruction for all of my journeys in this life.

Plant my feet on Your pathway and guide me all the way --

until I say for the last time,

"It's good to be home."

Cell Phone Fun

When I paid my last cell phone bill, I thought it looked pretty steep. Why not check in with the company to see if they could offer me a better rate? This is how it went:

After I dial, I have no patience to listen to all the choices, so I just keep pressing ‘0’ and hope that eventually a person will pick up the phone. After several attempts to have me ‘choose from the following options,’ a live voice comes on.

Ahmed: Hello, this is Ahmed. May I have your name, telephone number and password please?

I can manage the first two because it’s been a pretty good day. The last one has me stumped. I ask if he can give me a hint. That is met with a long pause. I try a few possible passwords and finally get the right one.

Ahmed: How may I help you today?

Me: I need to know if I’m on the right plan. My last bill was really high, and I’m sure you have a better plan for me.

Ahmed: Okay, let’s have a look at that. Oh, I see that you are on the “Your Choice 25.” It includes 100 minutes and costs only 25 dollars.

Me: Yes, but my last bill was over 60 dollars. I must have gone over my minutes.

Ahmed: Well, it includes free evenings and weekends.

Me: I use the phone only to call my husband for advice when I’m feeding animals or checking that the waterers aren’t frozen. I’m pretty sure I don’t use the phone in the evenings because it gets dark around 4 o’clock, and I can’t feed after dark. What I really need is more daytime minutes.

Ahmed: Yes, I see that you have not used your evening minutes. Well, let’s see if we have a plan that would be better for you. How about this one: It costs 25 dollars, has 100 minutes and also has free weekends and free texting.

Me: Free weekends won’t help me out much, Ahmed. That’s the trouble with animals – you can’t wait ‘til the weekend to feed them or you’ll have the SPCA come callin’. (I’m having some fun, now) And about the texting, I don’t know how to do that. And I’m pretty sure my husband doesn’t either. Besides, I need to actually talk to him when things go wrong. It would be hard for him to text me directions for thawing out a frozen waterer. What I really need is more daytime minutes.

Long pause.

Ahmed: I see. Well, what about this one: It costs $25, comes with 100 minutes and free internet.

Now it’s my turn to pause…

Me: That sounds interesting, Ahmed. But I just don’t think that I’ll be online while I’m in the corrals. (More fun – Ahmed needs something to talk about at coffee time!) We’ve got one really mean cow who is likely to put me over the fence if I stop to check my email. It’s okay, Ahmed, really. I’ll just try to make this plan work for now. Thanks anyway.

Ahmed: Thank you for calling. Have a good day.

Many years ago, I heard this great little poem:

Use it up.

Wear it out.

Make do --

Or do without.

"Bigger, better, faster, more"-- seems to be the way of this world. Maybe I need to think of ways I can make do -- or do without.

Ecc. 6:9 says,

“Being satisfied with what you have is better than always wanting more.”

I’m pretty sure that I can manage with my current cell phone plan. Especially since my husband tells me he has fixed the blessed waterers!

Road Trip

There is just something special about women’s friendship. Don’t you just love ‘em? Yesterday I went for a road trip with two good women to see a friend of ours (another good woman!) Shortly after I was on the road, I realized that I’d forgotten to ‘load the tunes.’ The trip was about 90 minutes each way, but we didn’t miss the tunes one bit because we were so busy talking (about everything!) and laughing.

On the way, we stopped in a really small town and drove around until we found an open restaurant. Maybe you know the kind of place – a small hotel coffee shop with arborite tables, chrome chairs, and kitchen lino on the floor. Everyone in the place knew everyone else. We were obviously strangers in the town. After we ate and got back to the car, I mentioned feeling that I didn’t really ‘belong’. One of my friends assured me – they weren’t staring at us because we didn’t belong – it was because we’re so hot!

You gotta love friends like that!

Proverbs 17:17 says,

“A friend loves at all times.”

I know I can count on these three women to love me enough to have fun with me, tell me the truth (gently) and encourage me when my own 'road trip' isn't much fun. And I hope they know I will do the same for them.

Next time you need a boost, call your friends and take a road trip. And know when the locals stare at you -- it’s because you’re all hot!

The Real Thing

This morning I noticed my houseplants – almost all in various stages of demise. I’ve been so busy with other things that I’d pretty much forgotten even the basics of care – like watering. Because some of them wouldn’t last another day, I grabbed a bucket of water and my kitchen shears and set to work. While I was working, I remembered that on my blog profile I claim an interest in ‘plants.’ Oh really? Like the half-dead Boston Fern? Or maybe the African Violets pathetically pleading for water? Is this claim really true about me? You wouldn’t know it by examining the evidence.

A few weeks ago, my husband and I were having dinner in a restaurant. Next to our little ‘table for two’ was a larger group of 6 young couples. I think it might have been someone’s birthday. What a great opportunity for them to enjoy their friendship. But instead of talking to the others and enjoying their time together, they spent almost the entire time on their cell phones texting or taking pictures of themselves having ‘fun.’ Now, please don’t get me wrong – I love to have pictures of times I spend with friends. However, with this group it seemed that creating the ‘image’ of having fun was more important than actually engaging.

I’ve been thinking a lot about authenticity. Maybe you can relate – it’s so tempting to present to others, an image of someone who lives in a world of cool activities and impressive accomplishments. Someone who ‘keeps it together.’ Her life is great, her husband is wonderful, and her kids ‘rise up and call her blessed.’

Why do we do that? I think it starts with the comparison game. Others' lives often appear far 'better' than our own. Maybe in an effort to impress, be accepted, or feel better about ourselves, we create a better image. If you have done this (and I think we all do to a certain extent) you know how energy-draining it is. Besides that, I wonder how meaningful our relationships can be if we’re not ‘real’ with each other or even with ourselves.

Aren’t you glad we don’t have to worry about wearing a mask with God? Psalm 139: 3b says,

You are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely.

What a great reminder that we don’t have to be anyone but ourselves with our Heavenly Father. He knows us and He loves us. And He’s not impressed by ‘cool.’

Thank you, Father, that we can come to you just as we are – no masks. Help us to be more authentic with others and with ourselves.

Taller and Thinner

November 17, 2008

Taller and Thinner

Not long ago, my friend Debbie shared a great story about one of her neighbours. She picked up her ringing phone late one autumn afternoon and heard her neighbour saying, “Quick – go outside right now. The sun is in a great place and the shadows are really long. You’ll never be as tall or as thin as right now! Go look!”

I love that story. I love that neighbour. How cool was that? I’ve been waiting for the sun to be ‘just right’ since Debbie told me that story. And last Saturday was the time. I grabbed my camera and caught it on film. Here’s the proof!

I don’t know a woman who isn’t affected by society’s obsession with the ‘perfect’ body type. It’s really hard; we’re bombarded with it on a daily basis.

I found a good reminder in Proverbs 31: 30:
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.


Father, help us to remember that you look
beyond our outward appearance.
You know our hearts.
Our beauty rests in You.

Winter Wood

“At least we won’t go hungry this winter,” my preschool neighbour said in her best ‘practical farmer’ voice. She and Grandma had spent the day digging potatoes, and I’m pretty sure she’d heard those words from Grandma as they worked away at the big job.

Today, when our ‘woodman’ came with our winter’s supply, I remembered my little neighbour’s words. “Well, at least we won’t be cold this winter,” I thought as I watched three cords of wood tumbling out of his big truck, onto the ground.

Maybe it’s the time of year – or because we live ‘at the end of the road’ a distance from town, but I feel a little better knowing we’re ready for the months ahead. Like my neighbour, we have plenty of potatoes in the cellar, and now we have a nice supply of tamarack and birch. I even have jars of jam and pickles in the coldroom. Now I just need to find recipes that combine potatoes with raspberry jam or tomato salsa!

Matthew 6:8 says, “My Father knows what you need before you ask Him.”

Thank you, Father, for supplying our needs.
May Your love warm our home.

"It Must Be Your Driving!"

I’m hesitant to say that I’m a quilter because when real quilters hear that, they start conversations about techniques I’ve never heard of and use words that sound like a mixture of French, Greek and Latin. Those conversations end shortly with my stammering an explanation that well, "I’m just a beginner." Truth is, I’ve been a ‘beginner’ for about 10 years – and I have yet to finish the binding on one of my first projects. I guess I’m a wannabe. I love looking at quilts, pouring over quilting patterns in magazines, hanging out a fabric stores, and eavesdropping on real quilters’ conversations. Maybe I’ll absorb some of their skill if I just stand near enough and listen closely.
I’ll never forget my first quilting class. I packed up my brand new sewing machine and newly purchased cotton, and drove the 20 miles or so to the first day of class. I had never seen a rotary cutter but thought it looked pretty slick – this would make quick work of cutting all those squares! Somehow, it didn’t work that well when I was steering it. Everyone in the class seemed to be ‘expert’ sewers; they knew all the jargon and kept up with the teacher quite handily. I was, without a doubt, the ‘slow learner’ in the class. It seemed the poor teacher was always waiting for me. (It takes a while to thread your bobbin if you have to refer to your sewing machine manual first!) Of course, I spent most of my time ripping stitches and ‘trying again’. As I ripped out a seam for the fourth time, the teacher (the most patient person I have ever met) checked my measurements. But they were right. Her only explanation for my grief was, “It must be your driving!”
Last night, I was hurrying to finish a quilt for a Christmas gift. Rather than take the time to mark the two inch squares on the diagonal, I thought I’d save time and just ‘eyeball it’. After all, I know lots of people who do that quite successfully.
Well, apparently, my ‘driving’ hasn’t improved much since that first quilting class. My stitches were wobbly, which made the edges less than crisp. My idea to save time, had the opposite effect. After ripping out the third attempt, I decided that taking time to mark each square would be a wise investment and probably result in a better product. When I had a line to follow, my driving improved immensely!
The Bible tells us in Proverbs 3:6 that when we acknowledge God in every area of our lives, He will make our paths straight. With a promise like that, I wonder why I so often find myself navigating wobbly roads.

Thank you, Father, that you love even those of us who are ‘slow learners’ and ‘bad drivers’. Help us to remember your promise to make our paths straight.

The War to End All Wars

Many years ago, I visited my great aunt (the little girl shown above standing in front of her mother) for what was to be the last time. She had cancer and died later that year. It was a week of sharing and getting to know each other, she a widow in her seventies and I, a young married mom in my twenties. Because I shared her name, she was very special to me. And I certainly felt special to her.
One of the many stories that Aunt Johan shared, took place in her childhood on the windswept prairie near Three Hills, Alberta. Two brothers, William and Alex had neighbouring homesteads. One day, Johan’s father, William, called to her in an urgent voice. “Johan, I can see John coming. He’s running. Something is wrong. Go now, and learn the matter.” With that, Johan, just a child herself, began to run up the road toward her cousin.
These 90 years later, I picture the scene. I know that road; we still own that land. Young John winded but continuing to run; Johan, a small girl, running with all her might to learn the reason for the urgency. When at last they met, John’s message was not one of trouble, or concern, but rather one of joy. John’s family had just returned from town where they learned the wonderful news, “The war is over!”
I can still see my aunt’s eyes filling with tears as she ended the story, “and that was the First World War – the war to end all wars.”
No one celebrating that day would have considered that two short decades later, the world would once again be at war. And then another, and another…
This morning as I pause to remember those who died for our freedom, I also want to remember that we are promised a time when “Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore” (Isaiah 2:4). Imagine it!

I Know Whose Daughter You Are

I grew up on an Alberta farm in the 60’s. While it doesn’t seem that long ago, in some ways it was a very different world. For instance: my mother always had a large meal at noon, and anyone working at the farm for the day, came in and ate ‘dinner’ with us. No one would have packed a lunch; my parents would insist that they join us for our noon meal. It was a given. I can still hear Dad’s booming voice, “Come on in,” at noontime. My mom was a great cook, and sometimes I think people planned their work around those meal times – just to get a piece of her terrific apple pie!
A few years ago, we had some work done on our house – new flooring, to be exact. Shortly after the workers arrived in the morning, I started to think about what I would make for dinner. By the time, noon arrived, I had a ‘worker-styled’ meal on the table, and I called, “Lunchtime!” One young man replied that they had brought their lunch and they’d just eat it. Of course, I insisted that when they were working at my home, they would be fed, and that they should just save their lunch for another day. He replied, “I should have guessed that we wouldn’t need to pack a lunch, because I know whose daughter you are.” He went on to explain that he knew my parents and their reputation for feeding everyone who happened to stop by. I have to admit, I was pleased. It was great to be linked with such hospitable people.
Those words, “I know whose daughter you are,” still ring in my head. My parents have gone on to be with the Lord, and I miss them every day. But I am thankful for the heritage they left, and whenever someone stops by at mealtime, I remember that line, “I know whose daughter you are.” Often times, I'm embarrassed that it’s just leftovers or a sandwich, but I offer them with the sense of hospitality that my parents taught me.
Recently, I was remembering that line, “I know whose daughter you are,” and I thought about my heavenly Father. John 1:12 says, “Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” Do people know that besides being Bill and Betty's daughter, I’m also a daughter of the King of Kings? Are my words and actions evidence of that family relationship? Too often, people wouldn’t know that, for my actions are far from His teaching. This verse is a good reminder that I’m a child of the King, and if I want others to know whose daughter I am, I need to live His way.