Breath-taking

I've been wasting my breath.

There will be no more explanations from me, about why Mom doesn’t seem to hear so well, or trying to make excuses for a seemingly random behaviour.  I’m done with all of that.  And it is such a relief.  I suppose I have felt a need to protect her, and there is a place for that; for advocacy.  But my Mom should not need protection from her own community. 

You think I would have caught on a long time ago.  As signs of dementia continued to add up, I dug deeper into my arsenal of excuses; explaining to strangers, friends and family, that Mom has dementia and it is affecting everything about her life, and about mine.  Since when has it been the seeming norm to have to explain a loved one’s uncertainty; of their loss of memory; of their confusion over being given several steps in a process, all at once? 

Here’s hoping that people will not look at her askance, but rather that they will simply love her, enjoy her, interact with her, and show kindness and patience.  She is a delightful, funny, capricious, kind, compassionate, kitty-loving, energetic, busy, creative, insightful, thoughtful woman.  She can also be very annoying, with her obsessive attention to little details; so unlike me. But, we manage.

Here’s hoping we will still sing, savour fresh lobster sandwiches at local eateries, shop for groceries, poke around in second-hand stores, go to concerts, read out loud to one another, and dance, dance, dance.  There may come a time when we will no longer be able to do these things.  So be it, but even then, I won’t be wasting my breath.  I’ll save it for the laughter and the tears that are sure to come; by God’s grace.

I love you, Mom.

“Beloved, let us love one another,

For love is from God;

And everyone who loves is born of God and knows God.”

(1 John 4:7)

Those Hands

I try to hold my mother's hands as often as possible.  There are 93 years of character etched into those beautiful hands.  One day, I will hold them no longer and I want their memory to be etched onto my heart.  She held my hands, as a baby, and now I have the privilege of holding hers.

What was it like for Mary?  What was it like for her to hold Jesus' tiny hand in hers, at His birth; to have Him curl His little fingers around one of hers, in that sweet baby-pose; to hold His hand as they walked through the little town of Bethlehem?  Mary, holding his hand ever-so-tightly, so that He did not fall.  And then, in the middle of the night, she had to take Him up in her arms and flee for their very lives.  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph - refugees.  Escaping to Egypt.  At night.  And Jesus was two years old. (Matthew 2:13,14,16)

Their return,(Matthew 2:15), was prophesied in Hosea 11:1 "Out of Egypt have I called my Son."  But this had actually happened before; to a different son.  God called the nation of Israel, "my son," in Hosea's prophecy. And now, hundreds of years later, it is Jesus who is spoken about, in the same prophecy.  I am fascinated by these mountain-peak vistas in the bible.  At once, looking back to a crucial point in salvation-history and yet also looking ahead to Jesus Christ.

In the first instance, Moses, humbled by his time as a shepherd in the wilderness, led the nation out of Egypt; that mass exodus of close to a million people who had been slaves to the Pharaoh,(Exodus 12:40,41).  And then Jesus, "...being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross."(Philippians 2:8).  He was lead out of Egypt to become the Saviour of the world; leading countless numbers of people out of the slavery of sin and into His righteousness.  I cannot imagine anything more humbling - God becoming flesh.

What was it like for Mary; knowing  that her son who would be born was the Son of God, (Luke 1:35)? Jesus in the womb of Mary; taking on human form, walking with His mother hand-in-hand.  The little boy's hands that she held at His birth would soon enough be nailed to a cross.  His death would be for her, (Luke 1:47); and for me, and for you.

Jesus had allowed humanity to handle Him:  "What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we beheld and our hands handled concerning the Word of Life,"(1 John 1:1).

Hands held Him: at His birth, in His mother's arms; at His death, nailed to a cross by Roman soldiers; at His burial, having been taken down from the cross by two believing Pharisees; at His resurrection, where Mary Magdalene held onto Him, and Thomas was told to put his finger in the nail-prints and place his hand in Jesus' riven side.

I thank God for this greatest of gifts, celebrated at Christmas-time.  Jesus' little hands eventually stretched out to encompass the world; offering forgiveness of sin through His life, death and resurrection.  I thank God He called His son out of Egypt.  I thank God those hands are forever etched with the imprint of the nails; those hands that I will one day see.

The Unexpected One?

Waiting in line can be annoying.  Bus lines. Coffee lines.  Grocery lines.  Pregnant-with-a-baby-absolutely-no-one-expected lines.  Wait a minute!  Lots of women are pregnant when they have least expected to be so.  Some, because of horrible rape - perpetrated by evil.  Others, because they have tried for so long to get pregnant; adoption is the option and “Voila,” an ultrasound brings tears of joy. 

And then there was Mary.  An unsuspecting virgin teenager, betrothed to Joseph, an even more unsuspecting carpenter-turned-stepfather.  This is the stuff of fiction and wild imaginations.  But, truth be told, it is the work of God.  No one was really expecting the Messiah, except maybe Mary.  She was afraid, but not unwilling, when Gabriel the angel spoke to her about becoming pregnant by the power of the Holy Spirit.  God had not spoken to His people for four hundred years- why would He speak now?  Little did people know that the Word of God would soon be made flesh, (John 1:14).  Jesus, the God-man, knew from the beginning of time that He would come, as a child growing in the womb of a young mother.

Nine months is a very long time to wait- just ask any mom; for that matter, ask my own mom who birthed eight children.  But this unexpected, yet well-announced baby had been coming for millennia.  And the world was caught in unexpected and ever-so-normal routines.  People going about their daily lives: in the market, at the temple, in Herod’s castle, in Bethlehem’s wee little town square where women met to draw water.  No one there had really expected a young woman to show up with her son; the son whom those shepherds had gossiped about a few days ago.  The Son who lived with His parents in Bethlehem for two years after He was born.  You see, those wise men from the East took two long, expectant years to get from their kingdom to visit the King of Kings- following a bright and shining star.

Now, there’s a story of patiently waiting!  Two years.  One star. Travelling at night.  Riches in their bosom – gold, frankincense, and myrrh. They didn’t know that Jesus and Mary and Joseph would use up most of those gifts when they had to flee to Egypt, seeing as Herod the “bought-my-throne-by-murder” king tried to trick them into showing him exactly where this born King was staying. 

But God knew.  All along, God knew.  All along, Jesus knew.  All along the ages, this Unexpected One was prophesied about.  Answering every question, if someone dared to read the Scriptures.  Where He would be born and When and Why and How and Who and What on earth is it all about?

It is all about the salvation of humanity.  Not to be found in a palace; not to be found within your self.  Rather, the unexpected One - laid in a manger, sought out by shepherd-strangers, this greatest gift to humanity.   Mary had waited for nine long months for this miraculous baby to be born.  This is the One whom she marvelled about and of whom she treasured all things up in her heart,(Luke 2:19). It is hard for me to imagine what those nine months were like; anticipating arrival of this miraculous baby.  But it was so worth it.  And we get to harvest a great blessing, because she waited, and wondered at God's provision.

Maybe this Christmas, you have come to realize that this long-awaited baby came for you.  Yes, for you; unexpected as that may seem.  Are you tired of waiting for something great to happen?  It has already taken place, and you don’t need to miss the blessing of it!  Are you weary of the wait for answers to your deepest questions? Jesus is your answer.  Are you fatigued by profound regrets and unmitigated sorrow over your sin?  Jesus is your solace, your comfort, your joy.  When you acknowledge your sin, He will save.

“She will give birth to a son, and you shall give Him the name Jesus, because He will save His people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: 

Behold! The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, 

and they will call Him Immanuel” (which means, “God with us”). 

(Matthew 1:21,22,23)

Communication is Key

Have you ever tried to learn a new language?  It is so fascinating and by times, frustrating.  Teaching ESL (English as a Second Language) classes was such a joy for me.  I loved engaging with people from, literally, all over the world.  So often, as people learned, I could see a pattern.  A few lessons in, they started to understand basic phrases, and then short sentences.  Once we moved on to longer phrases, many students would hear the beginning and the end, but would not catch the middle. 

So, you can imagine the funny responses to a question such as: “What did you have for dessert, once your dinner was finished?”  A response: “I finished my homework!”  Or, “I had apple pie dessert; all finished.”  Another interesting pattern was how common expressions, such as: “You’re pulling my leg,” could be rephrased.  One student came to class and stated:” You are pulling my ankle!”  We laughed a lot, we cried some, and to their credit, these students learned a lot.  They truly longed to communicate; to speak of their families and homeland and challenges and joys.  And I, I would love to have been able to talk with them in their native tongue.  Memorable lessons, and much time and energy was spent in the learning.

In his sermon this past Sunday, our pastor shared with us that people all over the world are wanting to know who God is; how can we know Him; where can we find Him; how can we communicate with Him?  I thought of the lovely Christmas carol: “Joy to the world, the Lord is come!”  To my great joy, I have discovered that God already speaks my language! Thankfully, I didn’t need to go to any classes to begin a relationship with Him, to communicate with Him.  

  

There are three ways in which He has made Himself known, this God who wishes to be known: through Creation, through the Living Word, and through the Written Word:

Ø  He speaks in Creation – “For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse.” (Romans 1:20)

Ø  He speaks FOR me – in the Living Word, in the person of His Son, Jesus Christ, the one whom the apostle John calls: “The Word of Life” (Gospel of John 1: 1 and in his 1^st epistle: 1 John 1:1). He speaks as My Advocate, (1 John 2:1).

Ø  He speaks TO me – in the Written Word, the Bible, to assure me of eternal life, (1 John 5:13); to teach me all I need for life and godliness, (2Peter 1:3)

And finally, wonderfully, He speaks WITH me – in the conversation of prayer (1 John 3:21,22,23; 1 John 5:14,15). 

God really is the absolute best communicator, ever.  

 And He speaks my language; your language.  

  

 He speaks Truth.  He speaks Love. 

He offers to us the Key of Life- found in Jesus Christ.

 Jesus Christ, who is the express image of God.

Jesus Christ, who said to Philip: 

“If you have seen me, you have seen the Father.” (John 14:9)

He is true to His character - you can take Him at His word. 

One Little Wire

So there I was, searching for a little wire latch I had crafted for the suet feeder.  Since it is my favourite spot to feed our wild birds, a lament escaped from my lips!  "Oh, if only I could find you, in the middle of all this dead brown grass.  Why did I drop you?  What if I can't find you?  I can't believe I will have to go and get another piece of wire; you were such a perfect fit!"

And then I thought of Jonah - lamenting over the death of the plant that had protected him from the scorching heat.  Jonah, the prophet who tried to run away from God, got swallowed by a giant fish, was vomited by said fish onto dry land and finally obeyed God by preaching to the people of the city of Nineveh; a city of unbelievers, full of great violence and wickedness.

(Jonah 4:9-11)   "Then God said to Jonah, 'Do you have good reason to be angry about the plant?'  And he said: 'I have good reason to be angry, even to death.'  
Then the Lord said:

 'You had compassion on the plant for which you did not work, and which you did not cause to grow, which came up overnight and perished overnight.  And should I not have compassion on Nineveh, the great city in which  there are more than 120,000 persons who do not know the difference between their right and left hand, as well as many animals?'

My lament was cut short, as I realized I was willing to moan about the loss of a wire but unwilling to weep over the spiritual needs of people.  I was willing to waste my time on a little piece of metal and was oh, so justified, in being distressed about it; but unwilling to spend precious time with my God, praying for the lost souls I meet every day.  And it would seem that God was appealing to Jonah even on behalf of the animals that lived in that great city.  As if to say, "Can't you even show pity for at least the animals?'

Jonah had also said: "I knew that You were a gracious and compassionate God, 

slow to anger and abundant in lovingkindness..." (Jonah 4:2)

Like Jonah, I can know so much about God, but not always reflect His character.  My prayer:

'Lord, have mercy on me and let me see people as you do!'  

I did manage to find another piece of wire. 

The birds are delighted, and I was taught  a valuable lesson.

Eye in the Sky

Have you ever thought: “It won’t happen to me; at least not here!?”  There I was, busy out-and-about with my camera.  It was a secluded spot; some brush and some open terrain, and I needed to “go potty,” as they say.  So, I headed for a somewhat sheltered spot and squatted.  To my great horror, the implausible happened.  No, there was no one lurking around and no one strode out of the bush.  No, that would have been understandable.

I heard a faint and ever-growing “thwack-thwack” sound and there it was, directly above me.  A helicopter hove into view, or should I say I was in its path of vision.  As if that was not enough, emblazoned on the side of the chopper were the lovely letters: R.C.M.P.  Oh my; caught in the act!

Well, I certainly could not stop in mid-whiz so I turned every shade of red and watched as the helicopter faded into the eastern sky.  Whew!  That was so unexpected.

As I made my way out of the bush and on to other adventures, it occurred to me that I treat God like that.  I don’t expect Him to do the unexpected and yet He does it every single day.  He brings life out of death, when someone trusts in Jesus, the One who died so we might  have eternal life.  He renews a flagging spirit by someone’s gentle words; He refreshes our souls with a cup of cold water, or an awesome vista. We are shown mercy when none is deserved.

“Now to Him who is able to do exceeding abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, 

according to the power that works within us, 

to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus 

to all generations forever and ever.  Amen.”  (Ephesians 3:20,21)

Ah, Lord, help me to expect the unexpected; forgive me for not asking for great things from a great God.  Remind me that You are the real “eye in the sky,” not watching my every move for the sake of judging but watching my every move for the sake of encouraging and teaching.

Oh, and by the way, in case you were wondering; next time, I’ll hit the loo before I head out.

Back-to-back

I can nag.  A lot.  It does not bode well for Mom, (92 years of age), whose persevering spirit borders on pure streaks of stubbornness.  So I’ve been praying.  And I have asked my friend to pray with me: for small steps of obedience in conquering this nagging habit.

Today, as I walked out the door to bring my Mom a snack, I prayed: “Lord, I don’t want to cajole, argue or plead.  Please give me a better way.”  You see, Mom would say that she didn’t need a break; that she would come in when she was ready; that I was far too worried, (or bossy)!

I sat down on the ground with her, back-to-back; legs stretched out.  I could hear the sweet munching on fresh strawberries and the thirst-quenching gurgle of cold water.  I could feel the contented sigh of rest without regret and the joy of a shared moment; and I was grateful for this seemingly small victory.

And it got better.  God, in His providence, has me teaching Junior Church tomorrow, and so I settled in to prepare.  The story of Naaman, (2 Kings 5), sealed it for me.  He had refused to go and wash in the Jordan River seven times; the prophet Elisha’s answer to Naaman’s quest for a cure for his leprosy.  You see, a “little servant girl” whom they had captured from the land of Israel, cared enough about her master that she suggested he go and see the man of God- Elisha.   She was not afraid to be obedient to her Lord, the God of Israel, in speaking of His great powers, and she cared deeply for this man; even though she had been captured.  Such a seemingly little thing she did.

But now, upon hearing Elisha’s instructions, Naaman answers in a rage: “Behold, I thought, he will surely come out to me, and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God and wave his hand over the place, and cure the leper,” (verse11).  Now, we meet more of Naaman’s servants, who reply: “My father, had the prophet told you to do some great thing, would you not have done it?”, (v. 13).  How kind his servants were!  How simple their response!  If you read the entire chapter, you will see that Naaman concedes and is healed.  Not only so, he becomes a believer in the one true God. 

There is nothing small in one simple step of obedience.  Indeed, there is glory to God.   As for me, I didn’t just side-step my usual pestering, I knew victory.

Strawberries never tasted sweeter.