Healing Rain

 

Creston gold field rain IMG_4469

 

Healing rain is coming down
It’s coming nearer to this old town.
Rich and poor, weak and strong
It’s bringing mercy, it won’t be long…

 

creston hay fields rain ch crop IMG_4481

 

Lift your heads, let us return
To the mercy seat where time began.
And in your eyes I see the pain.
Come soak this dry heart with healing rain.
And only you, the Son of Man
Can take a leper and let him stand.
So lift your hands, they can be held
By someone greater, the Great I Am.

 

IMG_4158 rain

 

Healing rain, it comes with fire
So let it fall and take us higher.
Healing rain, I’m not afraid
To be washed in Heaven’s rain.
To be washed in Heaven’s rain.

(By Michael Smith, Michael Whitaker, Matt Smith, Martin James.)

 

IMG_1867 raindrop 2 ch

 

 

IMG_1900 rain apples ch

Bashless

I was tempted to go on a rant about a certain religious hypocrite who builds his own power base by preying on vulnerable people’s spiritual longings. I fussed and fumed for a while and decided to re-post this instead. I need the reminder. Consider this an open letter to myself — but contrary to the entire concept of open letters, the person to whom it is addressed has actually read it.

Charis Psallo's avatarCharis: Subject to Change

I hope to keep this blog a bash-free zone, not that it comes easily to me. Change will  require effort. I have been known to wield an acid pen and in the past have taken far too much delight in humour that comes at the expense of another’s dignity. Sorry ‘bout that.

I just read this: Now if you feel inclined to set yourself up as a judge of those who sin, let me assure you, whoever you are, that you are in no position to do so. For at whatever point you condemn others you automatically condemn yourself, since you, the judge, commit the same sins. God’s judgment, we know, is utterly impartial in its action against such evil-doers. What makes you think that you who so readily judge the sins of others, can consider yourself beyond the judgment of God? Are you, perhaps, misinterpreting God’s generosity and patient…

View original post 663 more words

Keep Going. Keep Growing.

eager hill ch trail path climb view fisher

Faithfulness requires the courage to risk everything on Jesus, the willingness to keep growing, and the readiness to risk failure throughout our lives.
-Brennan Manning

Gutted

basement shovel bin construction IMG_4982

It all started with the bathroom ceiling. We couldn’t figure out how to fix it.

In this part of the world the basement is more than a foundation. It is a well-used part of the house. We had a bedroom, partially finished bathroom/laundry room, storage/utility room, craft room, and family room with a big stone fireplace down there. Since it’s not the part of the house that students and guests usually see, it has received the least attention as far as repairs and maintenance go. But we fixed the leak last summer and had an unexpected provision of income this year so we decided it was time to tackle the basement.

I just wanted a proper bathroom with a ceiling, and maybe a shower. It would be nice if the ugly dark water-stained wallboard in the bedroom and hallway could be replaced with Sheetrock while we were at it.

We have a super carpenter (he happens to be our son and already did a splendid job on the kitchen and roof). He asked us to empty three rooms and a storage area of all the stuff hidden away in there. My daughter and daughter-in-law and close friend helped sort, toss and recycle.

I found things I didn’t remember we had. It was like seeing my life pass before my eyes. It’s tough to say goodbye to objects from times of my life that are no more.
-Boxes of music books and teaching aids.
-Crafts the kids made or gifts students gave me.
-Sports equipment that makes me shrug and walk away.
-Craft and sewing projects that would be merely quasi-useful or unappreciated if I ever did manage to finish them.
-Perfectly good collections of stuff that could be quite useful  if I had the inclination to actually fix or re-purpose them.
-Camping equipment that will probably not come out of the bins because my husband still hates camping – and it definitely fails the five year guideline (“If you haven’t used it in two years, it goes, Mom.” We bargained it up to five years because I hope to get back on my cross-country skis someday.)
-Things that reveal how much I live in fear of having to scrounge to survive in the future.
-Books I think someone besides me should read. (I just haven’t met them yet.)
-Movies you couldn’t pay me to watch again.
-Cleaning supplies that were not as magical as promised. Apparently they required application and effort.
-Baby items, in case one of the kids changes his or her mind.
-Research for the novel I never finished.

Mourning was involved.

We bagged and boxed and the guys took it all down to the thrift shop or the dump. Then the gutting began. With the walls, and toilet, sink and old washer and dryer  gone and with the musty flooring peeled back and scraped off  and everything we kept piled ceiling high in the family room it looked very different. The carpenter kept telling us about more uncovered discoveries that needed to be fixed, moved or replaced.

The basement is a mess. It’s been gutted. Down to the concrete. Torn apart. Jack-hammered in parts. Stinky, because pipes had to be moved. Dusty, because who cleans pipes and vents? Mouse poopy, because apparently we entertained a family at some point in history.

“This is not up to code,” the carpenter said. A lot.
“This was maybe okay thirty years ago, but not now. Look, you’ve got a frost bubble in that line to the outside faucet. We’ll need to take the mudroom wall out too.” He tore it down and took it away.

“You’re going to have to change some of your plans,” he sighed. He must have seen the look on my face. “Give me some time and I’ll come up with something. For one thing, I’ll give you more windows and better lighting and much more efficient use of space.”

basement new windows bw ch IMG_4986

So here we are in the basement, torn up, tossed out, piled up, stripped down and with limited electric power. I realized this mess in our basement, which also spills into the rest of the house in the form of black finger prints, concrete dust, and muddy footprints, (and as our neighbour complained yesterday, shows up in the yard in the form of neglected grass-trimming) is kind of symbolic of what has been happening in my life in the past year or two. I wanted a repair that would make improvements in function and appearance.

“Restore me, Lord,” I prayed.

God decided to gut me. He changed my plans. He pointed out areas that look fine on the surface but will not work in the long run.

He is not doing a restoration of the facade. He is working on the foundation. He is giving me more light. He is urging me to let go of old thoughts and desires and habits and replacing them with his version of something new (that I haven’t seen yet.) He is not merely repairing or restoring. He is renovating. Re-newing. Re-forming. When I think I know where He is going with this He points out how changing one area affects everything else in my life. More walls have to come down. New supports and headers have to go up. The job keeps growing.

I wanted a new clean comfortable “throne room”; He wants to build a palace fit for a King.

Sometimes I appear to be a mess. I am throwing out old assumptions. I am letting go of familiar ways of doing things. I have disappeared into the place of stored memories and come out smelling like poo pipes as I try to learn new ways of dealing with stuff that needs to be flushed. I don’t know how to do this. The mess spills over into other areas and sometimes I’m hot and tired and grubby and emotional and I take it out on innocent bystanders who are perfectly content with their tidy routines. Sorry about that.

I keep running into people who seem to be going through this same process of re-thinking and re-forming. It’s like seeing microcosms of a larger reformation popping up everywhere. What are you doing, Lord?

These folks are getting push-back though. Changes in thinking and operating affect balance in our relationships because it’s difficult to change without provoking defensiveness in others. The mess clean-up makes irritates other people, like a six-foot strip of untrimmed lawn annoys a neighbour, when they are just trying to maintain standards in the neighbourhood and are not in the mood for upheaval.

It’s painful and isolating, this gutting process. But I know the Master Builder. I’ve seen his work.

I trust Him.

basement bedroom sawhorse hammer construction IMG_4886

Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me. (Psalm 51:10)

Shame-less

pink yellow rose rain drops IMG_4980

“If we can share our story with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame can’t survive.”
― Brené Brown

Shame. Shame on you. That’s a shame. What a shameful thing to do. You shameless hussy!

Shame has power. Shame doesn’t  just say, “You did something wrong.” Shame says, “You are something wrong.” Shame asks, “What would people think if they knew…?” Shame says, “You are not worthy.”

We can hide it, we can excuse it, we can justify it, we can take pride in it or we can use its perverse power to judge others.

Most of us hide our shameful stuff away. We close and lock the bathroom door on more than our bad smells and unmentionable bits. We lock doors to keep our weaknesses, our temptations, our messes, our doubts, our hateful side out of sight. Shame holds us prisoner in the bathroom, in the closet, in the basement, behind anonymous accounts, inside less-shameful-than-thou good-works forts.

Some people fling open those doors, declaring they have no shame because sin, like bodily functions, is a normal, unavoidable part of life. Sometimes they re-define sin. Like the fallen woman in Proverbs they eat forbidden fruit, wipe their mouths and say, “I have done no wrong.”

Some people, understanding that dealing with shame requires the act of bringing it into the light, expose it to people who have little empathy, confessing in meetings full of other shame-based folk ready to foist their own shame onto the sacrificial confessee. Thus they punish themselves and try to cure the problem of shame with more shame.

Opening up to even one other person is taking a risk. It is a courageous act. How many of us have trusted someone with our shame story and later felt betrayed? It’s the theme of thousands of novels. That’s why we sometimes pay professionals to keep our secrets, and hope their pride in reputation will give us another layer of protection.

There are people who will sympathize (“Yes. I’ve done the same things.”)  but precious few who can empathize (“Yes. I feel your pain even though I have not done the same thing.”). Jesus Christ is one who empathizes. He has compassion. He knows what temptation feels like and can understand our weaknesses, but not as a sympathizer who needs to justify or dismiss it because he is also guilty. He did not give in. Instead he bore our shame willingly, accepting shameful death on a shameful cross in collaboration with the ultimate symbol of societal rejection – execution, because he didn’t come to heap on the condemnation our shame says we deserve. He did it because he loves us and wants to free us from shame.

It’s wonderful to find that rare safe person who will respond with empathy and understanding to our shame, but there is One who is guaranteed to understand — and He not only takes it away, He changes who we are. The old shameful part dies and is buried with Him. We are raised a new creation, one that knows where grace and mercy sit. We can boldly approach God.

 So then, since we have a great High Priest who has entered heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to what we believe.  This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same testings we do, yet he did not sin.  So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most. (Hebrews 4:14 – 16)

A Gift of Chard

chard red gouache

“The discipline of gratitude is the explicit effort to acknowledge that all I am and have is given to me as a gift of love, a gift to be celebrated with joy.”

– Henri Nouwen

Source

 

IMG_3739

The Eternal is the source of my strength and the shield that guards me. When I learn to rest and truly trust Him, He sends His help. This is why my heart is singing! I open my mouth to praise Him, and thankfulness rises as song….

(Psalm 28:7 The Voice)

But What Will People Think?

chickens IMG_5654

Sensitive people are often keenly aware of the feelings of others. Too keenly, sometimes.

For many of us the first question that comes to mind when faced with a decision is, “What will people think?”

I read a lot of opinions. You probably do too. Sometimes I feel intimidated by the fashion ranters and political pundits and scientific prognosticators and religious worriers and outrage-of-the-day promoters.

I used to spend lot of time trying to create a persona that would be acceptable to people in the various communities I was involved in — or at least tried to avoid their ire. But one day I realized I was letting people who I did not particularly admire set my standards.

Then I asked myself, Seriously? Do you want to be like this person? Is this someone whose life illustrates who Jesus called you to be? Then why does their approval mean so much?

There are some people I do admire. I would like to be like them. One  of their main characteristics is that they look to Jesus Christ as their model and allow him to be the author and finisher of their faith.

What will people think? What does it matter? Some people will be irritated or critical no matter what you do. They don’t even like themselves let alone anyone else.

I’m not there yet – not by a long-shot – but I hope, that when all is said and done they will think, there goes someone who knows the Creator of the Universe, the God of love. You can tell. 

For the Lord Will Be Your Everlasting Light

august sunset ch IMG_4750

The sun shall be no more
your light by day,
nor for brightness shall the moon
give you light;
but the Lord will be your everlasting light,
and your God will be your glory.

Your sun shall no more go down,
nor your moon withdraw itself;
for the Lord will be your everlasting light,
and your days of mourning shall be ended.

(Isaiah 60:18, 20 ESV)

I often hear people say, “I’ll be happy when this is over.”  Then the next thing happens. They are not happy yet.

Jesus is our light in the darkness now. Our everlasting life is not dependent on physical circumstances.

There is a hope that only the light of eternity can illuminate.

There is a joy in seeing the glory of the Lord even when the sun and moon withdraw.