Kindness and severity

Photo: Kananaskis country

Behold the kindness and severity of God. Romans 11:22

This phrase doesn’t sound like praise, but I mean it to be.

A person cannot truly appreciate this mountainous country until they have a healthy respect for it. This is no tame amusement park to be entered without consideration; life & death consequences await one who strays from the trails without proper equipment and understanding of the back country. But for one familiar with it’s ways, hiking here is a joyful walk in overwhelming beauty.

So it is with our relationship with God. Awesome, kind, severe, merciful, loving, life-altering beauty so much greater than my ability to comprehend.

His creation, His truth, His rules.

As my husband says, He’s a good listener, but He doesn’t take my advice well – for which I praise Him.

Because of Your great glory

Your mission, should you choose to accept it

Photo: The Mission

Your mission, should you choose to accept it

The woman told me to be careful because there were nails sticking up in some places, but that most of the floor boards that could break had been replaced.

“That was a classroom,” she said, stepping over a pile of debris, “And this is the room where kids went to die.”

“What?” I said.

“Mostly T.B., but other stuff too. The other children weren’t supposed to know, but they did. Kids who went in this room just disappeared.”

She was showing me the old residential school on the St. Eugene Reservation. This was years before the Band’s greatest source of shame and sorrow transformed into their greatest asset.

Much has been written of the horrors of the residential schools in Canada where First Nations children were removed, sometimes forcibly, from their parents and placed, not always gently, in dorms and classrooms where they were raised by people who couldn’t speak their language or understand their culture or who had even had children of their own. It is our national tragedy, our national source of shame.

It would be easy to hate the perpetrators of this cultural fiasco, but many people, misguided though they may have been, thought they were leaving their own comforts behind, living in the wilds to try to improve the lot of children who were not educated to cope with European ways.

Alas, one may leave one’s comforts behind, but one’s discomforts and old wounds come along. This is why we call it baggage. Our methods of coping with baggage are the chief source of collateral damage to succeeding generations.

Some of the people who found their way to teach in isolated residential schools were pure evil, no doubt.

I think many others meant well, after all this is how many Europeans treated their own children. They still do. We still romanticize the boarding school concept in books like Harry Potter. Missionaries’ children are still routinely flown off to walled English-speaking compounds in another country to be raised by people who have sacrificed the comforts of their own homelands to raise other people’s children.

Many refugees of institutionalized European upper crust bullying continue to bully as adult leaders in government institutions and multinational corporations. Some guilt-proofed adult children of the foreign fields, who felt they mattered less than the people their parents were trying to reach, still bear scars as well –even though their substitute parents meant well.

I think it may actually be easier to forgive someone who drives over your foot intentionally than someone who drives over it accidentally. If a person you love and respect drives over your foot accidentally, then expresses how terrible, awful, horrible, miserable and wretched they feel, the victim can forget that they were the victim in the effort to comfort the driver. Some people think forgiveness is saying, “That’s okay. It was no big deal,” when it was a big deal. Whether your foot is crushed accidentally or intentionally you still have pain and you still limp, and if that injury is never given proper attention and healing you limp for the rest of your life.

Then there is the matter of what to do with the anger.

If only everyone who hurt us was the picture of pure evil we could aim all our screaming, kicking and ranting at them. This is why novels have villains. Oh how we love to hate a well-constructed villain. But what do we do with a best friend who drove drunk just that one time? How do we remember a teacher who said one stupid, cruel thing that devastated us for years? How do we forgive a parent who was usually kind, but in a war-time flashback saw us as the enemy? How do we forgive and yet still acknowledge the tremendous pain that resulted from these choices?

Forgiveness is complicated, but ignoring pain causes us to take it out on the next generation. Unresolved anger hides in our suitcase ready to lash out at any curious child who opens it.

The First Nations people on the St. Eugene Mission have done the most remarkable thing. They have inherited the rights to the old mission property, one of the most beautiful places in the world, on which sits a big old stone building that had a room where kids went to die. They have taken the most painful memory of their people’s history and transformed it into a luxury hotel. Some people see only the beautiful setting. Some people see only the memory of horrid pain, but these outstandingly gracious people see both. The object of hatred, the old residential school, has been reborn as a source of education (no denial of pain) and of hospitality (reaching out). They have opened their doors to the world.

What an example. When I took this photo yesterday as I stood on a hill over the Mission it was as if I heard: Yes, you have pain, you have anger, you have scars. You have been hurt by people who meant well, but who had never dealt with their own pain. You have a choice about what you do with that thing in your life that sits like a big red-roofed stone building in the middle of an otherwise beautiful inheritance. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to make something useful, beautiful, and hospitable of your inheritance, both good and bad.

God bless the Ktunaxa.

Historic St. Eugene Mission church in winter

Then sings my soul

Photo: Taken on a walk with wonderful companions on my friend’s ranch this morning

(Click for larger version)

How blessed I am to have friends who love the Lord and love each other

-and don’t try to put each others doctrinal ducks in a row.

The Cowboy Trail

Photo: On the Cowboy Trail in cattle country, Alberta

I grew up in cattle country. How a country western/gospel music culture ever churned out an artsy-fartsy opera singer I’ll never know, but I can still sing country if I want to. This picture reminds me of the old song we sang around the campfire.

He owns the cattle on a thousand hills
The wealth in every mine,
He owns the rivers and the rocks and rills,
The sun and stars that shine,
Wonderful riches more than tongue can tell
He is my Father so they’re mine as well
He owns the cattle on a thousand hills
I know that He will care for me.

I’m still thinking about adoption and being loved and provided for by my heavenly Abba/Daddy. When He adopted me I became a full heir with access to all the riches of my Father’s kingdom. He’s still teaching me to use the gifts he has given responsibly, so that I might be an asset to my Father’s business, but I’m not a homeless street kid anymore.

God is good.

Radiant Hope

Photos: Sunflowers on Eager Hill

May the God of hope fill you with joy and peace in your faith, that by the power of the Holy Spirit, your whole life and outlook may be radiant with hope. Romans 15:13

Rise up!

Photos:  Balsamorhiza saitatta (Click on photos for larger images)In the mountains spring is a vertical event.

As the snow melts the flowers suddenly appear on the hillsides climbing higher every day.

I wait all winter for the sunflowers to appear on Eager Hill. I’ve been out of town helping to care for a grandchild who had surgery last week (he’s fine, thank you) and I was afraid I had missed it. Last evening I was able to grab my camera and hike up the hill. The sunflowers had waited for me. Spring is rising!

Sometimes we wait in the dark and cold and pray and pray –then suddenly God answers. It’s a season of suddenlies.

Thank you Lord! You are so good!

Arise, shine, for your light has come,

and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.

Isaiah 60:1

The Dream Lives

Painted prayer: The Dream Lives

(Click on photo for larger version)

This painting was for a woman with a broken heart who, at the time, faced going through life without a partner.

She chose to respond by staying up all night and thanking God for every single thing she could think of.

God responded by healing her wounds and sending her a wonderful husband (in a most unlikely way) who has blessed her beyond anything she ever dreamed.

God also healed her of infertility and has given them beautiful children.

God is good.

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted
    and saves the crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18

Greening

Photo: Elk Valley

The pastures of the wilderness overflow,

the hills gird themselves with joy,

the valleys deck themselves with grain,

they shout and sing together for joy.

Psalm 65

Sometimes the best way through the valley is through the valley. That’s where the feast is kept.

He Restores My Soul

For my friend,

I believe it was the writings of Henri Nouwen that first made me think about the blessings Jesus talked about (also known as The Beatitudes) as the stages of healing from old wounds and the process of forgiveness. This how I have experienced this part of the journey.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

We come to a point where we realize we do not have what we need to fix our lives by ourselves. We definitely do not have it all together. This is good! It feels awful, but it is a vital step in accessing the kingdom of God. We enter humbly and not with a sense of entitlement. It feels like loss. It feels like that moment when you think you’ve reached the bottom of the stairs, but your foot continues to fall. Old temporary foundations fail and we feel like there is no place left to stand.

That’s what it’s supposed to feel like. Call out to God, “Help!”

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

We admit our faults and are willing to examine the lies we have accepted. By acknowledging that we have created false idols and ineffectual coping mechanisms, by feeling remorse for the hurt we have caused ourselves and others, and by grieving for the resulting losses we receive comfort.

Tell God exactly how you feel, even if you are angry with him. He knows anyway.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

I like this definition of meek: teachable. Meekness means, “I know I don’t have the answers but I am capable of learning, Lord. Teach me.” We sit at the feet of Jesus Christ and listen. When we listen, really listen, we gain an understanding of how God can use anything to work together for our good.

Open your heart to receive your inheritance.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

At this stage we develop a greater hunger for God and long to be in good relationship with him. (note: this is not the first stage. The desire for God increases as we give up our own methods of coping, get honest, and listen. Don’t worry. It will come.) Then, when we let go of the stupid stuff we are hanging onto, which we thought would ease our pain and give us a sense of purpose and significance, like the helper on the Hoarders TV show he asks our permission to come in and haul the junk away. In its place he leaves more satisfying things, like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, meekness, and self-control. He equips us with gifts (tools) to fulfil our destiny.

Throw out the rotten junk food and empty cans. Feast on the righteousness Jesus provides..

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

At this stage we can look up and see the struggles of others. We can see we are not alone and can dare to be empathetic, compassionate and reach out to help others without being pulled under again ourselves -because we are giving out of the abundance the Holy Spirit’s provision for us and within us, and not out of duty or a need to “be a something.” We are aware of his love. We can finally feel it. We can start to be ourselves and give more freely of ourselves.

Let his love flow through you.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

Innocence can’t be restored, but purity can. Without purity, spiritually sensitive people will be overly consumed by the presence of evil, but with restored purity we can see, like Elisha’s servant, that the forces for God are much greater. We have no reason to live in fear. Impurity, in its many forms, leads to bitterness and complaining which result in anxiety and fear.  Purity leads to assurance and confident courage as we can now have our eyes opened to the nature and ways of God.

Be willing to see beyond expectations of disappointment.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

We start to relate differently. We are not as impatient or prone to make judgments on people. We desire restored relationships and renewed bridges.

Give the peace you have been given.

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Forgiveness is not the same as reconciliation. A fully restored relationship requires honesty on both sides. The Bible tells us “As much as is possible be at peace with all men.” We humbly, but confidently do what we can, but the results are not always what we would like. We’re blessed, at peace and learning to comprehend more who we are in Christ. Less and less do we need to buy into into the world’s coping mechanisms, or the excuses of those whose theology is strongly influenced by disappointment. Possessing the peace that passes understanding sometimes means relinquishing the right to understand.

Take the risk of countering attack with goodness.

Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

It’s surprising how some people react when you tell them God healed you or worked miraculously to change your heart. Some will say, “You’ve changed. Change back.” Some are happy for you, but others say, “Prove it.” Some will be offended. Jealousy is not satisfied until a reputation has been destroyed.

Who knew? Well God did, so he warns you. And he says you’re in good company, so rejoice. Spending time getting to know God, learning to hear him speak in many different ways, and having a restored relationship with him is ever so much more fun than depression, anxiety and living a lie. God is good. Very, very good.

We have the privilege of repeating this process many times in life. I say privilege because each step comes with a new blessing. Sometimes it feels like we are going in circles, but we are actually going in spirals, going deeper each time. Sometimes we feel like we spend an inordinate amount of time on one step, but he is faithful and doesn’t give up on us. He understands our pain and sends the Holy Spirit to come along side on the journey.

May the Lord bless you and keep you, my friend. May he make his face shine upon you, be gracious to you and give you peace.

Save