Oranges!

navel oranges IMG_2923

It’s winter.

We have oranges.

“So?” you may ask.

I asked the same question when the Lord kept drawing my attention to the bowl on the kitchen counter.

I realized, as I peeled a huge navel orange, that my grandmother, living with her malnourished family in two thin-walled granaries pulled together on the frozen prairie in the 30s, would have seen these colourful globes on her table as a miracle.

I realized, as I pulled the juicy segments apart, that unlike my friend, who is now on tube feedings, I can eat oranges.

I realized, as I bit off a piece and the wonderful scent filled my sniffer, that unlike another friend, whose sense of taste has been distorted by chemo, I can taste oranges.

I realized, as I cleaned sticky orange juice off my fingers, that unlike a new Facebook contact, I can afford to buy a bowl of oranges grown in some semi-tropical climate and flown (in the sky!) to my grocery store in Canada. My medication costs under $2500 per dose and is covered by our healthcare. The same drug, at the same dosage, costs over ten times as much in her country and is only partially covered by medical insurance with extremely high premiums.

“So?”

So, there is always, always, something to be thankful for. I see it now.

Thank you, Lord!

 

 

Alongside to Comfort

comfort girls bw IMG_4357

 

Can I be honest? This has not been an easy year.

I sat down this week to write a simple blog entry meant to comfort and encourage others. Twelve hours later I had pages of notes, a list of bigger questions and the certainty I didn’t know what I was talking about. In my spirit, yes, but deep down in my soul where mind, will, and emotions are squabbling with each other? Not really. I understand what the psalmist meant when he wrote “Unite my heart to fear your name.”

I’m the one who has needed comfort and encouragement lately. If I stop to look at the measurable, quantifiable, reproducible, evidence-based facts as recorded by physical senses I begin to panic. It wouldn’t take much of a straw to bring me to child-like tears today.

But as usual, if I stop catastrophizing long enough to listen and acknowledge the greater reality of Spirit and Truth, I know the Holy Spirit is whispering comfort in my ear.

He sends songs in the night.

For two nights this week two lines from different songs have been playing on repeat in my dreams. The first line is from an old 70’s song, Feel the Love, by Lovesong:

Feel the love the Son of God can bring/ By believing… by receiving Him./ Feel the love.

The second is from It’s Going to Be All Right by Sara Groves:

I did not come here to offer you clichés.

He sends friends who have walked this road before.

Wonderful friends share their failures and victories and questions with me. Some have overcome cancer more than once. Some have been through natural disasters and reconstruction. Some have known the pain of feeling like they don’t fit in anywhere. Some have known the pain of betrayal or promises yet unfulfilled. All have known the sorrow of disappointment with oneself. Some are still in the middle of giant unsettled messes right now, and yet they take time to share the comfort they have known.

He sends family and neighbours.

Some traveled miles on horrid winter roads to bring cheer and a vegetable juicer. Some phone late at night when they know I will still be up to check on me or invite me for coffee. Some set the little grandkids up on the cell phone so I can share in their excitement over new dolls and video games and silly faces. The older grandkids text to talk about music and school projects and hopes and dreams or to share photos. My adopted family help by offering coolers when the fridge quits working, jugs of water when the pipes freeze, tools when the digital piano goes silent, patient expertise when the computer freezes, wood for the fireplace, shovels when the car gets stuck and the sidewalks disappear in the snow, and muscles and engineering skills when the retaining wall crashes on the driveway.

He sends podcasts and random Facebook posts. 

Oh, how I appreciate the banquet of good teaching and music shared by people who make an effort to reach out beyond the four walls of their gatherings or dining rooms or vans. I love encouraging posts by sincere blogging and Facebook and Twitter friends. I love reading their insights, visions, and dreams  — and even jokes. Especially the jokes.

Most of all he sends a more sure word recorded in the Bible.

I read these words given through Paul who was honest about the hardships of his journey. It was not an easy road for him.

All praises belong to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. For he is the Father of tender mercy and the God of endless comfort. 

He always comes alongside us to comfort us in every suffering so that we can come alongside those who are in any painful trial. We can bring them this same comfort that God has poured out upon us.

And just as we experience the abundance of Christ’s own sufferings, even more of God’s comfort will cascade upon us through our union with Christ.

If troubles weigh us down, that just means that we will receive even more comfort to pass on to you for your deliverance! For the comfort pouring into us empowers us to bring comfort to you. And with this comfort upholding you, you can endure victoriously the same suffering that we experience.

Now our hope for you is unshakable, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings you will also share in God’s comforting strength.

(2 Corinthians 1:3-7 The Passion Translation)

 

If I’m not posting a lot lately it’s because I’m resting and soaking up comfort I need right now.

I’ll share with you later. I will get there.

Talk to you soon.

 

Essential Travel

frost winter road ch rs DSC_0698 (1)

 

Conditions are not ideal for travel this time of year, yet many people make the journey back “home” or the to the people who represent home. Sometimes a joyful reunion lies at the end of the trip; sometimes a duty-motivated sojourn stirs up painful memories. We still go.

Joseph and Mary made the journey back to the place of their roots. Conditions and timing were not ideal, yet this essential travel was part of God’s plans, not only for them, but for the world’s sake. Many people find themselves on paths they had not anticipated this time last year. I am one.

Sometimes I have been a reluctant traveller, but it is on this path that I am discovering the faithfulness of God and his majesty in the unexpected. I can honestly say he has never left me. When I offer him child-like trust he takes me by the hand and teaches me things that I could not have seen on my previous route.

It’s not an easy road, but it is a beautiful one.

Lord, direct me throughout my journey
so I can experience your plans for my life.
Reveal the life-paths that are pleasing to you.

Escort me along the way; take me by the hand and teach me.
For you are the God of my increasing salvation;
I have wrapped my heart into yours!

(Psalm 25: 4, 5 The Passion Translation)

In Absolute Stillness

new lake south ch rs DSC_0613 (1)

I needed to get out of the house and especially away from media, social and unsociable. I needed to get away from the noise of protestors and prognosticators and postulators and pretenders drunk on power. (Please, make no assumptions about who that may or may not be.)

I felt tired, overwhelmed and unable to hear anything but the chatter of outrage in my head. It’s been too long. I took my camera and headed for the hills.

The sky has been depressingly dull, and the days discouragingly short all week. I thought I saw the clouds thinning to the west so I headed up there. Departing fog left frost on the trees and I stopped and took a few photos, and then kept driving.

frost tree ch rs DSC_0489 (1)

I haven’t been up to New Lake for a long time. I wasn’t sure if there was enough light left late in the afternoon or if I could find a place to turn around if it turned out to be a bad idea. It looked like the narrow road had been plowed, and the urge to see what was around the next bend kept me going just a little further, encouraged by a bit of blue sky ahead.

New Lak frost shoreline winter ch rs DSC_0591 (1)

Snow has a way of dampening noise. I stopped by the lake, turned the engine off and soaked in the silence.

Some of the best together times with God involve no words, no thoughts, no agenda, no time pressure. Just standing still. Just being. Just knowing he is still here.

new lake sun frost ch rs DSC_0572 (1)

Then the sun came out and I felt Him smile.

New Lake frost light winter ch rs DSC_0574 (1)

I am standing in absolute stillness, silent before the one I love,
waiting as long as it takes for him to rescue me.
Only God is my Savior, and he will not fail me.

For he alone is my safe place.
His wrap-around presence always protects me
as my champion defender.
There’s no risk of failure with God!
So why would I let worry paralyze me,
even when troubles multiply around me?

God’s glory is all around me!
His wrap-around presence is all I need,
for the Lord is my Savior, my hero, and my life-giving strength.

(Psalm 62:5-7 The Passion Translation)

new lake winter north ch rs DSC_0575 (1)