Laudamus te

Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord;
    let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation.
Let us come before him with thanksgiving
    and extol him with music and song.

(Psalm 95:1,2)

Laudamus te (We praise thee)
Benedicimus te (We bless thee)
Adoramus te (We worship thee)
Glorificamus te (We glorify thee)

 

 

Blue Shadows on the Trail

Photos:Sunset on the Cowboy Trail last night

Yes, that is snow.

One of my great joys is listening to my son sing lullabies to his son. He does the best cover of “Blue Shadows on the Trail” that I have ever heard. That boy –OK, man– can sing.

Thank you God. You are good. I have lived to see my children’s children.

Seeking the Giver

I just finished wrapping up some gifts for our grandson’s number changing party. His number is changing from a 2 to a 3. That’s a big deal when you’ve only ever had two numbers before –and only one in reliable memory. I remember one of my kids on his third number changing day singing, “I’m free, I’m free, and then I be four.”

Free-year olds love to open gifts. It’s all about the wrapping paper, so I buy one major toy and a few little things, a few practical things, and wrap them all. When wee ones have wee siblings I wrap up something for the competition too, thus the pink paper. (Why is sharing one of the toughest things for humans to learn?)

Recently I heard someone use the expression, “Those people are seeking the gift and not the Giver. If your faith is solid you don’t need those kind of things.”

They were, of course, speaking of the gifts of the Spirit, especially the dramatic ones like prophecy, healing, miracles and signs and wonders (aka things that make you go ‘huh?’)

I know three-year olds. Will this one seek the gift and not the giver? You betcha. He’s only three. When the pile of gifts from friends and family, which can’t be opened until after the birthday cake ritual, cause him to vibrate in anticipation, who-gave-what will not be the first thing on his mind. When the paper goes flying I expect some of the practical presents will be dropped, perfunctorily, on the floor –socks, jeans, and pyjamas sliding under the coffee table for retrieval by parent later. Anything associated with his obsession with Thomas the train will be proudly displayed and put to immediate use. Daddy will probably have to assemble and explain other gifts –or at the very least spend 20 minutes extricating them from the packaging. He will also lay down the rules for using them safely.

One of the little guy’s gifts this year will be a Lightning McQueen fold-down portable toilet seat small enough to fit into mommy’s bag. Since he announced last week that diapers are just fine with him, and he will not be re-considering his position on the matter until his number changes to twelve, the giver, his Grandma, does not expect effusive thanks for this one. But she knows he can make good use of it someday. She loves him and knows that growing up means learning to deal with his crap. (It’s interesting that in Christian dream interpretation bathroom dreams often symbolize confession, forgiveness and cleansing –an elementary teaching in spiritual growth.)

Some gifts God gives us are fun and some are practical. Some we have dared to ask for and some are surprises. Some gifts are powerful tools we will need in the future to do the tasks he has in mind for us to do. When we open these boxes the response can be, “What do I need with this? Oh dear, if I am going to use it I will need to change the way I do things or even the way I think. It means an increase in the level of responsibility required of me –and I don’t know that I want to put all the effort to work out the kinks.  It is easier to say, “No. I don’t need it. Things are working well for me just as they are, thank you very much.”

I was thinking also about how the God the Giver must feel when His gifts are rejected. It gives me great pleasure to look for gifts that suit each child. I do believe that our heavenly Father delights in his children and along with instruction and correction gives them wrapping paper and toy trains. If they ask for a piece of birthday cake will he give them a rock? If they ask for toast will He give them a snake?  (It’s true that bad men also offer delightful tasty treats and children need to be able to recognize that and learn to say NO! and run away from the wrong voice.)

Our older grandchildren recognize that gifts come from people who care. They don’t need to be prompted to say thank you. They may share the gift with their friends months later and say, “My Grandma and Grandpa gave me this.” Part of the reason (though certainly not all) is because we have a history of listening to them and trying to understand their personalities and encouraging potential talents. We’ve also learned that some gifts are inappropriate and some more valued the longer the wait for them, so we also withhold in love. The kids have learned, over time, to say thank you on their own.

To seek the gifts and not the Giver is immature but to seek the Giver and reject his gifts is not seeking the Giver. Imagine a young woman accepting a proposal of marriage and then rejecting a carefully chosen, custom-designed engagement ring as being unnecessary because she has faith that the young man will observe his verbal contractual obligation (which may imply she already has doubts about his ability to support a family.) Rejecting the Giver’s gifts is actually rejecting the Giver and replacing Him with a god of our own making — a task master, a disciplinarian, a judge, a distant person who does not enjoy us or derive pleasure from our pleasure – someone who is on a strict budget. How that must grieve him.

That was me for many years. I thought God only taught through tribulation and suffering and that gifts come after the finish line, when the race is done and I am dead. (Silly girl. The gift of healing, for example, is kind of useless in heaven. There are no sick people there.)

I guess I choose to say, “Thank you, Abba. You are good. Your gifts are amazing! And thank you for the potty seat, even if it means that I need to grow up and make changes in my life.”

Enter

(Click on photo for larger version)

On your feet now—applaud God!
    Bring a gift of laughter,
    sing yourselves into his presence.

 Know this: GOD [YHWH] is God, and God, GOD.
    He made us; we didn’t make him.
    We’re his people, his well-tended sheep.

 Enter with the password: “Thank you!”
    Make yourselves at home, talking praise.
    Thank him. Worship him.

 For God is sheer beauty,
    all-generous in love,
    loyal always and ever.

(Psalm 100 The Message paraphrase)

Bluer than Blue

Kootenay Lake

Bluer than Blue

The artist leading the workshop in the desert city looked at my paintings and asked, perhaps facetiously, “You use a lot of blue. Are you depressed?”

I looked around at the other participants’ work mostly done in earth tones –beiges, browns, greys –with occasional splashes of red and yellow. Desert colours.

“No,” I said, “Not anymore. I just come from a place that is mostly blue.”

When I arrived home in the Rocky Mountains of Canada a few months later, deep lavender blue skies, shifting azure-blue lakes, paler and paler layers of blue mountains and sparkling blue snow shadows seemed even bluer than the paintings.

Bluer than blue.

I come from a place that is mostly blue.

To some blue communicates serenity. To some blue communicates depression. I come from a place that was mostly depression.

A while ago I was told in a dream, “Look to the area of your greatest failure, for therein lies your greatest success.”

There was that night.

That night I bowed on a stage before a large audience jumping up to shout “Brava” and throw flowers. Most of them didn’t know that underneath a gorgeous costume I was balancing on one leg the whole time. I had broken the other one only a few days before.

Then there was that night.

That night, I cowered in a locked ward where a silhouetted person behind a flashlight peered in my room every fifteen minutes to make sure I was still alive.

That night on the stage, the night of  “my greatest success,” was actually my greatest failure. That was the night when I identified myself as a strong-willed, disciplined overcomer. That’s when I was foolish enough to think that if I just worked hard enough I could earn love, respect, and adulation.

The night on the ward, the night of  “my greatest failure,” was actually the night of my greatest success. That was the night when I admitted it took more courage to live than to die. I was fresh out of courage. That was the night when my tank hit empty, when I had no will power, no self-discipline, no hope. That was the night when grace pulled me deep down into those depths of blue and began to show me that freedom means nothing left to lose. Freedom means letting go of self-sufficiency, self-righteousness, and self-promotion. That was the night when Jesus Christ took me by the hand and lifted me up toward the light. Drowning in emptiness and being lifted up to a new life of hope was a kind of baptism.

It took a while to get on my feet. I had a lot of forgiving to do. Forgiving myself was the hardest test of wrestling pride, reputation, and the albatross of potential to the ground. I still have to remember to punch it in the beak regularly.

Blue means freedom, revelation, and serenity now. I understand better what Paul meant when he wrote:

Yet every advantage that I had gained I considered lost for Christ’s sake. Yes, and I look upon everything as loss compared with the overwhelming gain of knowing Jesus Christ my Lord. For his sake I did in actual fact suffer the loss of everything, but I considered it useless rubbish compared with being able to win Christ. For now my place is in him, and I am not dependent upon any of the self-achieved righteousness of the Law. God has given me that genuine righteousness which comes from faith in Christ. How changed are my ambitions! Now I long to know Christ and the power shown by his resurrection: now I long to share his sufferings, even to die as he died, so that I may perhaps attain as he did, the resurrection from the dead.

Yet, my brothers, I do not consider myself to have “arrived”, spiritually, nor do I consider myself already perfect. But I keep going on, grasping ever more firmly that purpose for which Christ grasped me. My brothers, I do not consider myself to have fully grasped it even now. But I do concentrate on this: I leave the past behind and with hands outstretched to whatever lies ahead I go straight for the goal—my reward the honour of being called by God in Christ.

(Philippians 3)

Only Someone who knows the plans He has for us has the courage it takes to show us how to die so that we might live.

Knowing what to leave out

Photo: Tam O’ Shanter Creek

So much of art, music, and poetry

is learning to leave spaces,

observe rests,

and reserve words.

So much of maturity

is learning to leave spaces,

observe rests,

and reserve words.

So much of faith is learning

abundance is

not needing to eat the whole feast

today.

In the Kingdom of God

there is time

to savour his goodness.

His loving kindness endures forever.

Already

Photo: Tam O’ Shanter Creek

Since then it is by faith that we are justified, let us grasp the fact that we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Through him we have confidently entered into this new relationship of grace, and here we take our stand,

in happy certainty of the glorious things he has for us in the future.

 This doesn’t mean, of course, that we have only a hope of future joys—we can be full of joy here and now even in our trials and troubles.

Taken in the right spirit these very things will give us patient endurance;

this in turn will develop a mature character, and a character of this sort produces a steady hope,

a hope that will never disappoint us.

Already we have some experience of

the love of God flooding through our hearts

by the Holy Spirit given to us.

(Romans 5:1-5)