Thursday, 3 July 2014

I don't know how to do it. I don't know how to keep laboring for my King. I don't know this magical, mystical process of putting one foot in front of the other.

Right now I know that there's a sharp pain over my right eye and my temples are beginning to throb. It's a side-effect of the pill I took to help me avoid having stressful dreams which come just about every night, a side-effect of another pill I'm taking.

Right now 95% of my material possessions are packed up in boxes and crates, ready to laugh at a team of us as we throw out our backs and curse staircases tomorrow.

Right now I wish I didn't have this week. I wish I didn't have this weekend. I wish I could get through it and I wish I was OK.

I wish I could see the Lord--and I wish I saw Him as some sort of guide in these choppy waters. 

[graphic description of a brutal prison cell]

And here I sit. I can't open the door and I can't open the door. I can't pick the lock or fool the guard and I can't get up from my cot. I'm sitting awkardly still, like I see the hunter stalking deer and I don't know how much his trigger finger itches.

I'm barely breathing; I'm still. My brain is also frozen, perplexed by the conflicting data. I feel rigid and vacant as I sit, but at the same time I'm watching my body get up and push the door open over and over.

Monday, 23 June 2014

until

STAVE TWO

THE FIRST OF THE THREE SPIRITS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WHEN Scrooge awoke, it was so dark, that looking out of bed, he could scarcely distinguish the transparent window from the opaque walls of his chamber. He was endeavouring to pierce the darkness with his ferret eyes, when the chimes of a neighbouring church struck the four quarters. So he listened for the hour.

Dickens, Charles. "A Christmas Carol." The Christmas Books Volume 1: A Christmas Carol/The Chimes. Ed. Michael Slater. London: Penguin Classics, 1985. 66. Print.

8

The Pit

-----

I CANNOT POSSIBLY DESCRIBE to you what it felt like to be standing alone in the pitchy blackness of that silent wood in the small hours of the night. The sense of loneliness was overwhelming, the silence was as deep as death, and the only sounds were the ones I made myself. I tried to keep absolutely still for as long as possible, to see if I could hear anything at all. I listened and listened. I held my breath and listened again. I had a queer feeling that the whole wood was listening with me, the trees and the bushes, the little animals hiding in the undergrowth and the birds roosting in the branches. All were listening. Even the silence was listening.

   I switched on the flashlight. A brilliant beam of light reached out ahead of me like a long white arm. That was better. Now at any rate I could see where I was going.

Dahl, Roald. Danny the Champion of the World. New York: Puffin Books, 1998. Print. (pp. 62-63)


CHAPTER 12

DEATH ON THE MOOR


  The last red streaks had faded away in the west and night had settled upon the moor. A few faint stars were gleaming in a violet sky.
  A terrible scream--a prolonged yell of horror and anguish burst out of the silence of the moor. That frightful cry turned the blood to ice in my veins.
  Blindly we ran through the gloom, blundering against boulders, forcing our way through gorse bushes, panting up hills and rushing down slopes, heading always in the direction whence those dreadful sounds had come. At every rise Holmes looked eagerly round him, but the shadows were thick upon the moor, and nothing moved upon its dreary face.
  "Can you see anything?"
  "Nothing."
  "But, hark, what is that?"
  A low moan had fallen upon our ears. There it was again upon our left! On that side a ridge of rocks ended in a sheer cliff which overlooked a stone-strewn slope. On its jagged face was spread-eagled some dark, irregular object. As we ran towards it the vague outline hardened into a definite shape. It was a prostrate man face downward upon the ground, the head doubled under him at a horrible angle, the shoulders rounded and the body hunched together as if in the act of throwing a somersault. So grotesque was the attitude that I could not for the instant realize that that moan had been the passing of his soul. Not a whisper, not a rustle, rose now from the dark figure over which we stooped. Holmes laid his hand upon him and held it up again with an exclamation of horror. The gleam of the match which he struck shone upon his clotted fingers and upon the ghastly pool which widened slowly from the crushed skull of the victim. And it shone upon us something else which turned our hearts sick and faint within us--the body of Sir Henry Baskerville!
  There was no chance of either of us forgetting that peculiar ruddy tweed suit--the very one which he had worn on the first morning that we had seen him in Baker Street. We caught the one clear glimpse of it, and then the match flickered and went out, even as the hope had gone out of our souls. Holmes groaned, and his face glimmered white through the darkness.

Doyle, Sir Arthur Conan. "The Hound of the Baskervilles." Sherlock Holmes: The complete Novels and Stories, Volume II. New York: Bantam Dell, 2003. 121-123. Print.

EXODUS


10 Then the LORD said to Moses, "Stretch out your hand toward the sky so that darkness spreads over Egypt--darkness that can be felt." So Moses stretched out his hand toward the sky, and total darkness covered all Egypt for three days. No one could see anyone else or move about for three days. Yet all the Israelites had light in the places there they lived.

The New International Version Study Bible. Ed. Kenneth L. Barker. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011. Print. (Exodus 10:21-23)

PSALMS

BOOK V

Psalms 107 - 150

              Psalm 119
                 נ Nun

Your word is a lamp for my feet,
  a light on my path.
I have taken an oath and confirmed it,
  that I will follow your righteous laws.
I have suffered much;
  preserve my life, LORD, according to your word.
Accept, LORD, the willing praise of my mouth,
  and teach me your laws.
Though I constantly take my life in my hands,
  I will not forget your law.
The wicked have set a snare for me,
  but I have not strayed from your precepts.
Your statutes are my heritage forever;
  they are the joy of my heart.
My heart is set on keeping your decrees
  to the very end.

Ibid. (Psalm 119:105-112)

JOHN


1 In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

There was a man sent from God whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.

The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God-- children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

Ibid. (John 1:1-14)

God Of This City

Words and Music by
Aaron Boyd, Richard Bleakley,
Peter Comfort, Peter Kernoghan,
Andrew McCann and Ian Jordan

You're the God of this city,
You're the King of these people,
You're the Lord of this nation,
You are.

You're the light in this darkness,
You're the hope to the hopeless,
You're the peace to the restless,
You are.

There is no one like our God.
There is no one like our God.

CCLI Song # 5037070
© 2006 sixsteps Music | worshiptogether.com songs

2 PETER


1 So I will always remind you of these things, even though you know them and are firmly established in the truth you now have. I think it is right to refresh your memory as long as I live in the tent of this body, because I know that I will soon put it aside, as our Lord Jesus Christ has made clear to me. And I will make every effort to see that after my departure you will always be able to remember these things.

For we did not follow cleverly devised stories when we told you about the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ in power, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty. He received honor and glory from God the Father when the voice came to him from the Majestic Glory, saying, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased." We ourselves heard this voice that came from heaven when we were with him on the sacred mountain.

We also have the prophetic message as something completely reliable, and you will do well to pay attention to it, as to a light shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.

The New International Version Study Bible. Ed. Kenneth L. Barker. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011. Print. (II Peter 1:12-19)

Friday, 20 June 2014

my stress level, like a cat up a tree, is being ridiculous.

Silly cat. You have no reason to be up so high. Are squirrels so interesting?

And you think I'm climbing up there again to get you? 


Guess I am.


  Silly cat.

Thursday, 12 June 2014

Like a chequebook, an opinion, or the scales.

Yesterday afternoon I stood at low point and from there could easily see all other points of that same altitude. Later I had a conversation about what it's like to live in a cursed world. Trials are a thing (cf. life). 
Some days--like yesterday--I really feel like it's all a low point. It's all cursed trials and lamenting my own existence.

[something neutral in the middle]

Then today I'm struck by how much I enjoy my job. I have one job that I love to pieces and that's far more than I would ever demand or expect from an income source. But to have a second job that is a good fit, a good challenge, a great blessing, a good opp to meet and serve people who haven't yet heard the greatest news of all time...that's too much. Today I know it's too much.

Today I realise that this is the type of solid, bill-paying job that I have been drooling over and dreaming about for years and years but never landed (because it tends to require directly applicable experience). This is that job and the Lord gave it to me in a surprising and gracious way.

More than gifting me with it, He equipped me to perform. I'm so pleased. I'm so chuffed. I'm so grateful. 

It's easy to say, "I'd be great at that," about stuff you've never tried--and people with my personality type say that often but we turn out to be too cowardly to prove it. It's so easy to be theoretically great. 

And I suppose I couldn't have known whether this would be one of those things. I could have flopped, even though I thought I had the skills, aptitude, and indirect experience to at least tread water.

It fits. It so fits and I love it. I am grateful, and, like a moral, sentient being, I should give credit where it is due. Thank You so much, Lord. You bless beautifully.

Wednesday, 11 June 2014

a vignette for two words.

vignette? (no. 5)

An uncertain hand reaches up and its knuckles meet the door three times. Step back and wait, straighten your clothes, deep breath... Before you can select your greeting the door is swung open widely. If a door could be opened without a whisper of reservation, this one was. Without a peephole, without an identity hollered through, without stated business, that door was pulled so decisively and widely that the hinges grunted as they strained to the very edges of their flexibility.

Your breath catches in your throat a little, startled. Then you naturally soften as you see the look of complete recognition on your potential host's face. (You're profoundly aware that the recognition means you aren't only seen but known. Your eyes dart quickly to the right and back, just to be sure the door wasn't actually transparent, or made of glass.) The smile makes you smile. The smile reaches you like the sun on an overcast day: there's no reason to expect the clouds to part but craftily, the sun sneaks out and your goosebumped skin gratefully soaks it up.

The wording is irrelevant, the beckoning hand is superfluous, and the moment is over so quickly you're essentially left blinking and bewildered. You step over the threshold because there's no reason not to. It's the purest invitation you've ever received. You could enter. Your presence was requested because your presence is desired. And you may stay. In fact, you're not sure you could overstay. You're here and your host is pleased.

More than pleased, your host has been expecting you. You spy your favorite kind of chair and the "offer" to sit in it sounds like it contains no space to be declined. Others in the house greet you so warmly you can't even entertain the possibility that you're in the way or that you've come at an inconvenient time. A drink is in your hand and you can see it's been no trouble to fetch.

You stay for dinner. You help with impromptu dessert. You don't hear a single inside joke and you never need an elbow to join conversation. You make the teams even for board games. You adapt easily to house rules.

Your integration is almost mystical... You thought you were a stranger a few hours ago. Now you have to keep reminding yourself you have a different home address.


Therefore, my brothers and sisters, make every effort to confirm your calling and election. For if you do these things, you will never stumble, and you will receive a rich welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
II Peter 1:10-11

Wednesday, 4 June 2014

Meditating like a Puritan.

Abstract:

stand amazed in the presence
sinner, condemned, unclean
how marvellous
my Savior
love
praise be
new birth
living hope
THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST
an inheritance
an inheritance
an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade
Though you have not seen him, you love him;
filled
  filled with an inexpressible
    inexpressible and glorious J
                                             O
                                                Y
for you are receiving...the salvation of your souls
O worship the King
gratefully sing
sing gratefully
tell of His might, sing of His grace
given us everything--
everything we need
him who called us by his own glory and goodness
very great
very precious
he has given us his very great and precious promises
through his own glory and goodness he has given us his very great and precious promises
so that...
Thank You for the way that You love us.
Thank You
Thank You
thank You
created for Your pleasure (?!)
Your presence (??!)
for the glory of Your Name (?!??!)
thank You for the way You have made us
You forgave us
faithful King
Jesus
Jesus, faithful King
grateful hearts sing
HOW GREAT IS THE LOVE
..how great.
thank You for grace that saved, forgave
freed us
ransomed,
  rescued,
    purchased with the price
Thank You
You love us.


Article:

I stand amazed in the presence of Jesus the Nazarene and wonder how He could love me, a sinner, condemned, unclean.

How marvelous, how wonderful! And my song shall ever be:
How marvelous, how wonderful is my Savior's love for me.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade.

Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled in an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving and the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

O worship the King, all glorious above and gratefully sing His wonderful love;
Our Shield and Defender, the Ancient of Days, pavilioned in splendor, and girded with praise.

O tell of His might, O sing of His grace, Whose robe is the light, Whose canopy space!
His chariots of wrath, the deep thunderclouds form and dark is His path on the wings of the storm.

His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.

Thank You for the way that You love us, how You love us.
Thank You for the way You have made us.
We were created for Your pleasure, for Your presence,
for the glory of Your Name.
Thank You for the way that You love us.

Jesus, faithful King, Lord, with grateful hearts we sing:
How great is the love, how great is the love of our Savior.
The weight of the cross, the curse of our shame,
You carried it all and rose from the grave.
How great is the love, how great is the love of our Savior.

Thank You for your grace that has saved us: You forgave us.
Thank You for the way You have freed us.
We have been ransomed, we've been rescued, we've been purchased with the price of Your own life.
Thank You for the way that You love us.


"My Savior's Love" - Charles Hutchison Gabirel; Public Domain
I Peter 1:3-4a, 8-9 (NIV)
"O Worship the King" - Johann Michael Haydn, Robert Grant, William Gardiner; Public Domain
II Peter 1:3-4 (NIV)
"How Great is the Love" - Jacob Sooter, Meredith Andrews, Paul Baloche; (c) 2009 Integrity Worship Music

Friday, 30 May 2014

centre

I thought it was so interesting, that pocket of supreme comfyness that opened midway through my MRI process.

I didn't want to do the test. (Something was making me irrationally fearful about it.) Even before I arrived I was dreading my first experience of finding my own hospital parking--and then I had the great pleasure of needing to do a parallel park in a relatively small spot. Yum.

For some reason I strongly disliked that I was there alone. The receptionist was friendly enough, I was on time, and parking was a quarter as expensive as I had anticipated. Still there was a weird rock in my stomach. I just didn't want this. I wanted to be small and away.

The waiting room was very weird. Then a tech came to get me. She explained the dressing and the lockers and then she called me into another room where we would fill out a questionnaire. 

She explained more about the tests, the machine, the experience. I found it helpful to be less in the dark and I suspect that is why techs are told to give such explanations.

Eventually I was called in by this same tech though her voice was noticably softer. Maybe my trepidation was plain on my face! Maybe everyone looks like that before their first MRI.

I lay on the weird, narrow bed. I re-positioned as directed. I was given headphones, and a panic button. Then a cage was placed over my head which I took as my cue to start breathing deeply and telling God how great and trustworthy He is.

I was relieved to be told to keep my eyes shut while in the machine. This way I had no idea how small the space was and claustrophobia couldn't find me!

I lay still throughout the thumping and the whirring. I answered affirmatively every time I was asked whether I was OK. My voice did sound small and almost childlike which made me feel silly. (Was I still scared?)

Ten minutes later they let me out and I retraced my steps to the locker, my street clothes, the waiting room, the lobby, and the parallel park with three minutes left on the meter. (Score!)

I drove home and finished my Wednesday; I forget how exactly. 




And in the middle? Probably dead in the middle of my one-hour stint at the General I nestled in soft, secure-feeling comfort. In the room where we did my questionnaire, I was left alone for five or ten minutes to wait my turn. In the fuzziest, warmest hospital garb I've ever worn, I pulled my feet up onto the big chair and sat cross-legged, feeling inexplicably cozy and peaceful. 

It was a poorly lit, cluttered, drably colored hospital "room"; the chair was old and worn; I was still alone and in control of unnervingly little. But I felt well. I felt divinely held and cuddled, if that's a thing. I believe I wiggled my toes with delight as the feeling washed over me.

It was such a thing. I was so soft and sweet and seen and protected and loved that it was like the Lord was letting me glimpse His paternal point-of-view. In retrospect, it's actually shocking that I didn't cringe or flee. I needed it then. I needed to know, and I basked

Tuesday, 20 May 2014

First day back in the office and it's weird. Only one of my coworkers is about. Even the two who are only on for the summer have been raptured away. Two open, lighted offices with backpacks, open laptops, and half-drunk coffees. Why did I expect something more triumphant?? Ha. I wanted this place to be humming when I returned so I would need a running start in order to jump on in. Ah, well. I think I can handle a slower start.

I also think I miss singing. I don't know what's happened but I haven't done it in weeks and it's starting to weigh on me.

Every time I go away--particularly when I visit art galleries and museums (culturriffic things)--I generally come back inspired. I get a ravaging case of the I Could do That!s. I feel a surge. I feel my Gaston-sized lungs inflate and I decide, YES: I will do more. I will do good. I will do better.

Then you emerge from Pearson Airport and the grey industrial area filled with jaded or rude Torontonians somehow doesn't charge you up the same way.

However today, on this fake Monday, I'm still feeling somewhat ambitious. Today can be a good day or a first day or a decisive day. I don't want to say too much just now or I'll start cranking out to-do lists that will soon have me gasping for air. Let's let today be straightforward. But--eyes up, options open, and Spirit-led.

On we go.

Wednesday, 14 May 2014

This is one of those surreal slices of a life.

Or it's a surreal moment. Or a collection of moments.

My iPhone thinks it's 8.07am but everyone in my immediate vacinity thinks it's just past 1pm. They're all right. I'm in a coffee shop within Terminal 3 of Heathrow Airport in London, England. Surreal, it feels, now.

What's surreal is that I'm really here [after all the planning and preparing]
What's surreal is that it feels like home and feels like the five years I've been away are nothing
What's surreal (on a smaller scale) is that I AM GETTING ALONE TIME [oh, thank You, Lord]
What's surreal is feeling less like the non- and actually like one of many [The UK, particularly England, and most certainly London are at least ten or fifteen years ahead of Canada in integrating different nationalities and complexions]
--I can't describe how nice it is to blend once in a while.

Sigh.

I feel worshipful. God is so good. I could have died on that plane. I may die before I publish this post. But He's so good.

This trip just may be even better than I thought. I'm chuffed and honored to be here for the bride and I do love this land but now that I'm getting time to breathe (and I'll have four more hours alone) I feel I can do it all. Loads of people time and small talk and new faces and whereabouts-in-Canada, no-I-don't know-Michael-from-Vancouver, and an amplification of a heart that's DYING to know where it belongs...

YOGMO, we've coined. YOGMO. You Only Get Married Once.

And if the Lord will help me make this a vacation, if I return to Canada a healthier woman, I'll be ever grateful.


That said, as I headed to the UK/EU Passports queue that was one quarter the length of the International Passports one, I deeply wondered, what is this red passport good for? What unique doors are you opening for me [read: for Kingdom work], Lord? On the plane I had been reading about a missionary who was so deliciously gifted for his work with Mission Aviation Fellowship, that his contributions revolutionised jungle missions. I liked how what simply made sense to him, what he was so naturally drawn to, was how he found his fit-like-a-glove calling. He wrote, regarding his being drawn to the field:

"I pleaded helplessly with my Heavenly Father for the answer that stood between me and the peace that Jesus said should be ours. Now, you've heard about people being spoken to by God. I don't know about the other fellow, but that night I saw things differently . . . BING . . . like that. Just as though a different Kodachrome slide had been tossed onto the screen between my ears. A joy, such as I had never known since the night I accepted Jesus' forgiveness for my sins, seemed to leave me almost weak with gratitude. It was the first time that I had ever really heard that verse: 'Follow me, and I will make you to become fishers of men.' The old life of chasing things that are of a temporal sort seemed absolutely insane."

I want that. I want the BING, the Kodachrome slide, the weakness from gratitude, and the proper view of insanity.


This is the main reason I find vacations so difficult. Who wants to be found sunbathing when the Lord returns??

Alas. I'm praying that rest will work out. Also, YOGMO.

Tuesday, 6 May 2014

The problem with my job...

...is that it makes it very hard to go very long without being amazed by the Lord. My job has me mired in worship songs and Scripture passages, prayers and trying to think about how to serve others better/help them serve Him better. Rough gig.


I'm just trying to put a set of slides together and the Lord sees fit to ambush me via the second chapter of Hebrews. Here:

"Since the children have flesh and blood, [Jesus] too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death--that is, the devil-- and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death." (14-15)


As I read the text, formatting the font and spacing, I literally shook my head in something like disbelief. Maybe we should say I was incredulous.

I just can't get it. The Lord seems too good to be true. But He's the only one that IS true!

  Jesus, by His death, broke the power of the devil--of the power of death.

  Jesus freed those whose lives were held in slavery--enslaved by their fear of death. He freed them from the grips of death. He did that. He did it. He did it. It is finished.


I can't imagine it. I can't enfold it. I can't encompass it. I can't get it. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

He really did it.



Moments like this remind me of how important it is for me to learn the Word well. I want to find cause for explosive worship on every page. I know it's there; I just haven't dug it up yet.

Sigh.

Selah

Thursday, 1 May 2014

Well... if I can't sing...

Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw them blur past my window. Then I listened for their voices in the hallway. It was them. 

My heart sank a little because I couldn't go out to them and I didn't hear them coming toward me. Unable to process the jot notes on first draft of the intro paragraph to the possibility that they--the boys--have forgotten me, I turn decisively back to my work.

For not the first time I find my hands are typing what they should and "work" appears to be getting done but my mind is becoming more and more engrossed in reconciling how things once were and how they now are (or, are not).

Soon I realise I'm not breathing. It happens two or three times and it's happened before. I'm trying maybe to be so still that my big emotions, like a famished T-rex, won't spot me.


Minutes later a friend comes in and I am grateful for the attention-taker and for an activity (conversation) which obligates me to inhale periodically. 


Then, while we're chatting, one blur goes by my office door. I look after it, hopefully. Ungratified I dive hard back into conversation. I want to choose to be an adult and able to handle sadness and loss better. I feel resolved. 


A moment later, blue eyes, ruddy cheeks, and a giggley grin appear on my threshhold. Attention diverted. 

I question him deep into Shy Grin Squirmdom until he asks to play on my phone. Well, of course, of course, of course! No limits, no caveats, no deliberation. Take my phone. Yes, you can move my bag off that chair. Yes, take a seat. Carry on in cuteness

My heart un-sinks more than a little. 


My friend and I continue talking. Nearer the end of our conversation, some other blue eyes expressing a brain set on Explore mode wander in. (I love that they wander right in... Always welcome.)

No pushing to Squirmdom for this one; I know better. He has my attention and my warmth. I let him poke around my office until a question bubbles up. Meanwhile, my friend departs. 


I wonder how long the moment will last. They're both happily occupied and just as I turn back to my work (the only way I can keep from smothering them, leaping across the room and aggressively enfolding them) it's time for them to go. 


It's OK. We had our nanoseconds. It seems a few strands of relationship and familiarity remain. I almost wish you were older so I could tell you. I hope for more. I love you both. 

Sunday, 20 April 2014

Just as He said.

On the 31st of March I developed a severe headache around noon. It is throbbing as I type.

My health these past three weeks has cost me an unexpected $170 and kept me from much of my normal activity, including (deep) thinking and (good) sleep. 

But I don't even care.

Today is the most magnificent day. 

I have been so excited about Easter. I have been so looking forward to celebrating Easter with my family. And today we did. This morning we sang and shouted and clapped because of how good the Lord is and how perfect and powerful and needed the Resurrection is.

Oh. So good.

The sermon delicately and beautifully opened the Great Commission like a time-lapsed bloom. I saw Jesus in a way I haven't before. 

Three believers were baptised. It stirred my heart to witness my brothers and sister in the Lord make a public declaration of their allegiance to Christ and of their putting their whole faith in Him. Staking their whole life on Him. Just mesmerising. So glorious. I felt privileged to be present. 

What more can I say? What can I add? How much fun we had as a music team? How much fun it is to do good work and to work hard as a music team? How liberating and expressive it was to dress up because today is the specialest of all special occasions?

Even the fellowship before and after service, good friends and new friends. We smile big because He is risen indeed. I should write more later but I think there's still a lot of day yet to live.

Friday, 18 April 2014

May I?

Today is the day to give thanks for freedom--freedom from sin--from death--freedom to live in Christ--freedom to live for Christ--freedom complete.

Freedom complete--

Freedom should be a good thing---.


I can't believe the Atonement worked. 
I can't believe it's finished.
(O the bliss of this glorious thought!)


And today is a day to be thankful for forgiveness. Thankful for forgiveness. Thank-filled for forgiveness. 

Forgiven so that I even have eyes to see that forgiveness is something for which to be thankful. Forgiven so that my lungs inflate for the first time. 

I'm forgiven! How is that??!


Today is also a great day to give thanks for mercy which is renewed each time the sun crests our horizon. New, new, new. 

Mercy makes me able. Mercy makes a way. Mercy gives me the go. (Or the keep going.) Mercy is good. So rich!


And love. How does love go? Can I show my gratitude? Can I step inside and shout my thanks? Could I knock politely and gesture wildly? (Behold! What manner...!)


One day.
One day!


I started this post last night for a different occassion. This may be the first time I was glad I fell asleep and had to post the following (very Good) day.

Wednesday, 16 April 2014

I wish I could blog more but my head hurts.

Every now and then we still go on Princess Dates.

Now they're warmer, cosier, more intimately relaxed. It's less that I'm being dragged and spend the whole time tugging at puffy sleeves and refusing to sip pinky-up. Maybe we're OK. Maybe things are calmer.

How are we doing? How's my worship? What are You like, Lord?

Thursday, 3 April 2014

Mathematics Fun with newly elected Snail President

[Disclaimer: Vagueness is for privacy, not for scaring. I'm fine.]

Since Monday:

three doctors 

two needles (one injection, one withdrawl)

two prescriptions

two ER visits

three calls to Telehealth Ontario

three knights in shining armor (read: friends)

a million cubes of ice 

ten electrodes

one (mild) diagnosis

one persistent weird-non-agnosis

three nights of elusive sleep

prayers like a persistent widow

+

something greater than the temple


perfect rest