tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390750682062210192024-03-13T21:47:04.508-07:00Everyday LightFinding the Light that overcomes darkness. May my writing encourage your heart. DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comBlogger143125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-11783008861607561902016-03-01T18:10:00.001-08:002016-03-04T16:20:42.320-08:00You will be missed<br />
DJ, the author of Everyday Light, tragically died by suicide in December 2015. She suffered from chronic depression and our hearts are broken that this terrible illness took her from us.<br />
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She was creative, enthusiastic, loving, witty, and empathetic; she shared many of her life's experiences, new ideas, and spiritual values through expressive writing. Her contributions will be remembered dearly.DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-70040669044984786852015-12-21T17:12:00.002-08:002016-03-04T16:18:41.499-08:00Same Old, Same Old WOW!<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The worn-out story of Christmas is told again this week, acted out in ridiculous and charming children’s pageants, or solemnly revered at artistic crèches by priests with incense wafting. Our familiarity can blind us to any connection with modern life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">At the same time, thousands ignore or scorn what they consider a fairy tale for naïve adults, the equivalent of Santa Claus with his flying reindeer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It’s challenging to see beyond our culture’s conflation of consumerism with its strangely seasonal compassion for the poor. Is Christ's birth worth celebrating?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">In fact, the old bible story has contemporary spiritual themes: </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">our yearning for positive change, our perpetual struggle against destructive egotism, and our battle between fear and hope. The characters in the nativity drama, like other ordinary people in bible stories, show us our human options.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Mary, for instance, was shocked by her private situation, an unwed pregnancy in a patriarchal tribe. Somehow she decided to stand firm and trust her own encounter with God’s outrageous promises.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Joseph was confused and embarrassed by his fiancee’s circumstance. Despite his social conditioning, he, too, went with God’s counter-cultural advice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sheep herders on the night shift were changed from nobodies to insiders when they heard gob-smacking news about a nearby miracle. Instead of pooh-poohing their wild vision of angels shouting, “Don’t be afraid anymore. God has a peace plan!” they ran off to see if it was true.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Foreign scholars were wise enough to be humble in their pursuit of knowledge and eventually discovered the unimaginable. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Lacking such wisdom or humility, King Herod in his corrupting robes of power, gave in to ego’s lure. Hundreds of babies were murdered because of his raging tantrum. He gained nothing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Anna and Simeon waited for decades, longing for a dream to come true; would their world ever be delivered from oppression? They refused to give up on God.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Common, but always miraculous, a newborn baby lay in naked vulnerability. Did Eternal Love in fact risk everything for brand new possibilities?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">These characters made their choices as we keep making ours. In disaster, or ease, or tedium, may we hear, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Don’t be afraid. There’s great news! You’re not in this alone.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Welcome to Christmas, dear Reader.</span></div>
DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-11214231252948375122015-12-14T12:37:00.004-08:002016-03-04T16:20:57.594-08:00You Are<div style="line-height: normal;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">…in the winsome sound of a men’s choir singing with utter precision the pensive Christmas song, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Mary, Did You Know?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">…in the servant attitude of a teenager willing to travel between towns to wash windows and put up a Christmas tree for his older relatives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">…in the fierce confidence of a little girl who’s going to be a tiger for the church’s Christmas pageant.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">...in the empathy of a worker at the deli counter, her slow pace keeping me waiting until she handed me sliced corned beef with a friendly smile and complimented my jacket. I walked away and then did a u-turn to thank her for her cheerfulness. When I told her about my husband’s illness, saying that her attitude had lifted my spirits, she frowned with concern and cooed hope for us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">…in the rescuing initiative of neighbours who united to sponsor a family of war refugees for immigration to Canada. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">…in the reassuring welcome of an easy-going radiation tech who greets cancer patients with a grin.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">…in the vulnerability of a rough-looking beggar who approached our group for money outside a downtown restaurant where we had enjoyed salmon and <i>crème caramel </i>at our annual Christmas dinner. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">…in the generous spirit of an atheist friend who chose a Christmas card for me that sparkles in huge red and green letters, “GOD IS GOOD”. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Please, High Holy Mystery of Love, help us to recognize where You are in our messed up world.</span></div>
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-49454486086562902732015-12-08T15:28:00.000-08:002016-03-04T16:21:05.700-08:00Careful Editing<div style="line-height: normal;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">( Dear friends who subscribe to my blog by email, please note that it’s a prettier read if you go to my blogsite instead of your inbox. One day I will switch to a better method of access.)</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Writers all struggle with the editing process, even if their only editor is themselves. What should I put out there to readers and what needs deleting?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">For instance, it seems nervy to describe in public my own grief and confusion during my husband’s brain cancer illness, when our story pales beside others far worse. Mid-Eastern refugees are living in unsanitary tent cities. Those mothers hold their sick babies close while fathers guard the family's worldly possessions in a bundle about the size of my garbage can.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our family's current challenge is nothing compared to theirs. The stress</span><span style="font-family: "\22 arial\22 " , "\22 helvetica\22 " , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> of facing a medical team who rattle off incomprehensible jargon and hand over wads of instructions while leaving the exam room does not equal the terror of f</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">acing armed soldiers who bar a border crossing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Edit carefully.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't want readers distracted by my words of self-doubt such as above, or to feel they need to respond with advice, to save me somehow from any negativity. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But I firmly believe that mixed feelings about life are natural and healthy. Writers from King David through to Ann Lamott have described the seesaw between glory and gloom. Devout followers of Jesus remember that Jesus himself felt abandoned by God. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ideally, we consciously choose what to do with our emotions. Like many, I sometimes decide to write them out, not just in a private journal but in public. It’s a sacred wonder that my personal stories occasionally encourage others. What an honour!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I hope readers give at least equal attention to my joy in the ongoing sparks that can illuminate a dim day with bright delight.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Here are some recent shiny moments.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">One neighbour bought a grocery item we needed, saving me an extra hair-raising drive through Toronto’s traffic. Another took my wristwatch to have a new battery installed, shortening my list of tiresome tasks. Of course these are errands I <i>could</i> have done for myself, but my days are newly tiring so a neighbour’s favour helps keep me functioning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Women at church sent my husband and myself each a cozy “prayer shawl”, hand-knit with love. Wrapped in the woolly warmth we feel God’s consolation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Last week, my husband enjoyed two nights beside Lake Ontario at a corner-windowed hotel room, upgraded by a sympathetic manager. He needed a day away to regroup, and found the 36 hours calming and inspiring. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">He reminded me that hotel rooms are more comfortable than convents. :-))</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">While he was away, I spent the day following my inclinations, one hour walking an outdoor labyrinth while listening for <i>Sophia*</i>, another hour happily buying gifts at a beautiful Nature store, and several hours reading. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Recently we had fun taking grandchildren to see the animated Christmas window displays that include a charming underfloor mouse-house. We ate a one-star meal at a deli where we played our family's traditional “Pass the sugar packet” waiting game, and smiled at a six year old’s refusal to order a hotdog because the Children's Menu described it as “beef”, an idea that was confusing and off-putting to her. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">At a Christmas coffee party with new church friends</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I received lots of lingering hugs and enjoyed seeing the elaborate Christmas decorations in the host’s gorgeous home. My aesthetic sense appreciated the break from hospital waiting rooms.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A member of my husband’s book club brought us an unusual present, a Ganesha mask. This friend thought of us because the Hindu god is known for help during difficulty. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I wish I could divide up all my resources and supportive relationships to share them out with the thousands </span><span style="font-family: "\22 arial\22 " , "\22 helvetica\22 " , sans-serif; font-size: large;">in Lebanon or in Toronto hospitals </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">who lack such riches. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I will do what I can to help, pray to accept life’s confusing fusion, and keep on celebrating. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thanks be to God.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">* <i>“Sophia” is an English version of the name that means wisdom. Wisdom is personified in the Bible book, Proverbs, Chapter 8, so some of us use it as one of many names for God.</i></span></div>
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-2886989998434391932015-11-24T06:18:00.001-08:002015-11-24T07:13:56.383-08:00Off Balance<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This is the weirdest experience. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Maybe a sorcerer transported me. Maybe I’ve been cast in the TV show “Once Upon a Time” where characters travel back and forth between their fairy tale lives (Snow White, Peter Pan, etc.) and modern reality.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the past, if I heard that someone’s husband had been diagnosed with brain cancer, or was in some other dreadful crisis, I’d feel sick for them and wonder how they could function at all. Wouldn’t they be on the floor raving with pain or fear?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I’d eye grieving spouses at funerals, chatting with guests, appearing “clothed and in their right mind,”</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">*</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> and think,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“You must be part of an entirely different species. I could never cope the way you are coping.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now, here am I, down the rabbit hole. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Even our considerate and careful surgeon referred to the pathology reports with the comment, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“It doesn’t get much worse than this.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But who can believe such news? How can we imagine that death may actually be approaching much sooner than expected? Or that disability might increase to unbearable degrees? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So far our lives continue normally…but not.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As I monitor pill-taking and chauffeur my cheerful husband who always preferred the driver’s seat, I feel disoriented. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Last Sunday I went to church and spoke calmly to friends about our new situation. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I laughed at the jokes in a discussion group.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But my dear neighbour looks so serious as she hugs me after hearing the news. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Why are people bringing us generous surprises of home made meals? </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I’m not sick – and then suddenly, tears of stress well up. I am sustained by such kind comfort food.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yes, I hauled the snow tires to the mechanic’s for the first time - no problem - but then, when I dropped them off, I didn’t know the answers to questions he asked. Seasonal tire-change hadn’t been my job.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Who’s supervising our money? My almost fine CFO husband who’s always been a controlling comptroller of our family finances? Money-know-nothing me? Newly designated helpers? I’ve never found group assignments easy. This is so confusing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A word that comes to mind is “liminal”. Besides liking the word’s texture in my mouth, its meaning </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">feels familiar:</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> in between, like having one foot on either side of a threshold. Am I in or am I out? Neither and both.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Most of us are in between in some sense, never quite there, but on the way. Waiting and uncertainty are the norm in liminal-land.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Of course this is exactly where Christian faith takes us whether we like it or not (NOT). God’s ideal for a healed and peaceful humanity burgeoned in Jesus, but how can this miserable world be governed by a loving God?! Look around at the crowds of wounded souls, bleeding out despair or revenge, some wreaking havoc in their pain. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The preachers say that God’s peaceable kingdom is “now and not-yet”. Such nonsensical but precisely accurate description can make you feel like tearing your hair out. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And yet, compassion and beauty abound even during brain cancer. Why is there peace and gratitude in my frustrated, scaredy heart? Only God knows.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">*<i>An expression from Luke 8:35, used casually by my fundamentalist parents whose primary literary reference was the Bible.</i></span></div>
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-46397479772094411312015-11-18T19:23:00.003-08:002016-03-04T16:21:22.273-08:00The Beat Goes On<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thank goodness for funny moments.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I suggested to my husband that, as we waited another day for news about his brain illness, we listen to a significant CD together. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">He thought he’d lie down on the couch to hear it. It is a very touching CD by Steve Bell, with music and thoughtful words about dark times. Soon after the album began, as I was grabbing kleenex to wipe my tears, I heard my husband snoring, fast asleep. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ha!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Off to bed he went for a nap while I continued to hear the CD’s wise comfort. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A few years ago this Canadian musician put out the album called “Solace”, at the suggestion of a dying friend. The music CD comes with a second CD of Steve’s radio interview with several people. They discuss the difficult issue of Christian belief in an all-loving God who allows suffering. Obviously this conundrum has been a puzzle for the ages and comes without any solution, no matter how much faith we have.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">During the show, besides a chat with my nephew Dr. John Stackhouse about his helpful book, <span style="text-decoration: underline;">Can God Be Trusted?</span>, Steve also talked with Lydia Harms. Years ago she was widowed and left to raise four young children by herself. As a long time devout follower of Jesus, she was furious with the way God had let her down by allowing her husband to die so young. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Not being a shrinking violet she responded aloud to some of the mindless comments people made in their awkward attempts to be polite or helpful during her grieving. One poor man at the funeral wished her, “All the best”. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“All the <i>best</i>?!” she responded, “I just <i>buried</i> it!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I think she refrained from actually hitting him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I need no lesson about raging at God. S/He and I are long comfortable with that kind of honest relationship; God’s love has proved unconditional. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">What I found interesting was Lydia Harms’ admission that her fury at life’s injustice and at God’s mysterious silence in response, still erupts from time to time, even many years after her husband’s death. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Her mixed and even paradoxical experience of celebrating God’s goodness one minute and feeling angry hopelessness the next, mirrors my own. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As I wander through the new set of circumstances foisted on me recently, I might sound to others like either a determined spiritual pilgrim, in my gratitude for God’s faithfulness, or like an expert at distraction (three cheers for Netflix), or like a loser Christian who doesn’t really believe any of the bible’s Easter story when things get rough. And yup, that’s exactly what I am, all three of those. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am not ashamed of this admission. Only if God is truly greater than our weakest weakness, is there any point to Christian faith.</span></div>
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-54776225670573158882015-11-16T05:01:00.000-08:002016-03-04T16:21:30.651-08:00Sweet Storm<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Soup, muffins, candy, banana bread, chili, lemon pie, salads, strawberries and more soup. The way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As my family and I wait in limbo, one minute laughing at TV comedy, the next crying in a neighbour’s tight hug, my heart needs all the comfort it can get.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have done nothing to deserve the gifts that keep arriving during the onslaught of my husband’s brain cancer </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">(Shh, don’t tell the surgeons. We’ve already guessed the truth that they won’t mention before test results confirm).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sometimes I wail with fear at this unfair disaster storming in on my family. Other times I tear up at people’s kindness and generosity. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our neighbours cleaned out our eavestroughs and carried the leaf debris to the ditch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A church acquaintance dropped by with baking and the kind of perfect empathy that only her own painful experience could offer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Encouraging emails greet me when I click open my inbox, every single one an injection of optimism, to counter my default perspective on life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A longtime friend of mine repaired a seam on my favourite sweater as my mind buzzed, “Will I need it for a funeral outfit? Will it be cozy in cancer treatment waiting rooms?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Others have sent gorgeous flowers and an amaryllis bulb sprouting toward red blooms.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">One of our daughter’s friends added insulation to an attic corner so that my husband wouldn’t worry about that item on his to-do list.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A loving relative mailed us a magazine from The Gideons, its glossy pages filled with quotes from the Psalms and peaceful photographs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The list is so long it’s bound to be incomplete.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Visits and phone calls and concert tickets …</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It’s hard to ignore a little demon that keeps hissing in my ear,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“But what did you do for <i>them</i> in <i>their</i> hard times? They’re being so much nicer, behaving so much better than <i>you</i> ever have.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm tempted to feel ashamed of myself and embarrassed by all of this sweet attention.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thanks be to God that such destructive thoughts disappear under the flood of lovingkindness provoked by this unwelcome storm. I have earned none of this caring support. I guess it’s called grace.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Bono’s best song, “GRACE”: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IsFRQoYVzHc">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IsFRQoYVzHc</a> </span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sorry but you’ll need to copy and paste until one of you shows me how to enter a live link ;-) and furthermore, this song starts with a long instrumental intro, so be patient waiting for the exquisite lyrics.</span></i></div>
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-18411104227893475662015-11-10T14:26:00.002-08:002016-03-04T16:21:37.998-08:00We Are Not Amused<div style="color: #232323; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">How did I get on this ride? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I didn’t buy a ticket, or get in line. I’m not even tall enough to qualify. Someone made a huge mistake. I’m not at all sure the seat belt and roll bar will keep me from getting hurt. It’s going too fast. I hate this swooping feeling in my stomach.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">LET ME OFF!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Three weeks ago we were floating along as usual in our peaceful retirement years.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Today, with gritted teeth, I pulled free two large bandages from my husband’s scalp, cutting any hairs that stuck to the adhesive edges. Good job I have a degree in nursing - not.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Underneath was a six inch long curve of bumpy skin puckered by a row of staples that held his skull together. Frankenstein monster’s incision is behind his left temple. Bits of dried blood and antiseptic lotion remain. Showers aren’t allowed yet. Gross.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This is his first day home after brain surgery to remove as much as possible of an anomalous growth that had suddenly affected his speech. Ever ridden in an ambulance? First time I’ve dialled 911.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The tissue has gone off to a lab somewhere where someone will test it and do their best to report specific information to the surgeons. There is also a fourth (fifth? sixth?) MRI test being read and analysed by someone else somewhere else. Don’t ask me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">No one knows the diagnosis yet, let alone the prognosis. Three weeks ago we were whisked willy-nilly to these monstrous carnival grounds where nothing makes sense, and dragged onto a nasty midway ride controlled by complete strangers. Each healthcare carny politely tries to answer our stunned questions but the answers conflict and one worker is soon replaced by a new face on duty.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Who’s the manager here? What’s going on?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hang on, my friend, just wait and see.</span></div>
DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-40426384055038427492015-10-11T09:51:00.003-07:002015-10-11T19:09:49.264-07:00Sumach Thanksgiving<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In an autumn meadow, sumach saplings crowd together, their thin stalks fuzzed like adolescent antlers. The young shrubs sprout horizontal branches, each bearing two rows of delicate oval leaves. L</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">ike pennants, varicoloured in lime green and olive with sunset streaks of orange and violet, the leaves hang</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">in opposed symmetry.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Older sumachs above stretch longer limbs draped with wine-red flags.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Creative artistry and all sciences fuse here. Think fractals, solar system, architecture and synthesis. Think...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The wild field’s treasure includes tiny yellow snapdragons and miniature white daisies. Here and there, unmown clover plants have spread into fountains, each stem capped with a purple busby. Khaki grasses stand toe to toe by the thousands. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Rustling trees swaying high against the grey sky, play a soundtrack for</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> October's sensory feast.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Look closely.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Not one petal or leaf is perfect, flawfree; there is brokenness and scarring all round. Indeed, Nature is preparing her annual graveyard.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But oh, the irresistible beauty. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"The Spirit of God</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Is a life that bestows life,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Root of world-tree</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And wind in its boughs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Scrubbing out sin</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">She rubs oil into wounds.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">She is glistening life</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Alluring all praise,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">All-awakening,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">All-resurrecting."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(</span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hildegard of Bingen)</i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Blessed Thanksgiving Day to All!</span><br />
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-72768535413007859162015-09-23T06:55:00.002-07:002015-09-23T06:57:58.559-07:00Hidden Majesty <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Once upon a time, behind an ordinary house in an ordinary neighbourhood, there appeared an art installation of gasping wonder. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">High above an old wooden deck the piece spanned a metre of thin air. It was anchored by invisible guy wires attached to the leafy branches of a so-called “junk” Manitoba Maple tree. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The exquisite weaving glistened silver in the morning light. Its complexity was dazzling. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Fine threads formed a delicate hexagonal plane that slowly undulated in the soft breeze. Dewy moisture lit each strand in hope that humanity might notice Nature’s impossible design. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Two lucky people stood beneath, heads tipped back, eyes startled wide, hearts burning within them. An hour later evaporation made the wild, wet web disappear. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>You are worthy, our God,</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>to receive glory and honor and power,</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>for you created all things,</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>and by your will they exist.</i></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> " </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Psalm 104</span><br />
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-66884530429904619592015-09-02T11:47:00.005-07:002015-09-02T18:11:35.501-07:00Charlotte Strikes Again<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Between my house and my neighbour’s there is only a narrow walkway. Every time I carry my gardening tools from the garage along this short route to the backyard, I get “pranked”. Apparently the small gap between buildings is an ideal span for stringing up a bug-trapping web; every single time, a cobweb catches me in the face. I frantically brush away the sticky gauze, hoping that the spider itself isn’t now lodged in my hair or clothing. It’s an unwelcome surprise but it always makes me laugh at myself. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Oh Charlotte, you got me again.” </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My perception of spiders changed after reading the touching children’s story, <span style="text-decoration: underline;">Charlotte’s Web</span>. Since then I have looked at spiders fondly, even as I occasionally dispatch an unwelcome one in my basement. Sometimes my inner Buddhist can’t be bothered releasing anthropoid intruders outdoors. These spider mothers reproduce too prolifically to qualify as house pets.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the story, a spider named Charlotte is a wise advisor and faithful coach for Wilbur, the doomed pig who shares her barn. She encourages him by spinning legible compliments like “Some Pig”, “Terrific”, “Radiant” and, finally, ”Humble”.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">When her dying time nears, she teaches him that all life is bound to a cycle of birth and death. He must soon say goodbye to his beloved friend. Sob. The bittersweet story ends with Charlotte’s many babies newly born as spider friends for Wilbur.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Like Charlotte, my husband and I are well into our senior years; we need wisdom and encouragement for facing this stage of multiplying changes. We’re reading aloud an excellent book by Lewis Richmond, speaking of Buddhists, <span style="text-decoration: underline;">Aging as a Spiritual Practice.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the same tone as the bible takes in its remarkable third chapter of the book called "Proverbs", Richmond reminds us that though we cannot control the changes life brings, we can rest in the fact that we are deeply and reliably loved. Although he is a self-proclaimed atheist he heard "someone" in his mind assuring him of this eternal truth.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">If we can hang on through his described “lightening strikes”, learn to “accept” our current reality, and make the necessary “adaptations,” we can win through to the peaceful and positive stage of “appreciation”. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Christianity aligns here. As one church minister emphasized, it was neither Christ’s good works of justice and mercy nor his resurrection that best epitomized what God is like. When Jesus willingly surrendered to an agonizing execution, God's glory (<i>essential nature</i>) blazed the brightest. In his refusal to fight hatred with force, he showed God's limitless love for humanity. Even while asserting, "Don't you understand that I could have asked my Father to send armies of angels for help?" Jesus accepted God’s upside-down, counter-cultural way. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Life's changes are part of a vast wind that cleans and refreshes. We can trust God that every loss is followed by new life, just down the way.</span><br />
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-36888181882617570052015-07-28T12:43:00.000-07:002015-07-28T16:18:44.016-07:00Sparkles<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The grocery store aisle ahead was blocked by a disabled woman whose spine bent so far over her shopping cart that I could barely see the back of her wigged brown head. I reminded myself to be patient and soon was able to ease past, feeling the merest flicker of compassion as I carried on. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">After checkout, I was forced to pause again, this time by a large man and his cart of bottled water in front of me. He had a face and head that looked kind of like a bowling ball covered in whiskers; he was missing a front tooth. Not my kind of person. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I saw his attention drawn to the same woman now at a counter where she was about to pack her grocery bags despite her contorted posture. He edged closer and with a strong accent asked, “You want some help?” She accepted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In passing, I tapped his arm gingerly and said “Good for you” as I hustled to the exit.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sometimes we get a second try. Driving out of the parking lot I noticed him standing near his car. Since there was no traffic behind me, I lowered the passenger window and stopped to call, “You’re a good man!” A smile enhanced his homely face. He replied, “And you are good to say that.” Light all round.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now that the scaffolding had been removed, I could see the renovated sign on a local Bloor St. hangout called “The Crooked Cue”. I stopped on the sidewalk across the street to figure out why the construction had taken so long. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In bright white letters I read the same old name with the addition of “Patio, Pool, Food”. Through their new second-floor wall of windows I could see sun umbrellas lit from above by daylight. My little peabrain wondered for a second,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“What? They’ve added a swimming pool?”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In front of our neighbourhood’s Roman Catholic church I noticed a woman looking lost. I asked if I could help and she gestured to the huge building, “I wanted to go in and pray but the construction workers inside are playing such loud music.” I murmured sympathy and suggested another neighbourhood church but we agreed that finding any quiet place is a challenge. She said she would sit on the church steps to pray. Although we didn't even introduce ourselves, I was cheered to meet a fellow praying pilgrim.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Nearing the bakery I noticed a delivery truck at its back door and a couple of rough-looking guys unloading. By the time I parked and entered, one of them, white-haired and beer-bellied (<i>oops, sounds too familiar</i>) with a scruffy beard, had reached the top of the basement stairs just inside the door. We both hesitated politely until he gestured for me to go ahead. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">By coincidence, a</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> few minutes later I was leaving the store at the very time the same man was re-entering. This time he held the door open for me. I walked through laughing and said, “I guess we’re destined to dance together today”. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I hooted when I heard from behind me, “You betcha, Babe!” Made my day.</span><br />
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-76642642728337901172015-07-20T10:24:00.002-07:002015-07-20T17:41:52.953-07:00Home Again, Home Again<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Every time my dad pulled the family car into our driveway, he quoted, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Home again, home again, jiggedy jig”. Later I discovered the nursery rhyme source, but to me the phrase was our family tradition for marking the end of a trip.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Recently, I gained new appreciation for the significance of coming home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> According to personality tests, I am an introvert. Although I’m loud at parties, and the first kid with my hand up in any class, I need to balance social interaction with plenty of time alone. When this summer's calendar </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">held two non-stop weeks of being with relatives and meeting strangers, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I knew I was heading for trouble. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Both events were welcome, one week with my three daughters and their families, and a second week in Austin, Texas with relatives and other guests at my great-niece's wedding. However, h</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">ad the choice been mine, I would not have scheduled such visits back to back.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">During the preceding weeks I asked God to give me patient stamina and unselfish love. I had little faith that I could sail peacefully through the tiring, though valued, interactions, and required group activities, along with the added buzzing of seven dear children who ranged in age from 2 to 11. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Help me, please!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sure enough, the fortnight was draining. I slept, or rather tried to sleep, in guest rooms and motels, nursing an attack-cold all the while. Up and down subway stairs, through tedious airports and during long highway drives, I kept smiling (there are photos) and doing the next thing expected of me. Fatigue increased as I tried to be a good mom and grandmother, a sweet aunt and sister.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“God, please keep my tongue from saying anything critical or cranky.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As usual, my faithful husband was the one who suffered my private complaints. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">There was no miracle of calm inner seas, but I found surprizing endurance and enjoyed good conversations that deepened relationships. It was a pleasure to watch family and friends have fun together as I dragged myself around in the heat, ready with cough drops and tissues.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Besides illness and fatigue, a third companion on the marathon was my longing for home. I confess that my favourite place on earth is my bed on Humbervale Boulevard. Denied it for two whole weeks (and not on retreat at a hushed convent), I felt like I was only half alive. I staggered from the overload of noise, activity and strong emotions, not alone enough to regain stability. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">God did give me one quiet break,</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> just long enough to catch a second wind. On our first morning in Austin, my husband shook me awake at the motel saying,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> “It’s 8:30. Are you coming for breakfast?” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Nothing excites him like a free breakfast, no matter its quality. I groaned and stayed in bed until he returned with a sheepish apology, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Oops, I forgot the time change. It was only 7:30.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As a morning person I was, by then, fully awake and talked him into going immediately to a local labyrinth I’d seen on-line. After that we’d head to Starbucks for real coffee. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The meditative walk along a labyrinth’s looping path often calms my spirit and helps align my thoughts to God’s better perspective. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We soon found ourselves, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">early enough for the breeze to be cool, under shade trees </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">on a spacious property owned by Christ Episcopal Church, Cedar Park. At the opening to the lovely stone-lined labyrinth walkway, I stopped to settle down and to open my needy, tired heart to God. Into my mind came a motherly </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“There, there”.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Instead of divine correction of my </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">self-pity I heard tender reassurance.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It felt like getting a letter from home when I was away at summer camp.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I spent a silent hour doing the prayerful, circling walk and ended with more hope for the busy week ahead.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The second exhausting week was a little like a disorienting visit to OZ. This Dorothy encountered challenges and many happy times, including one that gave her a new perspective on the concept of home. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">One of my nieces and her husband had already raised two capable (smart and beautiful) daughters to adulthood when they, in their Christian faith, took the brave risk of adopting two children, one at a time, each about 6 yrs. old when they moved in. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The little ones had been tossed to and fro by their need for foster care. Not born siblings, this darling girl and adorable boy have found camaraderie in their similar histories, the details of which are too horrifying to describe. For a while now they have been cared for by devoted, wise parents who are gradually helping them to believe that they have truly come home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hearing about the past for these little ones and witnessing the beautiful contrast in their present situation, I imagined what they must feel. For most of their lives they lived without the security of a real home, that ideal place where we’re safe and free to be our unveiled selves. Now, every morning, they awoke in their own bedrooms ready for hugs and laughter with their forever family. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My story here about two weeks of family visits is a shallow comparison to any orphan’s or refugee’s painful saga, but when I finally sank onto mine own little bed in Toronto, I almost wept with relief. Oh, the comfort of familiarity and security. At last I could fully relax. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ruby slippers off, I sighed, “There’s no place like home”.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">How we hope that Christian belief is right, that life after death will feel like arriving where we belong, at home with the One who unfailingly welcomes us in. </span><br />
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-60645330016365829772015-07-14T08:04:00.003-07:002015-07-14T08:10:49.337-07:00So Thirsty!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Oh, the sweet peace of sitting outside, safe and dry under my front porch roof during a gentle summer rain. The neighbourhood gardens are in full July bloom and I feel their gratitude for today’s wet benediction. Lilies, orange, yellow and cabernet-coloured, raise their trumpets to the sprinkling. White phlox stand tall while golden coreopsis bend their long thin stems gracefully beneath the shower’s gentle weight. Pale purple hosta bells bow their heads. Tough lavender bushes revel like children in the rain. After days of hot sun, underground tree roots must be surreptitiously slurping it up the way I do at my kitchen tap on sweaty afternoons.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The air is pleasantly warm, filled with the whispering sound of thousands of droplets hitting green leaves and dusty pavement.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I can’t sit still any longer - I need to write an ode to water. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">One of my personally canonized saints is Canadian Maude Barlow (see Council of Canadians, the only non-charitable organization to which I regularly donate). She is the political prophet who has been sounding the alarm for decades that we are squandering the very God-given substance that keeps us alive. For God’s sake, stop buying bottled water, I beg you. Mark my words, foreign corporations are draining our water table to get your money and drought-stricken Americans are eyeing Canada’s abundant melting glaciers and rainfall. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">A week ago I had the honour of paraphrasing to my Texas children one of my favourite bible stories about water. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I chose the tale of Jesus, hot and tired from desert travel, sitting without a bucket near a deep well. Along came a lone woman, alien in both gender and race. He asked her for a drink. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">She was no dummy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Clearly a thoughtful feminist, she replied wryly, “Why would you, a Jewish rabbi, ask me, a lowly Samaritan woman, to fetch you water?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jesus, admiring her comeback, replied with an equally provocative comment, “If you knew who I was you’d be asking <i>me</i> for a drink of living water.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“What? Ask you? Are you better than our ancestors who dug this well? You don’t even have a bucket with you.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Instead of attacking her for defying his superior male ranking, Jesus, with tender respect, stated a profound spiritual truth, “Anyone who drinks regular water will soon be thirsty again but anyone who chooses to take in what I’m offering will not only have their spiritual thirst quenched but will be so filled with peace and unconditional love that they will feel as if they have a spring inside of them, a fountain of forgiveness and faith in God that never runs dry.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Again, she was no dummy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Oh Sir, please give me that water!”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jesus proceeded with a conversation perfectly tailored to this woman’s own situation. In the end she was so convinced that Jesus was God’s answer to all of life’s death-dealing deserts that she spread the astonishing good news to her whole town. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sorry, but I just can’t help it. I always read life as its Author's allegory, like a graphic novel that isn’t fiction or fantasy. Gazing with pleasure on today’s lovely rainy gardens, I, too, swell with gratitude for water, both literal and eternal. </span><br />
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-12434635490043760852015-06-27T05:53:00.001-07:002015-06-27T20:18:25.956-07:00Summer Break<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The weathered, slatted rocking chair was a good place to relax</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">. Years ago we</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> carted it home to Ontario from a holiday in North Carolina. Using the chair on the front porch is a bit of a metaphor for life</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">, t</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">he comfy </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">to-and-fro rhythm interrupted by bumps when</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> wooden rockers hit the uneven edges of cemented flagstones.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was taking a break outdoors on a bright, breezy June afternoon, the very best of Toronto’s summer weather.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My daughter and her family would soon arrive from Vancouver, and their visit motivated me to get some postponed housework done. I'd cleaned out the junk drawer and washed the venetian blinds, scrubbed windows and scoured the oven, all tasks that </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">usually </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">don’t even make it to my list. It was a relief to sit down and look around.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Several generations of homeowners have transformed a former market orchard into our neighbourhood of lush, well-tended gardens and clashing styles of architecture.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We moved into our bungalow in the 1970's</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">as our first house.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Apparently it's our only house.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As I rocked, the warm wind stroked my skin and made every tree branch wave. Idly, I noted what species I could see. The variety surprised me. Red Maple, Weeping Cedar, Linden, Japanese Lilac (the city’s choice), Spruce, Ginkgo, Golden Cedar and Birch trees were all within view.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">A fuzzy, fat bumblebee grazed on the lavender bushes' new flowers. I imagined lavender-flavoured honey hidden nearby. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Milkweed plants, our invitation to Monarchs, now stood a metre high and held purple globes of blooms. Does anyone ever notice wild milkweed before the fluff-filled pods appear?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">A cream and black butterfly moved between fading white lilac blossoms, her busy ballet contrasting with the flowers’ inevitable dying.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Out of nowhere zoomed toward me a large bird, but its white-tipped wings lifted it out of sight before I could get a close look. Nature is like its Creator, beautiful and reliable yet full of surprizes, inviting relationship but well beyond my control. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It was hard to settle into the moment – oh, I should </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">put polish on my toenails...and </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">shake out that dirty doormat...and... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thank God that the glorious mystery is always there, waiting for me to pay attention, especially in a growing season.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-24490519777966981072015-05-28T15:40:00.001-07:002015-11-18T19:26:01.321-08:00Underwear Attitude<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A clerk asked if she could help me. I was standing in the underwear section of a women’s clothing store. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“I’m trying to guess which size I need without having to try them on,” I answered.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">She, like me, was an older, roundish woman and after looking me up and down, she pronounced that I wasn’t as big as she was (a common fabrication of female solidarity). She told me what size would work and said that it was more economical to buy five pairs than two.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Then came the choice of colour; how many white, black, beige or grey.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Oh, I just don’t care”, I said, sighing at the tedium.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Whuh! <i>Attitude</i>!” the clerk corrected. “You have to care.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I laughed at her command and remembered my bad teenage habit of retorting to my big brother, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“I don’t care!” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">He would joke back, “But <i>somebody</i> has to care.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I took the clerk’s picks to the checkout. She followed me, apparently appraising my behind, and commented, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Oh you’re <i>much</i> smaller than I am.” I snorted at the personal evaluation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">While she rang up the bill, I made conversation, telling her that I was buying clothes for a Texas wedding this summer. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I moaned, “Can you imagine the heat, Texas in July?”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A second of silence passed before we met each other's eyes and said together, “Attitude!” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Laughing again, I said, "You are so right about focussing on positive stuff. I think I need you to come home with me."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I left the store feeling sky-high.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A few days later I was in the same mall and remembered a gift my daughter had given me. It’s a box of small cards, each one titled, “Thankyou” with a place to write on the back and a pop-out quote for the recipient to open.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I stopped into the clothing store on the off chance that my “Attitude" life-coach was working, but no. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Since I was wandering weirdly through the quiet store, hoping to recognize her but not knowing her name, I stopped to explain my behaviour to another worker. She tried to figure out who I meant and by the time I’d described my previous saleswoman’s friendly, joking personality, her colleague said, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Oh, that must have been Jane. She’s the manager but she’s not here today.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Jane's co-worker happily offered to hand on the mini thankyou note and was effusive about my small gesture. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">From now on, when any negative thought tries to escape my lips, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I think I'll hear Jane’s bold reminder, “Attitude!” And I'll smile at the memory.</span><br />
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-47048806465017450812015-04-28T06:05:00.002-07:002015-04-28T16:26:15.685-07:00Gasping at Serendipity<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Early one Spring, before any green leaves had appeared in Toronto, I noticed </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">in a nearby park </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">a bush whose branches were lined, every inch, with vibrant purple-pink flowers. From a park employee I learned that, contrary to its colour, the bush was named, “Redbud”. In all of my Ontario life I’d not seen this gorgeous magenta bloomer. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Imagine my surprise, then, when recently I drove past acres of Virginian forests decorated with vivid Redbud bushes. Here and there the woods were dotted with other trees blooming white or yellow, accentuating the Redbud's neon pink. I could hardly cope with the beauty as we sped along, gasping in grateful awe.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">During one stop on the same road trip, I walked through the colonial village of Williamsburg, VA, and happened on a sheep pasture. Two cute lambs stayed close to their grubby, waddling ewe-mothers. Our random group of tourists and locals smiled as we fondly watched the babies. At one point the lambs trotted down a small hill and, as they ran, one leapt straight up, with all four hooves off the ground. Anyone who’s seen new lambs in Springtime knows that these sudden hops look like the little animals are jumping for joy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The best surprise was hearing the sound all around me, as complete strangers joined in surprised delight. No one leapt into the air, but pure joy generated our </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">spontaneous c</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">horus of “Aww’s.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>This</i>, I thought, <i>this</i> is the kind of united “Yes!” that our Creator wants for us. <i>L’Chaim!</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">At a hotel elevator, I stood waiting silently beside another guest. I noticed his shoulder bag, looking a bit incongruous on a middle-aged man. Hanging low at his side, the raggedy patchwork of cloth had been worn into a wonky art piece.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“I like your bag”, I said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">His face opened in a big smile,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Thankyou! This is my favourite bag. I saw it at my brother’s house and admired it and he <i>gave</i> it to me! I’ve used it for seven years!” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Charming enthusiasm.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">At Okrakoke Island, NC, a National Park beach borders miles of the Atlantic Ocean. On the Outer Banks in April, few locals or tourists visit the shore so I was alone with the spectacular expanse of sky, sea and sand. Feeling the breeze on my skin, and hearing waves whooshing rhythmically, I noticed Nature’s extra garnish of the scene. At high tide mark t</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">he hard, damp sand w</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">as lined with a mosaic of seashells, each one a detailed design of stripes, ridges, multicolours and curves. Gasp. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Extravagant abundance.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Alleluia.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>This web address will let you enjoy Jane Sibbery’s song about life’s beauty</i>: https://youtu.be/Pj0eSfz7YZM</span><br />
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-59955266462863922162015-04-22T06:09:00.000-07:002015-04-22T14:14:37.840-07:00Gobble, Gobble<div style="font-family: Arial;">
<span style="font-size: large;">It wasn’t Thanksgiving or Christmas but “gobble, gobble” is the sound I heard in my head.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I realised that I was hurrying through the several subscription emails I receive daily, gobbling them up quickly by only skimming their content. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This behaviour makes no sense because the point of these particular emails is inspiration. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have chosen to read, every morning, a few good writers who carefully craft short pieces about intentional living. This is my attempt to follow the wise advice from the Bible and from current behavioural psychologists: We will be healthier, happier and more productive if we fill our minds with positive and true thoughts, avoiding the negative self-talk that results in discouragement and self-centred wallowing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Good idea, but too often I rush through these writings in order to get on with my day. I don’t have the excuse of employment or babies that demand my time so why do I gobble up five emails without taking time to think at length about any of them?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I also gobble food when I’m alone. Instead of savouring one cookie, I reach for a second immediately, as long no one’s there to disapprove. You’d think I’d been deprived as a child, or that I’m scarce on resources. Why this tendency to eat far more than necessary?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I gobble up books so fast that I remember little of what I read and often draw a blank if someone asks what I’m reading these days. I was amused and convicted by one author’s admission that her way of avoiding life is to make sure she has another book ready for when she finishes the current one. Uh-oh. Luckily for me and my book lust, the Toronto Public Library system is reputed to be one of the best, so there are always more books available. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I consider myself a contemplative who has learned (mostly) to focus gratefully on the present moment, whether I’m waiting in a checkout line or chatting with a neighbour on the street, so what’s with the hungry gobbling? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Back to school for me!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“…the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, will teach you all things</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #232323; font-family: Arial;"> and will remind you of everything I have said to you." </span><span style="color: #232323; font-family: 'Apple Chancery';">Jesus</span><span style="color: #232323; font-family: Arial;"><b> </b></span></span><br />
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-61404155371326576542015-04-06T08:07:00.000-07:002015-04-06T15:43:28.958-07:00Squirrel Synchronicity <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ah, the first joys of Spring! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">On a still-cold walk through the neighbourhood I noticed her, sitting on a low bushy branch, a red-breasted bird. Hurrah for </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">this year's </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">first sighting, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Hi Robin, welcome back!”</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I moved along to feisty little Mimico Creek. Now </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">crowded by development and buttressed by ugly gabions, i</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">t winds through Toronto’s west end heading for Lake Ontario. Careless garbage mars its banks, and yet it offers the luscious sound of water tumbling over stones, as mallard ducks ride the current. How can it never, ever, ever, </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">ever </span> </i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">stop flowing? This constancy always seems like an impossible miracle and reminds me of when I was intrigued </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">in</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> elementary school </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">by the "precipitation cycle"</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Aha! </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I almost swooned when I saw some green shoots in a sunny garden warmed up early by a stone wall’s backdrop. No blooms yet, but I recognized the first new leaves of tulip, iris and hyacinth. Three cheers!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The crisp quietness was interrupted by a vehement “CAW” from a king of the world on a high, bare branch, no reticence for him. Shout it out - Hallelujah!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Outside the daycare, toddlers in parkas pushed plastic lawnmowers across their snow-free asphalt play yard. Like sprouting bulbs those miniature bodies were growing toward adulthood. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Suddenly, from out of a driveway rushed two squirrels, barrelling right toward me on the road. I froze in panic; which way should I move? Just in time, they noticed me, slammed on their brakes and pulled sharp right turns with parallel synchronicity. I laughed as they dashed away in their spring fever.</span><br />
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-13794918398680956612015-03-29T15:03:00.002-07:002015-03-29T15:38:57.214-07:00Holey, Wholly, Holy<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Call it Easter Week or call it Holy Week, for Christians this week is the biggest annual festival of all.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Forgive the punning, but my holey self wants to enter wholly into this sacred celebration. The timeless story of Jesus Christ's execution and resurrection prompts a spectrum of thoughts and feelings. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">On this part of the planet, we’re crawling out of winter’s stark cold. Trees are still bare and there are no flowers at all. Nature's lingering death season makes it easy for us to identify with the dark hopelessness of the characters in the bible's Easter story. When everything we see is grey-brown it's almost impossible to believe that the greening will ever arrive. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Besides his family and friends, and hundreds he had healed, lepers, blind people, the mentally ill and sick children, Rabbi Jesus had also embraced local cast-aways, like a Jewish woman deemed “unclean” because of her chronic bleeding, a financial cheater named Zack, an adulteress woman on the verge of being stoned to death. All of these, so grateful for Christ’s miraculous kindness and life-changing message, must have felt bleak beyond bearing at the news of his arrest.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">This week, on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Vigil Saturday we imagine what it was like for his followers at his last Passover meal where he spoke and acted in confusing ways. When his team disappointed him by falling asleep as he begged for their support, how did it feel for him and for them? Led by insiderJudas who kissed Christ's cheek, terrifying soldiers arrived to arrest him and chaos erupted as the disciples scattered and Christ was dragged away. Next came excruciating torture and finally his grim death by crucifixion. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Re-hearing the ugly story with its elements of weakness, fear and betrayal, Christians think about our own cowardice when it comes to standing up for the poor, or to speaking out against wrongs.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We recognize our fears for the future.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We admit our own reluctance to take seriously Christ’s way of healthy humility that eagerly helps others.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We confess that we clutch our possessions tightly, murmuring privately, "Mine, mine, mine.”</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We remember thousands of our sisters and brothers who are without safe drinking water and adequate nutrition, never mind our ham-happy Easter dinners and egg hunts.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">What can we do but throw our puny selves face-down in our helpless hope for God’s forgiveness. We deserve nothing but punishment for the ways we have messed up our relationships, our ecosystems, our human community.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And then Sunday comes. Relieved and excited, we greet the dawn, millions of us all around the planet, reliving Mary's astonished shout, “I have seen him! He’s alive!” </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Better than the sight of Spring's green shoots, better than a newborn's arrival, better than a wedding day, Easter morning's shocking news calls for wild joy. Trumpets sound and the party’s on. Countless voices over the centuries in every language announce, "Once I was blind but now I can see. Once I was dead to hope but now I can trust. Once I was handcuffed in so many ways but now I am free. Amazing grace, how sweet the sound!"</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the biggest mystery of all, somehow, Jesus the promised One rose from his grave to an unending new life. He was God's open invitation to peace, justice, kindness, and all goodness, welcoming all. The Life-Giver, the Holy Someone beyond our imagining, deigns to accompany us every day, to enliven us with the Love that wins.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!</span><br />
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-21623276067563246322015-03-23T17:34:00.003-07:002015-03-24T13:44:00.894-07:00Oh, Them<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He spoke with a guttural Eastern European accent that was hard to understand over the phone. My heart sank a bit – isn’t there any construction contractor in Toronto who speaks English clearly? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My frustration with this very common Toronto experience provoked unwelcome thoughts about other non-anglo immigrants: Poles who cling to their native tongue, still not fluent in English despite decades of Canadian residency; ubiquitous Filipino nannies walking through my neighbourhood with strollers, understandably more comfortable with their </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Filipino </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">sisters than with my attempts at friendship; sales clerks who use English with me and then turn to a co-worker to carry on chatting in their mutual foreign language.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I force myself to remember how hard it is to learn a second language, not to mention the challenges of emigration itself, but…</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Current news headlines report a Muslim woman who believes that Allah is better pleased when she covers up her beautiful face, even while declaring the Citizenship allegiance to Canadian values of equality and community. How can we welcome you, Muslim sister, and build bridges, when there’s a black cloth barrier preventing us from seeing your smile? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">One of the most vivid sightings of ‘us vs. them’ surprised me during a political campaign meeting. Nervously I watched a person from one side violently grab and rip up a sign held by someone on the other side; audience members shouted down speakers they opposed. The police showed up. Ugh. It revealed how little some of us respect others' rights to disagree. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Another time I sat in on a discussion where church people spoke disdainfully about fellow Christians. They scorned those "born agains" who understood Jesus' teachings differently - wrongly, in their opinion. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Oh <i>them</i>!” An accompanying spit was implied.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">What a challenge it is to keep our hearts open to “those people”. But Jesus showed the richest, deepest, most joyful way to live. He said to care for our neighbours as much as we care for ourself, and to treat even our enemies with unselfish love.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Because of my own ugly prejudices, I relish every experience that decreases such bias. I long for the healing of our divisions.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yesterday, in a hardware store, I passed a young Muslim girl wearing a bejewelled headscarf, stretched tight across her forehead. She stood waiting for her parents to finish shopping. I gently touched her sparkles and said “So pretty!” She responded with a sweet grin. I shudder to think of how wary Muslims must feel in Canada these days.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's easy for me to reach out to young girls. By contrast, stone-faced men make me nervous, especially if they somehow appear “foreign” (clothes? Hairiness? Wha?). As it happened, one such was ahead of me in the long lineup at the Express check-out. He put his basket of groceries on the floor in front of me and hurried away, presumably to get a forgotten item. Before he returned, the line had progressed, so I stepped around his basket to put my two cartons of cream on the counter. Then he reappeared. I offered to let him go ahead but he refused, shaking his head silently with a mute gesture for me to move along.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I turned away, feeling a touch of rejection, to continue with checkout, but my heart lifted when I heard a male voice say, "But, <i>thank</i> you!" That simple appreciation from him connected us and gave me a bit more courage for my next timid border crossing into StrangeManLand. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Still it's hard not to act hatefully by ignoring and distancing “those people”. There was the immigrant in my Toastmasters Club who chuckled about how he tries to remember not to bribe police here in Canada the way everyone did in his homeland. His differences became even harder to tolerate when he was annoyed that I couldn’t always understand his heavily accented English on the first attempt. Because he could speak English quickly he thought he was fluent, and maybe he was to his compatriots, but not to me. I was glad to say a permanent farewell when my membership ended.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hard truth: if we want a peaceful planet, or even a peaceful neighbourhood, we have to <i>make</i> peace with others, even them.</span><br />
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-67953721395580228512015-03-05T08:29:00.002-08:002015-03-05T08:29:45.052-08:00Frozen Melt<br />
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Winter in the North holds sway with deadly cold, treacherous layers of ice and snow, power outages, and broken water mains.</div>
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When humans struggle to survive, and some poor souls die from exposure, how can a feathered body the size of a plum keep from freezing stiff? How does that tiny heart keep beating, its blood keep flowing? If I feel chilled in my insulated, minimally heated basement, how can there be the sound of a sparrow chirping outside my window on this March morning?</div>
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Sweeter than honey are such natural miracles of the Creator’s magical mystery tour.</div>
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Metaphorical winters can be deadly, too. Bitter losses and tragedies can smother joy like snow piled high. And still our hearts melt at kind words and stories of compassionate outreach.</div>
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In Marianne Robinson’s novel, <span style="text-decoration: underline;">Lila</span>, she offers an acute perspective on the jarring discomfort we feel when life tosses us between beauty and horror. An elderly minister in the story drafts his sermon and we read this poetic wisdom,</div>
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“Life on earth is difficult</div>
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and grave</div>
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and marvellous. </div>
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Our experience is fragmentary. </div>
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Its parts don’t add up. </div>
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They don’t even belong in the same calculation. </div>
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Sometimes it is hard to believe they are all parts of one thing….</div>
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joy can be joy</div>
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and sorrow can be sorrow</div>
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with neither of them casting </div>
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either light or shadow on the other.”</div>
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Hang on for a wilder ride than any drug trip: </div>
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<span style="text-decoration: underline;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/%22http://">www.youtube.com/watch?v=ToFQahoDclA</a></span><span style="color: black;"> </span></div>
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-43740312904706032282015-02-24T09:55:00.001-08:002015-02-24T19:24:42.655-08:00Shocked into Humility<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">You never know when something’s going to hit you. Today I was struck by some vivid language in the bible book, “Jude”, shocked by how it reads like a current newspaper column about irresponsible politicians or corrupt financiers or faithless church leaders. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">What an accurate description Jude gives of people who are slaves to their own ego, and blind to the limitation of their own perspective. Adamant that they matter more than anyone around them, they machete a bloody path through life, careless of the pain they scatter on all sides.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I’d love to know who comes to mind when you read these excerpts:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“They are waterless clouds carried along by the winds; autumn trees without fruit, twice dead, uprooted; wild waves of the sea, casting up the foam of their own shame…” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“…grumblers and malcontents; they indulge their own lusts; they are bombastic in speech, flattering people to their own advantage.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“It is these worldly people, devoid of the Spirit, who are causing divisions.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Oh, those bad guys! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Whenever I express concern to my little grandchildren about their watching animated shows full of explosions and “Pows!” they protest “but those are the <i>bad</i> guys!” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sadly most of us haven’t fully outgrown such simplistic dualism. Just like many of our leaders we divide humanity into good and bad. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">If so, which am I? D</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">o I ever grumble? Have I ever flattered someone so they'd like me? Do I ever add to the divisions between people by negative comments about some group? I don’t know about you but I am too aware of what I see in the mirror to imagine that I deserve to wear a white hat. A Michael Jackson song comes to mind.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Because we are not purely good guys, the Church season of Lent calls us to self-examination, and a humble turn-around toward God’s better ways. The more clearly we see the mess, the greater our gratitude for Good Friday and Easter morning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> Jude goes on to encourage us:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“But you, beloved, build yourselves up on your most holy faith; pray in the Holy Spirit;<span class="s1"><b><sup> </sup></b></span>keep yourselves in the love of God; look forward to the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ… </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“To him who is able to keep you from falling, and to make you stand without blemish in the presence of his glory with rejoicing, to the only God our Saviour, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, power, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Michael Jackson, bless his heart, sang that we needed to change the world by first changing ourselves. Jesus said that if we follow him, God's Spirit will give us the ability to live into that change.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Enjoy the music at: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">www.youtube.com/watch?v=PivWY9wn5ps</span><br />
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-462696032268242742015-02-12T06:35:00.000-08:002015-02-12T15:49:00.543-08:00Happy Valentine's Day!<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Is it true love?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">What is that fleeting feeling and why is it just the <i>best</i>? You know what I mean - the moment when you find yourself not just on the same page, but with the very same perspective as another person. I’m not talking romance here. It might be with a stranger or a relative with whom you have little in common when, for a split second, you both connect so fully that you’re like one person instead of two. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It can happen when a cashier patiently waits for a slow customer rooting through his wallet and you, in line behind him, share a fond smile with the clerk. You catch each other’s eye, just for an instant, and bam, a flash of empathy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Babies in public places prompt many such moments – beaming faces all round unite in delighted adoration. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">One wintery day, as I passed a security guard on the sidewalk in front of my bank, I thought I heard a tune being hummed. I did a u-turn and asked "Are you singing?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He answered, "Oh yes, I am" and broke into "My Girl" a pop song from my youth. I joined him in a street corner duet, "I've got sunshine on a cloudy day...". Pure joy for both of us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I wonder if these moments are a taste of true love, the mystical idea of universal oneness, the kind of communal connection that Jesus offered humanity. Does that instant of joy, untainted by any of the usual divisions and egocentricity, show us what the Easter promises meant? Are we glimpsing the coming world where True Love rules, the kind of human wholeness for which “all creation groans”?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was at Pike Place, the popular outdoor market in Seattle, Washington. Tourist websites had all mentioned the stall where workers threw fish to each other, so I made a beeline there to ask what I had to do to see a fish get thrown. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Buy one!” the aproned man replied. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Duh.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">After I explained that I was on the road and couldn’t cook anything, he cheerily carried on chatting. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As we stood next to each other, waiting for someone to order a fish, I suddenly felt hands kneading my shoulders and realized that the tall young worker was treating me to a quick massage as he waited for his next customer. If I hadn't been his mother's age, it would have creeped me out. As it was, I relaxed into the pleasure of his strong fingers digging into my tense muscles and then grinned up at him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Will you marry me?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He hesitated and quipped, “Uh, how do you feel about student loans?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We shared a laugh of true love…joy, peace, kindness, goodness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Whether we receive Valentine gifts or not, true love surrounds us. Celebrate!</span></div>
DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-639075068206221019.post-70521926504267548322015-02-02T11:41:00.000-08:002015-02-02T11:41:21.464-08:00January Fails<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">January 2015 wasn’t much fun, that’s for sure. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">First I had to endure several outlandishly awful hours for a medical test “they” say is a good idea. I started out feeling just fine before they got their hands on me. Then life stopped for two days of fasting and, shall we say, cleansing. After test day I staggered out of the clinic and typed, stamped, signed, and mailed to my family doctor a vow that no matter what, I will never endure that test again. In my opinion, every person who prescribes a test should experience that test at least once.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Then a beloved in-law died of cancer long before her time. She was exactly my age. For weeks we heard sad updates on her deterioration until the end came in January. We researched flights, funeral locations, and family preferences in between empathetic tears of sorrow for her children and the grandchildren who would have no memories of this vivacious, athletic woman. I find death unbelievable – how can that lively person be gone from the face of the earth? Impossible reality.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Next I was stricken with gastroenteritis, the fancy term for what we used to call stomach flu. Oh, the tricks one’s body plays while it fights dastardly invaders – REVOLTING and exhausting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Samuel Johnson said that the prospect of being hanged wonderfully concentrates the mind. Fear and pain likewise detour any determination to be grateful. It’s hard to think about anything but how much it hurts. From the bathroom floor, death by hanging starts to appeal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">During January I heard of people dying in Paris and Nigeria, of suicides and illnesses. Such news added to my own trials, tempting me toward gloom. As you know, all of the Wise Ones affirm the bountiful by-products of suffering. Christianity promises that one day God will fix the mess but meanwhile, what do I do with January’s fails? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As I age, the probability of more pain ahead, both physical and emotional, is taking centre stage, and I want to know for real how those lovely theories make any practical sense. As my guts twisted I wondered how there could be any good at all in this suffering. HELP! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Through tears over personal and global pain, I asked God for more understanding re bible statements like, “I can do anything through Christ’s strength in me” and, “Everything works together for good to those who love God and want to live according to God’s plan.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">God answered me in my distress. Here’s January’s short list of goodness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">1. The medical test woke me up to the need to take my own welfare in hand and make informed choices now instead of trusting any professionals, beyond mining their expertise as part of my research. No specialist cares about us as much as we care about ourselves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">2. The loss of a fine woman brought about tender and intimate conversations and ways to show loving care that wouldn’t have happened otherwise. Maybe shared tears accomplish in a relationship what shared laughter cannot. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">3. A temporary but overwhelming illness deepened my appreciation for my amazing husband with whom, on regular days, I am in continuous frustrating negotiation. Who’s driving when are we leaving are you free then did you eat yet you missed the turn forgot your sunglasses, blah blah blah scream. During my ugly incapacitation he nursed me patiently, running errands and cooing sympathy, and even afterward continues to tell me I’m beautiful. I could describe what I looked like when I was sick but you do not want to picture it, believe me. I feel so warmly toward him for his faithful caretaking that I haven’t growled for several days now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And I’m relieved to say that I didn’t lose my temper with him at all while I was ill either, so maybe we <i>can</i> do some things by God’s strength that don’t come naturally.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The forage for goodness continues.</span></div>
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DJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13971950844240677373noreply@blogger.com