Peaceful and Quiet Lives

Have you ever longed to do something big with your life? You know to change the world in some tangible, distinct way?  

We are doing a study in our Ladies Bible Study Group by Jen Hatmaker. It is about unraveling God’s call on our life. I love her approach because she brings it all back down to earth and makes it simple.  I think sometimes we shut ourselves down before we even get going. Often we are looking for something big and overlooking what is right in front of us.

As I have been reflecting on today’s study, this verse from 1 Timothy 2:1-2 came to mind.” I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people—for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness.”

It takes a lot of pressure off to think of living a “peaceful and quiet” life.  It feels doable. I look at that verse and think “ I actually might be able to accomplish that!”  It brings the dream of living for God and having an impact down to a completely manageable level.  I don’t have to shift my whole life in order to accomplish this. I don’t necessarily have to uproot my family and go to some third world county or have some superhuman skill set. I just have to be where I am, doing regular life.  

To live peaceably and quietly means to avoid quarrel, to be free from violent conflict. Watching the leaders of churches walk alongside those who were rioting in Baltimore is a great example of this. Their actions were peaceable. It can mean living in ways that strive to bring people together. There are loads of ways this can be lived out. It may mean when someone does something silly in traffic I refuse to give them a mean look. It may be as simple as letting the young Mom with little ones who are about to melt down take the grocery check out line that is shorter. Or maybe spending some time with someone who is lonely. It could be as simple as looking for ways to show interest and care for the co worker who drives everyone a little nutty at work. It may be taking a look around my neighborhood and seeing who can use some of the "fix it" skills we have.

The transforming of my life into a godly and holy life is up to God. That is his work. It is accomplished as I get to know and love him more. I love that these verses comes under a heading entitled “Instructions for Worship”.  As I love God more and more, my desire increases to be like him. As I make God my priority, he shapes my life to reflect him more. That is what worship is. It is living to honor God.

I only need to remain in him and live peaceably and quietly.

It looks like normal people living normal lives. It can be simple. It can be manageable.  But it is counter culture. Instead of having my eyes focused on me, I am looking out. Instead of getting caught up in image, cloths, toys it means looking at others. It means looking past myself and looking at what those around me need.  It takes intentionality to live this way. Focused intentionality.  It is normal for me to be consumed with me, my life and the people in my circle.  It takes focus and intention to live looking out.  It changes things. Sometimes, I will slip into old habits. Routine check points to make sure I am on track are important.

The beauty of this is that as I do normal life, God does amazing things. I may not ever know all that he does through me and that is okay. When I live for God, he can accomplish his kingdom building, I get to be a part of it. I get to be a part of changing the world.This is what gives each day purpose, this is what gives deep joy and a sense that I am part of something bigger. This is where adventure begins.

It begins simply and manageable. It begins peaceful and quiet.

Endings

Today is the final commencement ceremony at Bethany Bible College. It is closing its' doors.

My Grandparents, parents, my sister and I all attended this school at some point in our young adult life. I have had months to anticipate the closure. I have always hoped something would happen to prevent it. My years at Bethany impacted, shaped and changed me. It was a large part of forming who I became.

My parents always talked about their years at bible school with fondness. They strongly encouraged us to consider spending at least a year in bible school after high school. One of the greatest parts of studying at Bethany was that it gave me a chance to be near my Grandparents who lived a couple of blocks from the campus. On Wednesday night I would visit Grandma and Grandpa Peters where we would play Skippo and scold my Grandma for her shameless table talk. Then we would laugh as Grandpa purposefully ignored her directions.  Saturdays I would go to my Grandma Rinas'. I would do laundry, help her bake and play Scrabble.  I don't think I won a single game!! This gave me the chance to know my Grandparents better and learn about their lives. For some classes I could interview them. I got to hear from them what they remembered from Russia. I got to learn about what it was like being immigrants in a new land. I learned a lot about the challenges and victories God brought them through in their lives. I got the chance to build wonderful memories with them that I will cherish for a lifetime.

My parents did not view bible school as an opportunity for only people heading into ministry. They believed in spending time studying the bible. Mom and Dad knew that time at Bible school was worth it. They knew that building a life on the foundation of scripture is the best preparation for living well.  They were right. My time at Bethany was foundational for many reasons. 

1. Bethany gave me time to wrestle through my faith, away from all that was secure. I could not run to Mom and Dad for answers, I had to fight through my beliefs with teachers who challenged us to think critically and peers who were working through it also.
2. Bethany gave me a chance to get to know myself better. Opportunities to serve and work with others gave me the chance to test and developed my skill set.
3. Adults who took the time to know me were able to encourage me, help me discern strengths and weaknesses and speak into my life, giving me direction and a clearer view of myself.
4. I was able to start healing from some of life's wounds there and understand God's place in my pain.
5. Bethany was a good intermediate step between High School and University. It gave me time to grow up and further develop my foundation.
6. Bethany gave me the chance to take off my rose coloured glasses and realize we are all on a journey. Everyone is at a different place. Life is messy with people but that with a common goal, unity can be achieved and grace given for one another's weaknesses.
7. It was a great community and focus from which to shape my world view. I learned to value and respect the history I came from and how it could form and shape the way I approached the world.
8. We got to know teachers who became mentors and have offered valuable insight on our life situations through the years.
9. I grew in my understanding of how to properly read and interpret scripture. How to handle God's word carefully and accurately.
10. I grew to understand how scripture fit together from Genesis to Revelations, over arching themes and genres. This gave me a more thorough understanding of it's message and God's goals. It also helped me read scripture more accurately.
11. Basic Theology gives a biblical understanding of who God is, and who we are. Knowing God and Knowing Man were some of my favorite courses. 
12. I met my husband there. As much as "bridal school" is a joke, being in an environment with others who have similar values and pursuits is a smart place to find a partner for life. Even if you didn't meet your spouse through Bible school, you may have met them through a Bible school connection, like my sister who married my husbands best friend.

These are a handful of ways Bethany changed me. Bethany has had a huge impact on the local church. They have trained up many Pastors as well as many Missionaries. Many people who operate in highly valuable lay ministry roles were equipped through the efforts and mission of Bethany. They have had a huge impact on educating leaders for the local church. But more than that, they trained people who entered the world. Regular people who could live with integrity and truth. People who spread the light of Jesus and are prepared to answer for the hope that they have. 

The doors are closing on an era where Biblical education in a Bible School setting was affordable and valued. It makes me sad. I had hoped our kids could have had the option of studying at Bethany. Our youngest would have thrived there. It is an environment and setting that has a unique and valuable niche. I hope new options for Biblical education are created. I can barely process all I am feeling about this, grief, nostalgia, concern for future generations. I understand the need to grow and change with the times. I also know we are moving further and further from Bible based living as a culture and even as Christ followers. I am so deeply concerned about this. There is so much richness to be found in the community that happens in a Bible school setting. There was so much that was unique to what Bethany in particular had to offer. 

I guess my biggest dream is that as a people of God we become more and more dedicated to becoming students of the Bible. I hope that we develop ways of teaching our children to become students of the Bible. Now we need to be even more creative as we seek to engage them in building Bible centered lives. We need to become very proactive in developing and promoting opportunities for our children to test their ministry muscles. We need to become intentional in new ways to provide avenues for them to get to know themselves. They need to develop their strengths and weaknesses. We need to reestablish the value that Bible schools offered and stretch our children with  chances to test their leadership and personal skills.

I was hoping this wouldn't have to happen, I was hoping Bethany wouldn't have to close its' doors. We are still encouraging our children to prayerfully consider Bible school as an option after high school. At this point our daughter plans to go to Briercrest. She will spend the year in Biblical Studies and training with the Volleyball team. We desperately pray she will build a firm foundation and will learn more about how to use her love of sport as God designed her to. We are thrilled to see how it will challenge and develop her. We are praying she meets amazing friends and stretches.  We pray she has fun makes great memories. We are praying she finds mentors who will help guide her. Briercrest offers a very different environment than Bethany. I wish it were possible for both to exist.

 We hope there are options for our boys as they approach that time. I hope as a believing community we will dig deeper into the fundamental need to promote Bible based living. I pray desperately that we will use the resources at our disposal to offer that to future generations. I still hope that Bethany can rise from the ashes.

Little Man

As I sit down to write this post, nostalgia drifts down and settles on my heart. I am thinking about my kids getting older. How fast it has gone. How inexpressibly difficult, phenomenal and utterly exhausting raising a family is. My mind wanders back to my first post of 2015 where I tell a story of my middle child.  My first born son.

WARNING!!! This post is a novel.....

When he was eight Quin came running to me with so much enthusiasm, "Mom, I can't wait for 2015!"  It caught me off guard, I was so startled I didn't even think of doing the math to figure out why, so I queried. "I can drive!" he exclaimed almost bursting with the thought of it.  His little round face exuded so much anticipation and sheer impatience. I didn't even know how to respond.

This story captures the heart of my first born son.  Always in a hurry to grow up! That is why his nick name was "little man". As his mother, I have always gently chided him to enjoy the age he was, or the space of life he was experiencing. It is fleeting. It is gone all too quickly. It is your one chance. Don't waste it dreaming and longing for another time.

As I look back, I see that he has always been able to hold the two in perfect tension. He lives life to the full while he dreams of what is coming. My adventuresome little man.

As I carried Quin, I had time to prepare for the kind of child that was coming.  From the start his strength, activity and movement were astonishing.  I could feel him football roll inside of me and I would pray like mad that his cord wouldn't tie up.  He winded me on more than one occasion with the force of his kicks. He was exhausting inside the womb and I was sure he would be on the outside too. I was so excited to meet this little ball of energy. In my heart, I knew he was a boy.  We couldn't even come up with a girl's name.

Quin arrived right on time.  We skipped the first stage of labor and headed into strong, furious contractions 3-5 minutes apart. I was toxic again and for safety the doctors ordered an epidural. We laughed our way through his delivery and in a short space of four hours, there he was.  He came out holding his own head up, gnawing on his hands with hunger and scowling fiercely. In fact he must have been scowling for a long time because he had permanent wrinkle marks between his little eyebrows. He nursed while I tried to gently worry away the scowl marks.  Once he finished, he was still not satisfied and began gnawing on his little fists again, he needed a bottle. He could not wait for my milk to come in. He was ravenous and downed that milk in quick order. The nurse said it didn't mean anything.  She was wrong! So much about the way he arrived was predictive of his nature.

Quin ate every two hours for about 12 weeks.Night and day. I was exhausted and he was thriving. He needed very little sleep. Twenty to forty minute naps were all he ever took. One nap in the morning one in the afternoon...maybe.The doctor told us to give him solids at 4 months and by five months I gave up nursing and bottle fed him. I was too tired to produce what he needed and he was already appreciating solid food. At six months old he was so offended that his food was different than ours at Thanksgiving dinner, he grunted like a little cave man until we cleaned off a thigh bone and let him chew on it.  Delighted, he gnawed enthusiastically. Quin has always needed regular meals and could out eat the average man by the time he was two and a half.  There is a very small window in which to catch his hunger. If it is missed he can't think, he grunts like a cave man and becomes irrational and grumpy. Grumpy is a nice way to put it. The kid is a calorie burning machine and for the first 10 years of his life his average body temp was a degree or more warmer than the rest of us. When people have him over I try to explain his caloric requirements. I get nods of "yeah, yeah, we have teenage boys too."  Inevitably I get a remark of "Wow, how much are you spending on groceries anyways???!"  We actually feed him a meal before we go to friends for dinner just so he doesn't clean out their kitchen.

Quin was frustrated until he could walk. He took his first steps before he was eight months old and two weeks later he was running every where. His little legs looked like egg beaters. Along with the running came big smiles. He was so pleased with his new found freedom. Looking back over videos of him two things stand out,  he is always moving fast and always smiling. I just had a young couple trying to explain to me how busy their kids are, like I wouldn't understand. I just nodded and smiled. It was a full time job keeping up to Quin and keeping him alive. We used to joke about making him live with a hockey helmet and that it would be a miracle if we could keep him alive until he was 5! I would play "Go, Go, Go, Stop!!!" to teach him to stop when I needed him to.  That way he wouldn't dart out into traffic. If Quin got tired, he would just increase his speed. He was determined to do everything the way big people did. Including stairs, which at eight months old, was actually not physically possible. Every night we would get ready for bed and there would be new bruises. Big, bad, ugly bruises. I would think back, I couldn't remember any tears. Just a lot of action. He would invent new ways to use playground equipment, always very aware of his limits. I would get nasty looks from other mothers and ignore them. Keeping my eye on my son. The only time he was still was waking up from a nap. He did this slowly and would just melt into me. Quiet still moments when he would snuggle in like that were precious.

Quin loves riding bike. Just before he turned three he asked his Dad to take off his training wheels. I wouldn't let it happen. Eventually Quin stopped riding. One day as Craig was working on the truck, Quin asked him again. Craig took off the trainers. Craig came into the house where I was doing dishes, explained what happened and sadly said " I didn't even get to hold the seat and run alongside of him, he just rode off!!"  I ran out to see and there was Quin, smiling with joy riding around on two wheels like that was how he had always done it. At five, he wanted a jump. That was good for a day. Then he needed a bigger jump. Again Craig said no and Quin stopped riding.  Finally Craig gave in,  Quin rode with pleasure. He took as much air as he could and I watched close by. Then it happened. He took too much air and lost control. He landed with style, right on his face. It was the first time I remember him actually crying in pain. I carried him home in my arms, dragging the bike along. I was thanking God that my child felt pain and begging that it would mean something to him. His little brother refuses to ride with him. Simply put in his own words " I don't want to watch Quin die."

Quin adored his sister and always greeted her with a big smile, wildly kicking his arms and legs. She was his main motivation for getting mobile and walking. When Connor came along, Quin was a gentle, benevolent brother. Loving and caring right from the start. Connor, protective of his time alone with  me, would sometimes hit Quin when he approached. Quin would just smile and walk away. Off he would go, busy and happy. He was only 15 months old when Connor came along. There is a lot that is a blur. The first eight weeks we had a major disaster each week and I would call Craig in a panic. I was often unable to clean the mess and keep all three children safe. I would try my best to contain Quin and was only rarely successful.  I would sit down to nurse Connor and pray that Quin would stay alive.

Quin is our true extrovert. Thank goodness he has two siblings, between the two of them and me there was usually someone to play with. Quin is very collaborative  Seeing how Sydney loved volleyball, Quin took it up.  He wanted to share it with her.  As soon as Connor started cello, Quin wanted to start playing music with him. He loved it when he and Sydney were in guitar lessons together. Quin loves team sport and is a faithful, hard working team mate. He views himself realistically and knows what strengths and weaknesses he brings to the team. Quin is quick to see the strengths of others and tries to build up every team he is a part of. He is loyal to the end, protective of everyone who he cares for and loves completely and fiercely.

Quin's nick name is "little man" for a reason. He has always seemed older and more capable than his age.  At four he was a ring bearer. He had been told to watch the rings carefully and did just that. Right before he and Sydney were to head down the isle, one of the rings rolled away.  He planted himself firmly while she tried to tug him along. He kept his eyes on where the ring landed, unmovable until one of the ushers finally figured out what had happened. The usher retrieved the ring and tied it in place again. Being responsible and seeming so capable, sometimes people would give him more than his years and experience could handle. These failures weighed heavy on his little heart though in reality, they were not his failures to carry.  We have tried to guard him from this. He takes responsibility seriously and works hard to come through!

Quin is very bright, only he tries to pretend he is not so that expectations stay reasonable and easily achievable.  He gets good marks with no extra effort and I was stunned this year when his grades jumped almost 10%. I was confused because this happened without any extra, visible effort. When I asked Quin about it, he just casually said "Grades count in grade 10 Mom." You can't even imagine my reaction! How can you scold a kid who is achieving yet showing no effort?!

In grade eight, Quin took up guitar. I paid for six lessons and the rest he has learned himself.  It is so incredible to see him playing with the band on Sunday's. My mind would spin wondering how he had mastered and figured out so much all on his own. Since he loves to collaborate, I asked him to teach me last summer. He wanted to teach me a song that required a capo. I explained that I wanted to learn why and how a capo worked and the theory behind it before I used it.  I explained that I just didn't have the time at the moment. He came back 10 minutes later with a huge theory based explanation that honestly, I was not capable of grasping in my multitasking state."Did you google that?" I asked. "No, I just figured it out. I want you to learn this song Mom!!"  There are no words for what I was feeling in that moment. Without the challenge of sport and music Quin would die of boredom. School has failed to intrigue him as of yet. I cannot wait until it does. He has a keen and active mind that requires stimulation and challenge.  The work ethic he has demonstrated in pursuit of music and sport is amazing and makes us very proud. Lately, he has asked Grandma Tess to teach him piano and is speeding along. We are proud and amazed at the hours and effort he devotes to it.

Quin does everything he loves with all of his heart. He holds nothing back. This leaves him vulnerable and open to hurt. As a mother this is scary because I want to protect him and I can't. What if all of him isn't enough? For all his rough and tough, he has an enormously tender heart and is easier to wound than one thinks. This often shocks people because things they expect to bounce off of him can prick deeply.  Sometimes because he is so strong, people don't realize how tenderhearted he is. It is sometimes so confusing for him because he is a compassionate, thoughtful person who would never purposefully hurt someone. He has a deep understanding of right and wrong.  Over the years has often defended those who need defending. He always chooses to believe the best about others and has amazed me at his willingness to forgive and give second chances.  He is chivalrous, considerate and generous. There are no adequate words for the strength of his heart.

Quin is often reserved until you get to know him. You have to earn his respect and trust for him to be comfortable with you. His Elementary school teachers were always excited at our January Parent/ Teacher interviews. "He is finally talking to me!" they would exclaim with excitement. His teachers have always loved him! He has one that has nicknamed him "Optimus Reim" and I think that is so perfect on so many levels!! If you get to see his humor, his twinkle and quick wit, you know you have made the cut.  Tread carefully, you do not know the observation that has gone on to earn this right. Handle it carefully, you wouldn't want to lose it! Quin keeps us in stitches with his sense of humor. He can be so lighthearted, his laughter and joking truly are qualities our family adores about him. Quin also has a serious side. He is a deep thinker often stumping me with difficult and profound questions. He has trouble turning his mind off sometimes. It is the perfect blend of serious and fun and we all enjoy these qualities immensely.

When Quin started grade one, he had to do after school reading, the only thing he would read was the Bible.  There we would sit after school reading through the book of Mark.  By grade four he took his Bible to school for quiet reading time. There he sat, reading through the book of Isaiah much to his teachers astonishment!  She was amazed and delighted saying, "Now there is a kid who isn't going to be led by others!"   Quin has been given the gift of faith. It is strong, unwavering and deep. He has complete trust in God when it comes down to brass tacks. This is an amazing gift and is truly such a strength in him. There have been times when he has been moved to speak, the truth that comes forth, the power and confidence he says it with and the emotion that hovers in his voice have moved Craig and I deeply. It is something to behold.

Quin has an incredible will. Good luck motivating him if he has decided not to do something and good luck coming up with a consequence that equates to what his will has determined it wants. One year Craig built the kids an amazing tree fort. We decided to add a rope ladder they would have to learn to shimmy up. We actually tried to make it a challenge. Quin was six. Every few minutes he would come in from outside with his magnificent scowl ( the one he was born with) and he would gripe at me about that rope. I would smile at him and say "If it was easy, it wouldn't be fun. When you get mad enough, you will do it!" Well, about twenty minutes later he came in triumphant. He had conquered the rope ladder and was giddy with pleasure at his victory.

Worries about work ethic were quelled early on. He shoveled gravel with us for 6 hours one day that same spring. He wanted to be helpful, responsible and work with us.  The other two children did more than their share and we tried to send them off to play. Quin refused to go play. He worked his little heart out with us so I could have another flower bed. I am convinced that the sheer force of his will is going to help create any opportunity he desires.

We have seen Quin in a few different situations this year that have revealed parts of his heart that we have not seen tested until now. He has shown himself to be teachable and desiring what is right. He has shown that honoring others whether a peer or someone of authority is important to him. He has shown himself to have integrity, strength, gentle leadership and an incredible capacity to do what is right. He has shown himself honorable and true. He has made good choices in tricky situations and we have been so proud of who he has shown himself to be. He is a young man of incredible character, depth and  quality. Craig and I are so proud of who he is and who he is becoming. I am privileged to be this remarkable young man's mother.

Quin, here you stand on the edge of manhood. You are turning 16 soon. I know if I was to release you to full independence already you would make great choices and treat the responsibility with consideration. You are already a worthy young man.There is already so much I can trust you with. Be patient. Just give me two more years. Two short years. Years that are much too short. Two more years to guide you and prepare you. Two more years to enjoy you everyday and enjoy the pleasure of your company. Two more years to parent actively. Give me time to work out how to let you go, I am not ready yet. I probably wont be ready then. But trust me, I will release you when the time comes. I would never dare to hold you back. I am far too excited to see what you will do. In some ways, I cannot wait to watch and see who you will become. There is too much adventure in what the future holds, I cannot and would not restrain you. I do not want to miss the sheer delight of cheering you on. Child, my heart is bursting with pride, joy and love for you. You are remarkable young man. And for two more years, two short years, you will remain my little man!!! After that you will be an adult. You will still be our son, you will always be our son. But when you are fully grown you will no longer be my little man, you will be God's man.

Without You, I Wouldn't Be Me

Currently my sister is halfway to Honduras. She flew off. All by herself. That's right. Alone. To a South American country that is run by corrupt leaders. Drug cartels.  Where tourists have recently been mistreated. Where people are desperately poor and will do desperate things to survive. Away she went without a second thought. I mentioned she went alone, right?  All alone!!  Just her, a suitcase and 2 boxes of humanitarian aid...

While that bothers me, I feel peaceful.  As much as I don't like the idea in my head, my soul is at rest. Thank you God for keeping my sister in the shelter of your wing!!

Gail has always been independent.  I grew up thinking she was fearless. If Mom gave us money to buy something at the store when we were little, I only had to ask and Gail would do it for me. I was terrified of talking to adults.  Gail would boldly walk up to the cashier make the purchase, promptly hand me my goods and give me the change. One day she decided it was enough and she made me do it myself. The first few times, I put my items back. Too afraid to approach the cashier. Finally one day, my desired purchase outweighed my fear. If Gail could do it, maybe I could also. She taught me to take an important step of independence.

Gail was my safety. I followed her into social situations and let her navigate while I tagged along. I depended on and was pulled along by her charisma and confidence. Watching her comfortably meet people, make friends and embrace any social situation taught me how to do the same. I do this with much less charisma, much less flare and a lot more quietly ;) I was painfully shy in contrast to her extraordinarily social nature. Watching her gave me skills it would have taken forever for me to learn on my own.

Down the street lived a very hurt, sad girl. She was miserable and so she bullied others. When I was five she would pick on me because she knew I was too timid to defend myself. What she didn't count on was my sister happening upon us. In quick order Gail evaluated the situation and took appropriate measures. Well, maybe she went a little far. Suffice it to say that from then on that girl was overly nice to me. A year later when I was walking home from school, an older boy from our street was just being a boy. He was throwing snowballs down the hill I was trying to walk up. To his misfortune my sister came along. On seeing what he was doing to me, she tuned him good and proper. By the time I made it up the hill, he was a cowering mess and Gail just said "let's go!" Word must have got around because no one picked on me that much after. She taught me how to be brave and stand up for myself. 

Gail has always been a force. Her willfulness was often too much for me when we were younger. I didn't have the strength to stand against her. I would often give in and let her have her way.  As I grew, I started to learn to push back. Because of my sister, I learned not to be intimidated by strong people. I learned how to stand up for myself. Without her strength, I would not have found mine. This has helped me in numerous ways through the years. God knew I needed her. God gave her to me to teach me how to be strong.  I am forever thankful for that!  In return, God has used me to soften her. It is a win, win!!

While she is strong, she has an extremely soft heart. Because of her, I learned that people who fight harder often do so out of pain. I learned that strong, intimidating people often were easily hurt. I learned to be careful with my words and actions. When hurt, she often came across more harshly than she intended.  I learned to be thoughtful and aware of that. I have learned the importance of affirmation through this. I learned to express how much I value the relationship. 

Gail had a natural drive to push herself in some areas. Watching her taught me to do the same. She slalom skied, so I had to. She got her slalom start, so I had to. She learned to downhill ski. I had to also. Keeping up to her taught me how to push myself.  I owe my drive to try harder to her. I learned to strive for my potential because of how she strove for hers. 

I learned leadership from her. She could bring focus and direction to any situation. If a group of us were hanging out and needed to do something, she could help us narrow it down and get going. If we couldn't decide where to eat, she could make the decision and we all went with it. Watching her effortlessly voice her ideas taught me to try and voice mine. Watching her provide leadership showed me how to try testing mine. While we have leadership approaches that suit our own nature, she was key in helping me learn that I had leadership skills. Gail was highly instrumental in helping me discover my leadership style.

I am so thankful for my sister. Without her, I would not have become the woman I have become. While I express all of these traits in my own way. I demonstrate these characteristics in ways consistent with my temperament. Yet many of them were drawn out and shaped by her example.

So as I think of my sister, flying off to Honduras all by herself. Something I highly doubt you will ever hear of me doing. I feel peace. 

Gail is flying off to touch base with three new "forever" family homes that have been set up to provide family, love and stability for orphans in Honduras. Gail was approached a few years ago to provide leadership in developing a Canadian Board that would partner through oversight, fundraising and support for the initiation of an organization called Casita Copan. She is treading new ground fearlessly. She is taking off to South America, independently and bravely. She is opening her heart fully and making new friends. She is using her determination and willfulness to accomplish tasks that would scare off anyone of less mettle than her.  

I have no doubt God made her for such a time as this. That is why I have peace.  I know God is using her to build his kingdom. I know she is right in the middle of his will for her. That is the safest place for her to be. 

I have no doubt that he gave her to me to prepare me for what he has called me to. I love her. I am proud of her. I am excited to see how God is and will use her. I am forever grateful that God gave me Gail. There just are no adequate words. Without her, I would not be me!

Jealous! For a Good Reason?

I know. It seems counter intuitive. When could jealousy ever be good?  I have had a number of conversations specifically this week. Some people I have talked with have been dreaming to live some where else. Some have had dreams they want to accomplish here. The result? I have felt jealous!

Let me explain.

It seems like people either love our city, or hate it.  People sometimes love it, but work opportunities may seem better in other locations. I don't like losing great people to that scenario. Some people struggle to love our city and can sometimes feel like they are just putting in time until they get out. Sometimes I wonder if people are wearing rose colored glasses. Glasses that make it seem like any where but here would be better. Sometimes I wonder if people know that they can do more than just survive a place until they leave. I also feel sad when people quickly dismiss the part our city had in their personal, academic or professional development. In a way dismissing us is looking down on us.

I see so much potential in our city. We have amazing people. I used to work at a salon downtown. It was frequented by business people who flew in periodically for work. All of them would comment on how friendly and amazing the people here are.

I get really exited when I hear people dreaming dreams for our city.  I love it when people embrace what we have to offer and choose to love our city well.  I am "over the moon" thrilled when people choose to dive in and give our city their best.

That is how I am jealous for my city.

I love the people and I love the recreation. I love what we as a city have to offer and I love our potential. I love how we could raise our family here. I love the sport, music and theater that has developed in our city.  I love the opportunities our kids have had. I love the families we have met and friends we have made. I love our city.

I am jealous for people of quality and vision to embrace our city and help us reach our potential. I am jealous when people are saving their best for some where else. I don't want people who have a lot to offer to go somewhere else. I want them to offer it here. I want people who have the skills and abilities to meet the needs of our community to use those skills here. For us, for our people, for our city. I love it when people have dreams for our youth or ideas that will provide opportunity and development for others.

I want people who think they are just passing through to dream big while they are here.  I want them to accomplish cool things now. Here, in our city. I don't want people to feel they have to wait for life to start. I want them to start living here. I want them to offer what they have to us and allow us to give back to them.

I am jealous for our city. Is it a good reason to be jealous? I am not sure, but it is how I am feeling.

All In: Here We Go Again!!

The church is made up of regular people. People who are striving to know Christ and follow him. People who are human and flawed. People doing the best they can and people who are trapped in patterns still struggling to be free. People who sometimes do what is right and sometimes do what is wrong. People who have been redeemed by the blood of Jesus. 

For the second Sunday in a row our church invited people to take a step of obedience.  People were invited to follow if the Spirit was leading them. They were called to baptism. Baptism is an outward symbol of an inner commitment. It is a sign. Like my wedding ring. It does not miraculously change us and free us from all that is wrong in our life. Baptism is a public declaration that Jesus is Lord of my life and it is my full intention to follow Jesus to the best of  my ability for all of my days. More people took that step today. The last two Sundays together saw 45 people walk in obedience. It has been incredible to witness!  

For all of our flaws and failures, God still moves. In spite of our limitations and our weaknesses, God still builds his church. I had the honour of watching a man who I have known since childhood choose to participate in baptism. The son of a man, who I used to babysit, was baptized today. Three precious young men, who we love as if they were our own, took that step of obedience today. So many precious, special people who I have gotten to know over the last years. They stood up and declared they are "All In with Jesus". My heart is so full that we have been allowed to be part of this body and witness this. It is truly beyond words. 

We love the team we serve with completely. We are privileged to work with people of such depth, humility and quality. As leaders we try to follow God and lead the church with integrity. I can only speak for Craig and I.  We are often alarmed by our limits and the weight of the task. We can get overwhelmed by areas where we feel we are failing or not making headway. We can get overwhelmed by our faults.

 It is days like these last two Sundays where we get to see God move in power. When we get to see people take steps of obedience and faithfulness. It is days like today that calm our fears. That reassure us. Even if we feel we are messing everything up, when we feel we are not enough, God is still at work. It is an incredible encouragement to witness people walk in obedience. It reassures our hearts. It reminds us we are only called to offer our best. We acknowledge our weakness and thank God for his faithfulness. It strengthens us to keep moving forward and keep seeking God's direction. 

It is moments like this where I am overcome with gratitude. This is were the action is. This is why we do what we do. The cost of following is worth it. In times like this I am humbled and overwhelmed that the Creator of the Universe asks us to follow. That he entrusts us with people who are dear to his heart. He invites us to be a part of something much bigger than ourselves.  When we have the courage to go where he goes, we get to see magnificent acts. We get to be a part of things we could never accomplish on our own. God is still building his church. When we dive 'All In", we get to see a bit more of God!

The Cost of Following

I have had the distinct pleasure of being together with our Junior and Senior Youth these last two days. A couple of months ago I was asked by our Youth Pastor if I would consider teaching. I am so thankful for the chance to be with them. This was the passage we looked at together.

Matthew 8:18-22 

When Jesus saw the crowd around him, he gave orders to cross to the other side of the lake.  Then a teacher of the law came to him and said, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.”

Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” Another disciple said to him, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” But Jesus told him, “Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.”

I knew as soon as I read it that God was going to "make" me do it. If you have ever had the Holy Spirit come to you and push you to do something, you know what I mean. I should have just emailed him back saying yes immediately. Instead I took time to look at my schedule, see what was happening, and pray about it. Now when I say pray about it I mean wrestle with God.  You may be familiar with this.

"But my kids are there, they don't want their Mom coming in on their time with friends!"
"I can't talk about Jesus without crying, no one wants to watch a 40 year old woman crying on stage."

"But I haven't talked to youth for over 15 years"

"This is a hard topic"

"I am not sure I can speak on it with integrity"

"But...(fill in the blank with any old rational)"

I can come up with a million excuses. 

Eventually I just emailed back and said I would do it. I am learning it is better not to spend too much time wrestling.  

I have prepared for months. I have been studying and praying about the scripture. Praying that God's word would transform all of us through it. As I did this my love for the young people grew. I am almost bursting with love for these youth. I got up to speak and was almost vibrating with it. 

We have had the pleasure and privilege of serving at our church a long time. This August it will be 20 years. Some of these kids I met when they were a day or two old. Some I rocked in the nursery while they cried for their Mama's. Some of these kids I played with in the toddler room and helped them up and down that blue elephant slide while we giggled with glee. I may have taught them Bible stories in children's ministry. I know them through my kids or through their parents. Even if I don't know them my heart is excited and full of love for them when I see them running through the halls of our church. 

It was an honour to be with them these last two days. I can see God is working and it is encouraging. 

Jesus has been on a whirlwind tour just before these verses. He has healed many people. A leper was cured. Just the power of Jesus' words healed a servant. He healed many from demon possession and illness. A crowd gathers. They are drawn to the power. They are attracted by his miracles and caught in the moment. They have never known anyone like him.

Riding the thrill of everything happening people want to align with him.  They are hoping some of that power will work in their favour. Jesus sees their hearts. He sees my heart.

A teacher of the Law, a spiritual leader says, "Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go!"  Jesus responds, basically saying "I have no place to lay my head, I have no place to call home." Will you follow me now? Jesus doesn't promise me physical comforts or even my physical needs. The Apostle Paul knew what it was to have plenty and what it was to be in want. He knew hunger and a full belly. 2 Corinthians 11:16-33 tells us all he endured to follow Jesus. God doesn't promise me comfort and safety or even a place to call home. This isn't my home. I am not supposed to get busy making myself comfortable here on earth. I am not supposed to make myself at home. I am passing through. He calls me to follow. I need to lay down my expectations of what I might get in this world.

This is hard for me. I am creative and aesthetic. I am like a raven, my eye is drawn to "shiny" treasures. These are distractions from what life to the full is.

Another disciple says "Let me go bury my father." Without missing a beat Jesus says "Follow me. Let the dead bury their own dead." Following Jesus comes before our social obligations and expectations. He may call us away from family. He may require you stay single when you want to marry. You may want two kids and he has chosen to give you five, or none. Are you willing to let go of your expectations? Will I let God be glorified through my life the way he wants to be glorified?  He didn't promise me those things. He doesn't owe me those things.

Following Jesus may cost me my expectations. Following may cost me what I think I deserve. It will at times cost me what I want. It will make me uncomfortable.  I wont always know the way or what is next. It will cost me my selfishness.

But what does it cost me if I don't follow?

It costs me being close to him. It costs me knowing him fully. It costs me becoming my true self. 

When our kids went off to school I started praying. I had time. I wanted to know what he would do with it. I thought maybe he would do something with my degree in Psychology. Maybe he wanted to work with my degree in Christian Ministry. No. He said, "You are going to be a Hairstylist."  I love academics! I would love to study  forever and get seven Doctorates!! No, I am cutting and coloring hair. At first this hurt my pride.  But you know what? God had a plan and I am loving it. With God, the ordinary becomes extraordinary. He takes cutting hair and makes it Kingdom Building. It is more than just hair. I get to listen to peoples lives, pray with them and for them. I get to be used by God to restore a feeling of dignity and beauty.  I get to watch him seep into the hearts of my clients and love on them through me, When I follow, I get to experience life to the full. I get to be where the action is. I get to be in the middle of the party. Everything else is dull in comparison. I am ruined now. Nothing but following Jesus is fulfilling anymore. This world leaves me dissatisfied. It disappoints. Only Jesus will do.  Whatever I have to give up to be where he wants me to be is worth it. The cost of following is worth it.

I follow because one day I will get to stand before my Savior. I will get to see him face to face. When I do, I want to hear the words "Well done, good and faithful servant."

I follow because I know I am passing through. I was made for Heaven. 

All In

I just got to watch my youngest declare he is "All in with Jesus." It is incredible to witness a child take a step of obedience. 

Right now I am having a hard time focusing my thoughts. This Easter weekend has been a whirlwind. Good and bad. Sorrow and joy. Crazy! It is crazy!   Easter is the biggest celebration for Evangelicals. Without it there is no point. It is the pinnacle moment in our faith.  It is powerful.

We knew God was up to something already on Maundy Thursday. It was the worst Maundy Thursday for our family in the history of Maundy Thursdays.  It continued into Friday. As a family, we tumbled into Easter Sunday through a confusion of turmoil and celebration.  Absolute chaos!

This morning our youngest woke up pacing. Agitated. Jumping out of his skin! It was hilarious. I asked him what was up and he said "Is there something special happening at church today?"  Thank goodness Craig came flying into the house. "Yeah! It's baptism." Connor wrestled with God all morning. Eventually I said "Buddy, the Spirit is on you!" 

We have been in this long enough to know there is opposition. We were experiencing it in our family. We were experiencing it as each service started this morning. Our speaker experienced it in his family and as he tried to sleep last night. 

God was preparing to move in the lives of people and opposition was trying to get in the way. We are in a battle. I know God raised people up to pray. God moved. He moved in power. We witnessed people walk in obedience today. Young and old. Many who have a special place in my heart and some I don't know. We are brothers and sisters in faith. Family.

In the last service I felt the urge to go ask my youngest Connor if it was a step he wanted to take. I asked him, "Do you want to be baptized?" He said "Yeah, I guess" and away he went. God urged me and it became clear later when I asked him, he said he just didn't know when he was supposed to go. 

This is my shy guy. My one who will do everything to not be the center of attention. The one who if at all possible will avoid public exposure. He stood up in front of a large group and declared his faith. This is so huge for him on so many levels!

Jesus died, taking the sin of the world on himself. The weight of all sin, for all time, on one man. The Son of God. His body was broken, his blood was spilled so we could receive forgiveness in full. 

It didn't end there. Today we celebrate his resurrection. He conquered death. Crushed the skull of the serpent. He rose again claiming victory over death. He overcame. He won. 

Romans 10:9-11 says, because if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes and thus has righteousness and with the mouth one confesses and thus has salvation. For the scripture says, “Everyone who believes in him will not be put to shame.”

God won today. There was opposition. Those who had the Spirit on them and took the step of obedience overcame. They chose to go for it.  All or nothing. It wasn't easy. It wasn't comfortable. It was a battle. They took a stand and made it known. They confessed Jesus is Lord and believe God raised him from the dead. He is faithful. They will not be put to shame. They are all in and they have chosen to stand with the one who gave his life for them and will keep them until that day when they get to see him face to face.  

Jesus is risen. He is risen indeed! 

Throw Me In The Tub!! Reflections on Maundy Thursday

Many years ago I saw a metal sculpture. It depicted the disciple Peter refusing to have his feet washed by Jesus. The one he respectfully and honestly called Teacher, Master, knelt before him like a servant. The artist powerfully portrayed the moment. I was deeply impacted. It stuck with me the whole day and as I contemplated the scene later I was overwhelmed and broken by it. 

The Son of God knelt before a fisherman and washed his feet. 

The Prince of Peace humbled himself like a servant and washed the feet of an ordinary man. 

The Lion of Judah got on the floor and gently wiped the dust from a humans feet. 

Humanity recoiled. 

The one who is impure draws back. 

How can the one who is Holy get on the floor and preform the act of a servant? 

How can a Prince preform the task of one who is the lowest? 

How can he who is the most powerful humble himself and behave as one who is meek and powerless? 

Jesus tells Peter “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.” To which Peter basically replies "then throw me in a tub and don't miss a spot!" 

Peter still doesn't grasp the plan, he doesn't understand. What he does understand is that he has never known any one like Jesus. He does know that life with Jesus is better than life without him. What he hears is that if he doesn't allow Jesus to preform this humble act, he will be cut off and have no part. That is not an option for Peter. He doesn't want just a little bit. Peter is all in. Don't just clean part of me Lord, clean all of me!!

Does Peter know it is not just his feet that are dirty? Is that why he says “not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!” Does he know of his need for forgiveness? Does he have a moment of clarity and realize how far he falls from hitting the mark? Is that why he asks that his hands and head be included? 

John 13 records these events.  This portion of the first verse hung onto me today "Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end."  Jesus then goes on to share communion with his followers, washes their feet and says "I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you." 

It isn't optional. I have been commanded to love others the way Jesus loves them. I have been commanded to humble myself and serve others. I have been called to serve as the lowest. To consider others as better than myself. I am to regularly participate in communion to remember what Christ sacrificed. I am to examine myself honestly and deeply.

I am so limited, so finite that I barely grasp the fullness of it. The sliver of truth that I manage to catch and the few moments I can hang onto it leave me completely laid bare.  

I am like Peter, horrified that Jesus would humble himself and sacrifice himself, for a rebellious people, for the likes of me. Then realizing how much I need to be part of what Christ offers and has planned. I feel like Peter. I want to yell "Not just my feet. Throw me in the tub, don't miss a spot!" I felt it so strongly recently when Craig and I were invited to a group. People were more hesitant to share their struggles, we could both feel it.  It took everything in me to keep my bottom in my chair. I had this enormous desire to jump up, and rudely interrupt the meeting to scream "Me too!!! I fall short too! I am a mess!"  I felt like telling everyone there that Craig and I are unworthy, we are no different.  We don't measure up. We are desperately dependent on God's grace too! The playing field is equal, we are all in need of redemption. We are works in progress. Just because we work as Pastor's doesn't mean we have it all together. God chooses the foolish in this world to shame the wise. That is us! Craig and I, we are part of the chosen foolish.

Maundy Thursday is set aside to reflect on these things. I open myself up to the pain of it all and ruthlessly examine asking God to bring into the light what needs to die in my life. So much needs to have the light shine on it. I am full of pride, selfishness, and all that is shameful. I want all of it cleaned. I want to jump in the tub and have it all wiped away. I want this so I can love the way he loves, serve the way he serves. I want to be clean.

But hope stirs, I know I don't need to jump in the tub. I know I just need my feet washed now and then. I know because I know the rest of the story. I know this because Sunday is coming!!