The Road to Forgiveness

You shouldn’t scream at senior citizens. 

It makes a good life rule don’t you think? In fact, I tell frustrated adult children that if their parent hasn’t changed a particular life pattern by the time they are 60, there is little chance for transformation.  “You might want to save your breath,“ I tell them “and alter your expectations.”  Sensible advice. 

This however, does little to explain my behavior last week.  Late Tuesday afternoon found me slogging through traffic on a road I detest.  The view is great but the traffic pattern is from Satan.  I was ten minutes into the drive when a car came out of nowhere and pulled a traffic maneuver so egregious several cars got cross and honked their horns. 

I am not a proponent of excessive horn honking.  Don't get me wrong, I will use it occasionally, but this was different.  The horn was useless because the horn can’t speak like I can.  It lacks a self-righteousness and fury that I find easily accessible. Which must be why I felt it a good time to start shouting, “Are you serious?  You have got to know better than that,” as I swerved to avoid being hit.  One more ridiculous maneuver from super-bad-driver-guy and I lost it.  I pulled up beside the vehicle to get his attention.  Surprised, he looked over at me as I waggled my finger and flapped my arms.  My 15 year old was dying in the front seat.  “Mom please!” she groaned weakly as she folded herself in half to become invisible.  “I’m only getting started!” I growled.  “Move!”  Super-bad-driver- guy was actually looking scared as he tried to inch away from my vehicle. I caught sight of him and information started to filter past my shield of sanctimonious grandeur. 

Senior…looking uncomfortable…wearing baseball cap…cap perched on his head in that crazy over 70 year old way… trying to run away from you in his vehicle…daughter on the floor…daughter starting driving lessons in a few months…is rolling down your window so he can hear you a really good idea..?    

“You are a psychopath!” I yelled in frustration and took to the left turn lane.  I expect he was thinking the same thing as he sped away to the chorus of car horns.  I had to get off the road and take a breather before I spontaneously combusted.  “Wow Mum,” says daughter “You’re a bit intense.”  I growled some more. 

To be honest my friend, the week went from there.  I was short tempered and angry at anything that was breathing.  No. That’s a lie.  The laundry in the house made me cross too and my blender broke.  You get the idea. I was caught in a funk.

It was at bible study a few days later that the Lord snapped me out of my indignant reign of terror.  Our opening talk was given by a woman who had recently visited the country of Rwanda.  She shared about her trip, the organization she traveled with and the people she met. 

Rwanda is an east African country and is known as the “Land of a Thousand Hills” due to its beautiful landscape. It is known in the west for the horrific genocide its population experienced in 1994.  Numbers vary, but it is estimated that between 500 000 – to 1 000 000 people died in from April to July of that year.  Our speaker had visited a Rwandan couple whose age difference was approximately 20 years.  He was 63 and she was 40.  My friend made a joke by way of gentle teasing, scolding him for "robbing the cradle.”  Her hosts corrected her with grace and dignity.  It was the genocide they explained.  He lost his entire family during that time, his wife and his children.  A large percentage of their generation was murdered.  Remarriage and the age difference was simply part of their reality in a country where approximately 20% of the population was removed.  Loss on an epic scale, staining the soil and psyche alike.  

Our speaker then mentioned that rebuilding is taking place and many who fled to neighboring countries were now returning.  Those whose families who had been murdered and those who had done the killing, looking to move home.  I honestly cannot remember the words she spoke, but I was struck by the impossibility of trying to live alongside those who had murdered friends and family.  The courage needed to keep going is indescribable. Everything in my life kind of shrunk down and shriveled as I thought about trying to live in such difficult circumstances. 

I was ashamed.  In my world, I can’t even get along with super-bad-driver-guy.

There are some things that we, as humans, cannot do without the help of God. Forgiveness strikes me as one of those things.  It contains the characteristics of the divine.  The ability to pick up and move forward after devastation and loss, are made possible by the grace He provides.  Granted, one doesn’t need to look halfway around the globe to find pain and anguish, though it never hurts to turn our eyes to another’s suffering.  Can I encourage you to spend some time in prayer this week for those who have experienced great loss? You might find that it helps to take the edge off your own turmoil and gives you the basis for gratitude again.

I’m praying for you this week.

xoxKaren   

P.S.  Even the carrots at my house were grumpy this week.   

Come Let Us Worship and Bow Down.

Hello Friend!

How was your week?  Are you resting?   I had to run to the store on Saturday and when I did, I realized there was going to be a football game on Sunday.  The upside is I didn’t need to make lunch: I ate samples while I shopped.  The downside was that 7000 of my closest friends were doing the same thing. 

I have to confess I find football confusing.  The game, the commentary, the rules, pretty much the whole sport.  The only part I understand is the snacking: you have to be ready to consume your body weight in cream cheese products on game day and your sodium intake should be high enough to entirely change your blood chemistry.  That part is simple.

There is one more thing I understand about football, you don’t punch people in this sport.  Punching is a Canadian thing hockey players do to each other to ensure no one gets overconfident and out of touch with their mortality.  Football players don’t punch.  They do fancy dances sometimes, but mostly they keep their hands to themselves unless they are trying to crush each other while chasing down the football.  You would be surprised how much time that takes up. 

See?  The more I explain what I know, the more difficult it becomes. 

It isn’t confined to the game either, my confusion I mean.  Even discussing the sport is riddled with nuance and complexity.  This week I have been wading through articles in pagan and Christian journals about hero worship and how it affects our communities.  From the churches who acknowledge the games and try to incorporate the football culture, to the congregations who believe faith and football are at odds, and all the positions in between.  It can be a brutal discussion.

Truth is, hero worship isn’t confined to football.  We, as people, are made to worship.  Stick a 4 year old in front of a screen and watch how an imaginary character can take over a psyche.  Stick a 34 year old in front of the same screen and flip it a show of interest and watch the same thing happen.  It’s overwhelming.  When does something I enjoy become an idol? 

The best talk I ever heard on the subject stated that you can tell if something is an idol by what you sacrifice to it.  Medieval though it sounds, it was an interesting discussion.  What do I sacrifice to the thing I love?  Family time? Money? My to-do list?  Peace of mind?  I was to about to give up my quest for truth/self-improvement to take a nap when I happened upon a helpful scripture.   

Jesus is quoted in the Gospel of John,

But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father is seeking such people to worship him. Jn 4:23

I think it takes us back to the fruit of the spirit.  Everything you ever need wrapped up in a Sunday school song. The question becomes, does the time you spend on your activity yield the right fruit?  Does bring you closer to Jesus and your devotion to him?   

Love – not hate

Joy – not sadness

Peace – not anxiety

Patience – not impatience

Kindness – not meanness

Goodness – not bad tempered

Faithfulness – not inconsistency

Gentleness – not aggressive

Self-control – not lawlessness

As I write this, my friend has informed me her football team has lost and she is going into mourning.  She suggests her life might be over, though between you and I, she is prone to exaggeration.  I am sad as well, because this means I will not be going to her house anymore on Sundays to eat the tasty snacks she makes for company.  However, as a well-balanced church lady, I know she will bounce back after the appropriate amount of forgiveness and deliverance work.  I hope you too, rebound from your losses and spend some time in worship.     

So glad we serve one who cannot be defeated.

Praying for you this week,

xoxKaren

Fires and Failure

It was when she brought out the diesel fuel that I began to get nervous.  I expect Jess to do mildly dangerous things on a frequent basis but our relationship had never been tried by fire accelerant before.  Moving the nozzle on the hose to “JET STREAM” and readying my fingers on the handle I scolded, “I think this might be a really bad idea.”  “Don’t be so nervous,” was the retort.  “My dad used to clear land when I was a kid, we had bonfires that lasted for days.”  I paused, caught in that weird place where someone provides reasoning that proves your original point, not theirs.  “Umm, like I said, I’m not sure of the wisdom of this.” “Live a little, oofff…” she grunted and she hauled the canister off the ground and tipped it at the same time.  “After all, we are making memories…”

A weekend on the peninsula was just the thing to lift my spirits after returning to my regular schedule. I wanted to visit with this family for 4 months before the right time presented itself.  Jess and I catch up every couple weeks but her recent move means we need to get intentional if we want to connect.  I packed the car and hopped the ferry with excitement.  A weekend with Jess means copious amounts of tea, masses of healthy food and a fair amount of chocolate to boot.  (Healthy: ridiculously so.  One day I stopped in at lunch time and her children were eating oven-roasted carrots.  Carrots.  Roasted.  In the oven... for lunch.  You might not be able to see me, but I’m looking meaningfully at you.)

I am pleased to report my girlfriend did not set fire to the farm house or any of the outbuildings.  However, I learned that she has a threshold for excitement that far exceeds my own: one of the reasons I enjoy her company.  Truth demands I tell you that whenever we get together, something will go wrong.  This is after all the woman who accidentally drove up to the naked barista coffee stand with a car full of children (Costly Coffee, Nov 2014).

Minor miscommunication meant our arrival at her house coincided with the commencement of winter basketball league. Being versatile, we took two cars and split the children up.  I got the older girls and she took the rest.  She would go to the gym and I would meet her there an hour and half later.  We waved goodbye and headed into town.  The town itself was delightfully small.  The girls and I putzed about as dusk fell and the shops closed up for the evening.  After our allotted time was coming to a close, we jumped in the car and headed for the gym. 

We would have headed for the gym if the gps on my phone was being agreeable.  Apparently, it was having an off day and decided to send me to the wrong location.  I fussed at it, forgave it and started off for our destination a second time.  Wrong location.  Now would be a good time to mention that one of the differences between large and small towns is the amount of light when darkness falls.  There wasn’t any.  The stars were gorgeous but I would have given a great deal for a bunch of neon lighting at that point, anything to act as a landmark.  I didn’t know the area and it was clear my phone didn’t either.  It was lying its screen off.  Faced with a decision, I gave in and called Jess to confess I was lost.  It wasn't the first time.  Strangely, she didn’t answer her phone.  Deciding to strike out on my own, I left the incredibly dark field where the stars shone brightly in order to find the gym.  I continued to call my friend and she continued to ignore my calls.  After 15 minutes, we happened upon a streetlight and as luck would have it there was a strategically placed street sign.    Five more minutes and I was pulling into the parking lot.  Jess called as I put the car in park. Better late than never.

She apologized for not answering her phone.  It wasn’t intentional, the littles distracted her and she locked her phone and keys in the car.  She had to borrow a stranger’s cell phone and call the auto center to request someone come out and unlock it.  It had taken a while, but here she was and did I need anything? I thanked her for being no help whatsoever and found her in the gym three seconds later. 

That evening, I was reflecting on the mix up.  Two people, needing help, unable to meet the need of the other.  Does that sound familiar?  Marriage, friendship, and work all provide opportunities for mishaps.  Sometimes life happens hard and we get bruised.  In our need, we cannot meet the needs of others.  Demand outstrips supply and we are left feeling uncared for, unsupported and unloved.  Intentional or not, there is a place to turn when such thoughts and feelings surface.

For he delivers the needy when he calls,

the poor and him who has no helper.

He has pity on the weak and the needy,

and saves the lives of the needy.

From oppression and violence he redeems their life,

and precious is their blood in his sight.

Psalm 72:12-14

Even when life happens my friend, the Lord’s eye is on you.  Hardship and silence must not be interpreted as neglect and unkindness.  You are loved.  His eye is upon you.  My prayer is that we meet the needs of others this coming year and in doing so, that our eyes may be opened to his faithfulness when the fires burn hot.

I’m praying for you this week,

xoxK

P.S.  Thanks for the wonderful weekend friend.  You are amazing.  

Waning and Waxing

I’m not sure if it was the waning moon or my waxing blood sugar that caused my insanity on the 31st of December.  All my regular partners in crime were busy elsewhere so a quiet evening at home seemed logical.  New Year’s isn't too high on my list of celebrations so I wasn’t distressed at the thought.  I purchased some treats and the children chose a movie.  We were ready for our own little party.  

New Year’s is a unique holiday.  An event denoting the passage of time, containing an ending and a beginning wrapped in a 60 second countdown.  The changeover presents the hope of a new season regardless of whether circumstances warrant.  It was while pondering such profound and philosophical thoughts that I suddenly decided ripping apart the children’s rooms and cleaning the pantry was a good idea.  Getting things organized to get back to school was my thinking I expect.  

I’m not a smart person.

The girls set to work on their closets and I started the demolition on my kitchen.  Within a short amount of time, my kitchen floor disappeared and I was faced with meaningful, life changing questions like: 

Do I throw out these sesame seeds that have been in my pantry since my daughter was 2?  
What is the half-life of canned frosting?  
Can dried beans actually go stale?
Do I have a poverty spirit because I keep extra ketchup packets?
What exactly would Jesus do with all the twist ties I’ve been saving…. 

I wiped shelves, shuffled cans and stacked noodles for a long while.  Glancing up, I realized that although my pantry was getting cleaner, the kitchen looked awful, there were bags and boxes everywhere.  The counters had joined the floor in a game of hide and seek and I wasn’t clear exactly where all the stuff was going to go.  My enthusiasm for my project was diminishing yet the messes I had created were still before me.  In fact, there were several child disasters I had sanctioned in the adjoining rooms.  What was I thinking?  

Ever felt that way my friend?  Been in a mess or a muddle and unclear how things were going to turn out?  Many people face the New Year with a layer of uncertainty just below the celebration.  There are circumstances before them they would rather avoid and situations they cannot solve.  Where then, is the hope for the New Year?

While praying with a friend recently, I started to recount some of the issues she has walked through in the past 22 years.  It was a fairly amazing list.  Again and again, she faced situations that seemed impossible yet solutions appeared and the problems faded.  What about you dear heart?  If I asked you to make a list of problems you have overcome in the past ten years, what would you write?  Are you still standing?

When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears

    and delivers them out of all their troubles.

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted

    and saves the crushed in spirit.

Many are the afflictions of the righteous,

    but the Lord delivers him out of them all. Ps 34:17-19

The steps of a good man are ordered by the LORD, and He delights in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down; for the LORD upholds him with His hand. Psalm 37:23-24

At the beginning of this New Year, may I encourage you to get a bit bossy with your fear and uncertainty?  Consider where you have been, the challenges you have faced and the victories you have won.  Feel free to get hyper spiritual or mildly prophetic.  Take off your shoes, plant your feet and declare, “God has seen me though this far, He will get me home.”  (Don’t get ultra-weird and scare your neighbors please, we don’t need that kind of help.)  Our God has seen the rise and fall of years, ages and eons my friend.  This year holds nothing that will surprise Him or catch Him off guard.  You are safe in his care and His eye is upon you.

May you be blessed through the joys and sorrows of this coming year.

I’m praying for you,
xoxKaren