Slow Me Down, Lord

I took this picture, one Sunrise in Cowichan Bay, on Vancouver Island. I wish every day could start this way; peacefully with cup of tea on the balcony of a restful hotel, enjoying the view. But,the quote reflects my life and is more realistic. Sometimes even when I want to quieten my soul, it's a struggle. To find that place at the feet of Jesus, like Mary, rather than banging around in the kitchen, like Martha requires that we cherish the moment. Living a reflective life, I've found, takes a concentrated effort to slow down, to value times of Bible reading and prayer, and to be committed to putting God first, each and every day. I fail often, but each day is a new day to begin again.

Psalm 16, A Prayer

Apart from you, Father

I have no good thing.
Many run, endlessly seeking
In futile search
For that which satisfies
Snippets of pleasure
Is their lot
Brief moments of release.

But I choose to set you before me Lord,
And you have promised to lead me on your life path
Yes, there are your boundary lines:
Not constrictive as some might conceive,
But a loving tracing
Etched in life blood  
Boundaries pleasant as country lanes
With summer hedgerows
Verdantly thick
Where songbirds nest and daffodils grow.
Each turn of a corner adds delight:
New encounters

This is the pattern of your life paths I travel
Even in times of trouble, you stand reliant and true
Time and again, this I know well.
Your ramparts shield me

At night or when thick blackness weighs heavy
You speak, and counsel me
Therefore, I need never be shaken.

Small Things

Zechariah 4:10

Who despises the day of small things? Men will rejoice when they see the plumb line in the had of Zerubbabel.

Life is a smorgasbord of small things. Everyday choices, seemingly insignificant: routine days, ordinary chores, unremarkable activities. As much as we’d love to do things on a grand scale, measuring success in the eyes of ourselves and others, our own lives often seem rather meaningless. We look at the lives of others who exemplify greatness to us as we plug along with common routines in our workaday world.

But God reminds us not to despise the small things in our lives, and not to measure our actions by the world’s standards, but to use his measuring tool – the plumb line of presence. His measure should be our starting point, where all our activities can branch from.  

Do you allow him to gauge the worth of your routines? What of the apparent interruptions in your day, or the detours that waylay your time? Do you see them as annoyances or divine interventions? I admit that I often see such times as a hindrance to my plans, missing the mark of their relevance.

God reminds us not to despise the small things in our lives. With the power of his plumb line we can let go of our measured expectations and gauges of worthiness and allow our Father to weigh the value of our routines.

Many years ago, I attended the funeral of a mother who had left behind a husband and four children, half grown. This woman wasn’t academically brilliant, or career minded, had never travelled far, and by the worlds, standards may not have amounted to much. But her life had been nothing short of astounding. For you see her faithfulness in the small things, and a commitment to nurture those that God had placed in her path has produced a lasting value.

How many of us look at the lives of people like Mother Theresa with her love of humanity with awe wishing we could be like that, and yet, if you took just one day in the life of Mother Theresa what would it have looked like?

Rising early, dressing, prayer, cleaning, changing filthy dressings, a word here or there for the sick, paying bills, preparing food, cleaning vomit from the steps or feces from the sick, busy till dusk, tired, maybe lonely or discouraged by the endless need. Not a very glorious day by human standards, is it!

But God measures our activities with the plumb line of eternity.

God, thank you, that small things matter to you. Small children, changing diapers, playtimes, preparing meals, paying bills, routine jobs all matter. May they matter to me too Lord. May I use your measure of their worth rather than my own. Forgive me, when I hurry by on the other side of the road without stopping to value the small things that you set before me today. Help me to build upon the plumb line that is you each and every day. Amen.

The Power of Words

Psalm 12

He is by his nature, continuously articulate. He fills the world with His speaking. A.W. Tozer

1.      Where are the faithful ones Lord? Those whose word still carries any measure of weight.

2.      I’ve experienced liars, words full of deception, and those, spieling empty flattery.

3.      Then there’s the boastful. I’ve known them too. (Lord I confess and recognise that my own words too have lied flattered and boasted and randomly. I’ve spoken words: batted them back and forth like a ball on the tennis court. Hard words, wacked here and there. Seldom have I stopped and considered their weight.

4.     Some say that positive thinking will lead us to great heights, where in this human age we will stand upon the heights of our own words taller than before. Masters of our own spoken creation.

5.      Then there’s the words of the oppressed. Those who can only groan

6.      These are words that you hear Lord. You listen to them.

7.      The writing process is full of revisions, edits and refinements, isn’t it Father?

8.      And you say that your words have also been carefully selected, and are refined in a furnace, not just once but seven times. Seven, the number of perfection. You say, that your words are perfect. Without malice or pride, without flattery or spoken flippantly but, chosen with great care.  Only your words are truth and can be trusted.

Nothing in the Bible is randomly written. I believe this Lord, because your word has born the test of life’s experiences and time.

9.      Amid this world’s ugliness, your spoken words still stand firm. Please help me Lord, each day, to only climb the heights, standing on the promises of your words: listening, learning, and becoming more like you. Only then, will I learn to be more careful when and how I speak with others.

Refugee Prayer

Lord I pray for those who need a homeland.

The displaced wanderers of our world who have lost all that was familiar and who have received nothing in return: except for fading hope, refugee camps and family members forever lost to them.

Have you not said in your word, Lord, that you place the solitary in families? and in so doing, please Father, grant them a land of their own. One where the red tape runs out.

Where lives are made legal.

With identity and belonging.  

Valued by all of us, just as they are also precious to you.

A home where running may cease, and gardens have time to flourish.  

National anthems sung, and votes valued.

And in the night stillness, the sound of guns and screaming are not heard. Fear of rejection and of being sent back be erased from sleep. 

Where someone, somewhere validates their worth and warm friendship is a sure expression of your great love for them.

Give them shelter I pray Oh Lord.

In safe harbours’ may your healing balm wash away all fear and tears.

And may I be a willing fragment; an answer to my own prayer.

HEBREW - How Great is our God / Gadol Elohai by Joshua Aaron in Jerusalem

God is Love

My friend says that hearts always remind her of God's love. She sees them in nature: rock hearts, heart shaped leaves and, I guess, any time God wants to remind her of his love.

I made a latte last week and dumped out the steamed milk on the top, only to see a heart. I took a picture and sent it to my friend, because for sure, it was meant for her.

Today, I was given a handmade Valentine by Neil,  a little boy that I work with. He can hardly write, but he'd gone to much care to create a card. He wouldn't let me watch him make it. It had to be done in secret because it was so special.  For the last week, he's been so excited to see me open it. Every day, he's been asking, "is it Valentine's Day yet?" Crumpled and smudged, It's the best Valentine I've ever had, because it came from his young heart. It meant so much to me.

This evening, God asked me if I'd give him my heart. My heart is pretty smudged and tattered but the Father asked me if he could have it. So I gave my heart, as best I could. I saw him take it and gently laying it close to his breast, he smiled. It was then that I realized how much he loves, even though in my eyes, I'm pretty shabby. I realize that somehow my Valentine from Neil and my heart surrender to God are one in the same. To share love, to give and receive love is the best of all gifts.