My Dearest Mildred

I visited you at the hospice tonight. You didn't recognize me right away. I brought you my bright yellow tulips someone gave me at work to try and cheer up my week. You were delighted.


Mildred, you are so dear to me. Your frail body, skin and bones. Your eyes are of the sheerest of glaciers with tiny pin holes of black.


We spent over an hour chatting tonight. I'm so glad to report that you haven't lost your spunk Mildred. You're feisty under all that charm that's recently surfaced. You know where you are, and when you mention small things like changing places with the dogs that came to visit, I don't think you were entirely joking.


Your time is coming close Mildred. I will miss you dearly. I will miss your wittiness, your curse words (even though its hard to hear), I will miss the little sparkle in your eyes when we talked about shoe shopping. Oh how you loved to buy yourself beautiful things Mildred. You would show me the jeweled shoes and fancy new dresses you would buy yourself in hopes that someone would ask you out for the New Year's Dance.


Will you be ready Mildred?


I wonder what went through your mind as we sat today. You had vanilla ice cream with strawberry topping. You said your son has a strawberry farm in Toronto and that you want to go pick some in August when they're ripe. I don't think you'll make it Mildred. I'm so sorry to say that.


I watched your eyes as you talked and stared every so often outside, with a contemplative look, what I'm assuming is a look of realization of where you are and what this all means. I know you know. Your mind is sharp Mildred. Cancer is just taking over your frail body at this point. You've had to let it win after all. The only thing cancer cannot take is your soul. That is promised to God.


I don't want to say goodbye to you Mildred. I don't want to experience the void at your table. Others are already filling the seat in your absence. I almost wish they wouldn't, but I suppose life goes on for the rest of us. Unfairly it seems.


Please don't let today be the last time I see you. I promised with conviction to come back and see you as you asked me to. I pray to God that I can spend more time with you and bring you some sort of  companionship and give you part of my life to find peace where you are.


Love deep within my heart for you my ole Mildred. xxoo

Check In/Check Out : Anytime/Anytime

I have a relentless desire to express the deepest thoughts of my soul but I rest unsure of the roots of their birth and thus, it is with hesitation to come to the page today. It isn't quite clear what I wish to say. A mix of deep emotions mix and melt around my very core, without a defined path to lead them. There lingers a fog that hides the true captions of my heart it seems. I sit in wonder and captivity of my own chaotic thoughts, hoping, trusting that something will eventually come out from beneath the grey that cloaks its very essence.


Hear my Prayer, O Lord.


There is a hush over my soul, a stillness over the land and a quietness that leaves your thoughts to fight through the humming of your mind. Let's then, just get into this.


Today marks the first day of her journey. A time for her; to discover what God wills for her; her purpose for at minimum the next 14 days. It marks a time for me, to begin on the journey of pure trust in our God and this will He has entitled her to.


12, 254 km between us seems nearly equivalent to eternity. This distance is merely an earthly factor however, as I know our hearts will be next to each other the whole time. She's excited she says. She holds God close to her and has trust in her heart that He will stay with her. I seemingly, have more doubt than she when it comes to trust. I am living with a nervous fear but it remains un-birthed as a consideration for her well being.


I try and imagine their faces with the joy and excitement of an outsider, a visitor amongst them. I imagine that Jesus will be there, looking through those same eyes, watching her every move, seeing how she looks back at Him. She will without a doubt look into the eyes and soul of Christ during the next two weeks of her life. But, not only will she see Him, but He will be seen. He will be everywhere, in every gesture, in every gift, showing His compassion and mercy, over and over and over.


This will be a challenge in one way, for I to live my daily routine, knowing that she is so far away. She holds a permanent portion of my soul as my sister. I will not rest fully until she returns. God bless her, and a multitude of prayers, miracles and mercies be with her during this most incredible trip to Kolkata, India.


All my love to my sister.
xxoo (e-hugs dude)

Dance, and let her dance...

Coffee's on. There's dishes in the sink and a sketchbook on the counter. I can't help but wonder if there's any creative doodles inside. I peek. Creative doodles there is but only one, but what's of interest even more is a list. A long list. It's dated recently, so I know it's fresh. A list of creative brainstorming ideas to what looks like some way of generating money from what she's passionate about most. Sounds like a more than familiar road I've been down too numerous times to count in my life.

It hits me. I've become what I hate the most. I've bound and tied her creativity with the ropes of reality. I've become the voice of reason in which I despise.

Dance, and let her dance...

It's an emotional realization that I am doing to her what I have lived my entire life trying to avoid; other peoples idea of my reality. I've called them "bubble bursters" or "wet blankets" and am akin to their ways. They aren't ways of error, but on the contraire. They are realistic ways of living life. They make sense, they're stable in their structure, and they're safe. They come from a place of concern, love and often times frustration for being witness to those of us who choose to live our realities a little less conventionally, a little more wreckless.

She's dying to be who her spirit tells her to be.
There is a connection with her.
I've felt what she feels.
I've lived what she's living.
I've hated what she hates.
I've become our worst enemy.
I've stifled her.
I've put out my own flame, I am my own wet blanket.
I am dousing her fire and extinguishing her flame.
She is my inspiration, my greatest teacher.
Be of stout heart, be brave, be courageous.

Dance.

Let me dance. Let me be who I want to be.
Let my spirit roar... let it soar... untie my chains and let me float free.
It's who God intended me to be.

Let her dance.
Let her go.

"Sometimes to self-discover, you have to self-destruct". AZ

What Are We Missing

There are just some things in this life that you cannot replace or do without. Things that weave their way into the fabric of our core, things that are seeded and sewn from times gone by into our most precious memories.

 

On a recent walk I realized and experienced a multitude of these precious gifts. Not only did they immediately send me back to my childhood, but they helped me realize how this life, the world we live in, just isn't the same anymore.

 

Long gone are the times of playing outside, or even just walking to your destination. Long gone are the many sounds and smells of things outdoors. We were given five senses that God figured we needed to survive as a human race. During this recent adventure, these same five senses came alive with passion, yet sadness.

 

What began as a simple way to get some exercise by walking to and from work, turned into an invigorating and exquisite adventure. Let me recap some of these things we all seem to be missing while we drive everywhere we need to go, when we live with earplugs firmly planted inside of our ears, or the things we miss while looking down at a cell phone for what amounts to be hours in a single day. Perhaps you can remember a time when you experienced some of these same phenomena's, of what we called in the old days.... the outdoors.

 

1.) The sound of rain on an umbrella while underneath it

2.) The smell of that rain on the different matter in which it falls and soaks itself into

3.) Fresh air breezing by your skin

4.) The sound of sand under your running shoes on the sidewalk

5.) The familiar and particular smell of a myriad of different weeds that you once played in

6.) The look of a dark tree trunk against a green grassy landscape

7.) The fact that your feet can literally take you anywhere you want to go

8.) Being wet from the rain (including getting a soaker or two) (You do know what a soaker is don’t you?)

9.) The thought of pushing yourself just a little further so you can say "you did it"

10.) The many sights to see along your walk; people's smiles, colourful flowers, running streams

 

The list is exhaustive and could never be contained here. Some of the simple pleasures in life are taking notice of the land we live in. It appears that we may be headed down a road that includes none of the above. It appears that perhaps the only things that we will eventually be sensing will be from electronic devices and computer generated imagery. What a sad place to live in when the world will no longer know what cursive handwriting is. They have already begun to take this out of our schools. What will happen to our electronic world when we simply run out of resources to power what we need to communicate with, to live? Will we be submerged into the dark ages where hieroglyphics will be our only means of talking to each other? Will our children's children ever experience any of the things we have grown up with?

 

I understand it is an evolving world, that times do change, and that the things I speak of will eventually be called classics, or historical. I welcome change, but contrary to most people, I welcome the reverting of a society back to the basics, where playing outside, skipping in the rain, picking worms and playing in dirty creeks were the ways of life. I would be remised if I didn't at least try and hold on to what seemed so normal at one time, but now seems so fragile and at risk of being erased forever.

 

 

 

Moments in Time

"Time", as it is relevant to each of our lives, is something so very elusive in its ability to capture and maintain the literal moments of itself. I suppose this is the very explanation that describes the near frustration of the impossibility of freezing those moments in time that are most precious to us.

Reflecting back on a recent vacation to the Weston Priory Monastery in Vermont, the experience is still so clear in my mind, but so hard to believe that its already over. When I contemplate the moment that I sit in now, writing, trying to describe what I learned over my week stay with the brothers, I can't help but remember the thoughts I was having before I left. Those moments where I questioned and wondered what to expect; those moments of "am I really going to do this"; those moments of excitement and fear of the unknown all at the same time. And in no time at all, I have journeyed from one moment to the next, filling those small individual timeslots with a vast array of experiences, which ultimately all add up to...my life.

Our time here is, I believe, meant to be spent doing the simple things in life, the things that truly matter, the things that give us peace inside, and that make other people happy and bring them joy. Since our time is limited, and of course, each of us does not know quite how limited, I think, as many others have said, we mustn't waste our time worrying about things that are of no value or that provide no benefit to someone else.

After a mere nine days since my return from the Priory, I still hold so many of the memories close to my heart and even more so, in the foreground of my day. I have implemented some of the practices I had witnessed into my day to day activities, as my guarantee in maintaining some sort of similarity of what I experienced then, to what I endure today. I have realized that prayer is of the utmost importance in my day to day life. Prayer brings the peace of Christ inside my soul, prayer helps me focus on what is truly important in life, it reminds me of times of calmness and serenity. Our brothers were proof that a life of consistent prayer, in all that we do, along with the elimination of excessiveness, will bring you so close to the Holy Spirit, you no longer belong to or are slave to this world and its vices and maladies. Your heart, mind and soul belong to Christ, and there is simply no reason to spread yourself anywhere else or for anyone else.

We all must make choices in our lives. We all have desires of what we want our lives to be, what we envision our lives to entail, but until we make a conscious effort to decide, implement and practice these changes, we will be no further ahead than we were last week. It's about understanding the impact that some things have on us in our life. It's about being aware of these impactful experiences, so we can try and understand what direction they may be leading us. It's about putting into practice those things that we know will benefit our lives and those lives around us.

There are many moments that I wish I could freeze in time, as we all do. If for some reason, that is not of my control, I can no longer remember those precious moments, let me always be hopeful that I have tried to capture their essence in my writings.

Blurred Beauty

A reflection of one self can sometimes be seen in and through our encounters with other people. This awareness of self is often seen through the eyes of another, by the alarming accuracy in their description of whom they see sitting before them. I have had one such encounter. Her name was Faiza. Not only after a very brief, yet animated introduction of myself, did she seem to understand my joys and struggles, but she also had the ability to paint the most accurate and colourful picture of exactly who I am, through her eyes. In this reflective state of one self comes amazement, yet fear, surrounded by awe in account of her ability to describe within a few minutes, what has taken you a lifetime to create.

It has been my journey, to discover and accept who I have become in God and because of God. This person, with which I am being shaped and moulded, is an eternal reflection of my surroundings and environment and those who influence my choices and thoughts. I am merely a reflection of their care, their love and their forgiveness. I have come to know in the depths of my soul, that God has graced me with His beauty and love. He has adorned me with talents and gifts, all to the glory of His name. With explosive passions and magical flight, I live my life surrounded by the bubble of protection, surely borne of God Himself. A romantic view of loving kindness, I give to the world what my eyes and heart cannot contain; God’s purest love and joy.

As part of our human self, we are forever changing, building from one experience to the next. Some reflections are not so favourable, some, not so forgiving. I speak of the natural controlling and planning persuasions that were at the forefront of the day. Every single thought was planned and carefully calculated only to be followed with the constant reminder to “Let go and let God”. Within moments failure would become us, and obsessive control would prevail. We would find ourselves planning something once again. Anything. We were mere reflections of each other.

The reflection in his eyes bodes softness like no other, a kindness that permeates the hardened walls of your heart. It is of a God whose soul expels Mercy and Grace, and is reflected in his humanness, humility and service. He is the Priest.

The simplest of men, with eyes closed, in prayerful thought, they sing praises of joy and peace. They have devoted their lives to the love of God, their every thought, every thanksgiving, every desire. They are the sheer reflection of a most merciful and loving God. In their small nods of thanksgiving, their slowness of breath, their patience and peace, we can only pray that the Lord our God transforms our lives in its complicating madness, into a mere fraction of what they reflect.

It is in the blurred reflection of the tree that sits on the edge of the pond, that we can be forever grateful to our beloved God, for showing us the beauty we all possess. He has taken our stark branches, in their rawness and transformed them into the soft reflections of who He is, through His eyes.

In service.

Washing of the Feet

We have all had prayers and petitions we ask of God. There is a myriad of material things we seek, we also ask for guidance and patience and forgiveness... and the list goes on. It seems at some point within our eternal act of asking, that it will never end, our selfishness, our constant self-centeredness. But we only pause on that thought for a moment, until yet another "need" comes to mind and we quickly fire that prayer up there as well.  But that's okay, because God (Jesus) told us to ask right? Yes, he did in fact tell us..."ask and ye shall receive". Now I'm pretty sure that He wasn't necessarily referring to that fancy new car or the beautiful pair of Italian leather boots (boy do I wish He was though)...I'm sure He was referring to those prayers of deep, the desires of our hearts, the ones with clear motives and goodness at their core. Yes, those ones. The ones that are born of purity and selflessness, sometimes that come in a flash of a moment, only to be forgotten a short time after. The ones that take a passionate glimpse at our heart, only to be whisked away into the reality of our next moment. But yes, those special prayers, that we "know" He hears, and He answers.


So. I've had one of those special prayers answered this Holiest of nights. Today is Holy Thursday. In the Catholic Church we celebrate the Lord's Supper and the Washing of the Feet. As a returning Catholic a few years ago, I only recently re-learned of this special event in the church. As our priest explains, it is the time when Jesus washed the feet of all twelve apostles the night before he was betrayed. The activity of washing the feet is a two fold event. There are those who do the washing and those who receive it. No big deal right? Wrong!


It is usually very simple to serve others. We are ingrain to help others and to give them what we can. It is an entirely different thing to have someone serve you. A very humbling experience to say the least.


Most people will jump at the chance to have someone serve them. Bring us coffee, bring us food, serve our gas, pick up our dishes... this list is eternal also. The serving I am referring to is brought to you with humble hands and feet, with a heart of compassion, submission and love. On the receiving side, the gracious man/woman accepts someone to serve them only because they can humble themselves and allow the other person to do something nice for them. Service also comes with many different faces, husbands serve their wives, and wives, their husbands. To enable yourself to accept "help" (or service from someone) strips you of all pride. This is a much needed characteristic in our lives. It's referred to as "humility".


Someone so very special in my life, on bended knee, picked up a water jug and washed my feet tonight. On this Holiest of Thursdays, where our Lord knelt in front of His men, He humbled himself to wash the feet of others, thus as He did, it was done to me.


Today marks a day of shotgun blows to the ego (pride) and having more than one occasion where humility was required. The act of humility is one that is voluntary. It is not the same as being humiliated where this is not by your own free will, or choice. Humbling yourself in front of others, is a conscious act, that you must choose to do. You consciously make the choice that will fire another round at your ego, and eventually will leave your pride shredded and wide open.


I can't thank God enough and His blessed Holy Spirit, for answering my prayers tonight. For allowing me to wash the feet of the one I cherish most, but even more so for the gentle nudge He sent to him that brought us up to the altar to begin with. I prayed he would just take me by the hand, lead me to the basin, direct me to sit down and to drop my guard and allow him to serve me.


And it happened just like that. A prayer answered. Thank you God.


In Service,

All From Beneath the Cedar Trees

There is this place that I've had my eye on since I came. It seems to call to me for some unbeknownst reason. I've walked past it many times, and each time it seems to encourage me beneath its canopy. It offers a place of comfort, of warmth but mostly of security. There doesn't seem to be anything that I couldn't accomplish there. It seems to me to be a place where thoughts are welcome to flow as freely as the sparrows and the wind would somehow miss you.

Today was the day to visit this place, and I was right in everything I thought it would be. I have experienced it from one point of view only thus far, yet there are three other points of view I anticipate experiencing. However, these I cannot rush, nor control. I have no choice but to allow them to come when they are ready as I await their arrival with an unwilling patience.

The thoughts that flowed were certainly welcomed and streamed like the wind beneath the sparrow's wing. One thought to the next, they danced and followed each other, twisting and turning at each point they faced. They made sense to me; they seemed to be the most important thoughts of the day. I wished to capture their essence in my memory to later record them here. As it usually comes to turn, I've forgotten some of them; I've misplaced their immediate connection that made them flow so easily. But one thing I did not mistake is their lasting emotional effect on my soul. They linger with me still, and have created a heightened sense of gratitude for their ability to sooth and excite me at the same time.

They brought me to love the creation of trees. To have the ability to create trees. There are no judgments within the tree, you cannot say it is wrong in its directional limbs. They stretch and turn at any angle and reach for their salvation. I can allow them to live as they wish, I can create them to be who I want them to be, with no fear of being judged for the life I've given them. This is the incredible freedom of creation.

From there, I connected the fear of being judged. I have grown to believe that an unfinished work cannot suffer the realm of judgment since it is incomplete. And only when it is complete, do I give you permission to judge it. I have become accustom to leaving most of my works of art incomplete. It does give me a sense of failure, a sense of something outstanding that must be done, which speaks of anxiety to some level. Only some of the pieces that adorn my walls have been completed. Funny thing about those is that they, at some point in their career of becoming a masterpiece, had already been deemed a "dud". They never had a chance did they. Yet, they are the ones that are complete and considered my most prized creations. Something to think about....which got me to thinking...

The ability to be able to think creatively is one thing, but allowing yourself to do it is entirely another. The gift we give ourselves by saying its "okay" to do nothing, is truly a liberating experience. I've decided to do just that for the next 30 days. I believe this will have an enormous impact on my well-being and well...my creative abilities.

From the chair I've prepared, I gaze upwards, to see the tangled limbs, the snow that rests upon them, and the sparrows that call this sacred place their home. I thank thee for inviting me in little one, and I look forward to listening to your stories, all from beneath the cedar trees.

Signed,
A creator.

A Prayer of Repentance

There comes a time in your life when you no longer are who you were. Thank God.
A time in your life when you've gained just a morsel of wisdom that guides the voices within. Thank God.
That you can confidently stand up for what you truly believe in regardless of the awkward looks from across the table. Once again, thank God.

No longer a slave of society and its pressures to perform. Today is a new day. Today is the day that I have made a choice. A choice that praises our God, one that honors Him, yet first, one that humbly asks for His forgiveness.

We have all done things we aren't proud of, things that are less than favourable, and even things that have dishonoured our most cherished loved ones. Thank God, that our Lord can offer us forgiveness in our weakest of times. His mercy and love overshadow all things and as His children, we receive His never ending forgiveness, with a true repentant heart.

I thank Him today for the wisdom He has shown me. As usual, it comes with some pain and discomfort, but then again, for those of us who make mistakes, so it should. I feel a strong calling to the church today, a calling to please and serve God. The capacity of which this will manifest itself, I do not know. The manner in which I serve Him, has yet to come forth. But do know this, it is a calling.

A desire deep inside to please Him, to do His will, to the best of my ability. To shed the skins of old, and to put on a new coat of armour, in His life. How blessed is he who is called by the Lord, in our darkness, in our despair, in our most troubled weakness. How can this be? How can he look upon us sinners as worthy to march for Him.

It is within the depths of my soul, I ask thee for your forgiveness. With a repentant heart, I beseech thee. A prayer of hope to continue on in Your name, to act according to Your will, to honour those around me and to bring Your light to the world.

I thank You O Lord, for seeing something greater in me than I can see myself. I thank You for sending me those angels that surround me with Your grace. I thank You for the most loving and kind man You so graciously blessed me with, that I will honour all the days of my life.

Today I will stand for You.

In Christ.

It's No Michelangelo

How do I begin to explain to you the emotional effects of something that has enveloped my whole life finally coming to fruition. To describe the sweet sensation and peaceful accomplishment of such an enormous event in one's life, seems almost futile in its efforts to convey the reality of what I feel.

On a recent trip to Italy, a visit to the Vatican was an absolute must. It was in fact, the most consistently visited venue of our vacation. During one of our almost obsessive tours of the Vatican, we were blessed enough to experience the amazing Sistine Chapel painted by Michelangelo Buonarroti. (1475-1564)

We're all familiar with Michelangelo's work in the Sistine Chapel, as well as, his most infamous statue of the beautiful, majestic, David. However, for me, all of this was something beyond words. Tears streaming down through my crows feet while looking skyward to the ceiling, my eyes darted from one image to the next, from one figure to another, simply trying to inhale every brush stroke and fine gilded detail.

As an art history enthusiast, studying the works of such masters as Michelangelo, Caravaggio, Raphael, DaVinci, Bernini, Botticelli, Rembrandt, became a passion. To then visually experience their brushes, their chisels, and their pencils first hand was truly a gift from God.

How often during my studies did I imagine them as regular men with a talent so great that all the nobles and kings sought after them with vigor. They would be commissioned by many to paint stiff portraits of those in power, entrusting the artist to convey not only their dignity and honour, but even more so, their wealth.

These regular men however, were also often commissioned by the church. Evidence of this enormous movement spreads across Italy, specifically and with vast numbers, in Rome.

Michelangelo was commissioned by the Pope to paint a small chapel adjacent to the Vatican. The job wasn't his preferred method of creating, however, after much consideration, he accepted. So over the next four years, with repeated attempts of sneaking a peek from the Pope, he went to work trying to depict his visual representation of our God and His work.

I wonder what went through his mind while standing (yes he stood on a platform to paint, he did not lie down) for hours upon hours, looking up, depicting what he could of the most intense bible stories, of life on earth as we know it to be told. Did he truly believe he was working directly for God? Did he feel absolute honour to be painting in God's house? Did he paint with such precision and perfection based on the fact that if you can't try your hardest for God Almighty, then who would you paint perfectly for?

I believe if he was a man of faith, he couldn't of possibly have spent that much time, doing what he so clearly loved to do, without some of these things crossing his mind. I say this based on experience.

I have finally become my own Michelangelo, a true Caravaggio. Imagine that! I have finally had the experience that they have had as our greatest masters of all times. I certainly didn't paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, I certainly didn't paint the graceful figures as Caravaggio did, but I did paint for God.

I simply painted the back wall behind the alter of my parish. One colour. Two and a half hours. It was no Michelangelo.

It was a small feat, but the time spent imagining how Michelangelo may have felt, was so invigorating, so insightful, so inspiring, and it was all done in the quietness of the Lord. Just He and I.

I was painting for God. How special was that.

:)

Life's Appreciations

It doesn't seem to be often enough, that we can really sit back and appreciate (truly appreciate) what "life" offers. We're usually caught up in the "me" moments; those moments that seem to collectively populate all of the hours of our day. These are the moments that consciously (or unconsciously) gain strength throughout the course of a day regardless of our awareness of them most of the time. The moments that sometimes can potentially do more harm than good.

I believe that in a society that is riddled with selfishness and almost despise for helping others, that it becomes increasing daunting to stand up for what is righteous, for what we "believe" in. We are battled at all levels of the playing field. We are gruesomely slayed by the conglomerate of media sources that arrogantly pursue their hidden agendas in a fashion that eludes most of our common reason, enough so, to sway our young, most impressionable people.

However, as we have come to know, "such is life here on earth".

As age becomes us, we can only hope for a life that enlists more lessons, deeper transactions with our loved ones, and an overwhelming sense of peace that we have tried to do the best we can. There will be many occasions that we will reminisce about and know that we should have taken an alternate path, or made a different decision, but what remains is the fact that we made the choices we made based on what we knew at the time. Amidst the tribulations that come with learning life on life's terms, can come the highest sense of fulfillment known to us. If only we can understand the peace that awaits us, all of us; if only we could come to that place of humility, to drop our battle swords, to put down our shields.

Life wouldn't be this good if you didn't experience some of the bad, some of the pain. How can you truly know joy if you've never experienced pain? How can you truly enjoy the peace and love of God if you've never questioned what He was or is? I think that all of these questioning times in our lives turn out to be the most informative and influential times we experience and give us the stepping stones of wisdom we require to grow, regardless if that is what we seek.

Embrace life to its fullest. But...embrace it to its fullest in your Creator who graciously blesses us each day. Who gives us everything for reasons unbeknownst to us. Embrace the elders of the community who are longing for comfort and love. God gives each of us the ability, through His likeness, to provide to those in our lives who need it most. It is our duty, our responsibility, to act on this love and show those people God's "Agape" love.

To all of those who might be feeling "God's Nudge" to do something, I encourage you to follow that wholesome and Holy calling.

To only hear the words "‘Well done, good and faithful servant!" is truly all I ask.

RIP Frank

You may recall from an earlier post (Frank's Calling - Feb 26/12) that I spoke of a man named Frank who was asking about me down at the mission where I volunteer. Frank was a very special person to me.

On March 20, 2013, Frank passed away in a fire that engulfed the building where he lived.

I am in shock and filled with deep sorrow. This is a great tragedy.

As the week has gone on since I found out the news, I've prayed many times for Frank. I imagine him "up there" in a bright white suit, cleaned up with a nice hair cut, his shining blue eyes, and perhaps even his teeth back.

Frank was someone who was less fortunate than most, he often used the local mission for his meals and other essentials, and Frank also suffered with some sort of mental illness. It was often difficult to speak with him, depending on what his mood was like that day, so you had to assess the situation and see if he was temperamental or not and then proceed to either keep your distance or engage in conversation.

Frank was one of the first people I started to get to know down there, and he seemed to take a liking to me as well. He wasn't very trusting, as anyone living some time on the streets wouldn't be, but he seemed to trust me just a little. He always said "Hello" as I walked by. He often would squeeze my hand while talking with him. His finger nails were long, yellowed and not so clean most times. When he was in a good mood, he would laugh and smile ear to ear showing off his hardened gums, since he had no teeth.

Some people said he had a very young mental state, no more than a ten year old, but I would have to disagree. He was extremely witty, often catching you in phrases that no ten year old could catch on to. He asked me once where I worked. (Somehow he thought I worded at a bank). I told him I worked at an Engineering Company. He said, "Are they all engineers that work there?". I said, "yup, they sure are". He asked me then if I was an engineer, and I said, "no, I just work in the office there." Frank said "well I guess they're not all Engineer's then are they."

He caught me. He outwitted me. And he laughed and laughed and laughed, saying " I got you eh?" over and over.

I sure liked ole Frank. His heart was pure. And this is why I know that Frank has seen the face of our Lord, Jesus. Frank knows I've been thinking about him since I found out. This I am sure of also. Frank was the reason I came back to the mission. My life has changed such a great deal because of this, and Frank helped me get there.

Hats off to you Frank. Enjoy your clean suit, all the food you can imagine to eat, all the questions you ever had (and there were lots of them), you now know the answers. I will miss you Frank.

With Love,
The girl from the bank.

Abega

(silence inserted here for contemplation of the absolute humility to overcome my heart)

The only way to break open this blog, is to sit in awe and wonder of those people who I have had the most pleasure in meeting today. These are the people with whom thinking on the opposite side of the brain is all they have, it is beyond their control. Short haircuts, spacers and nose rings, they're always different and just don't ever seem to "fit in". I am in awe of their beauty and their confidence to stand out in the crowd. It is this confidence that gives the rest of the world a chance to live within a world of colour and fantasy that is sometimes swirled and smeared and other times held with the finest of detail.

These are the artists of our world. And they need to be commended for their bravery.

I love them. I love what they stand for and I love their ability to captivate me in each their own way.

Their choice of mediums were many and mixed, almost as many as their techniques. From 'encaustic' to 'graphite', each piece had its own life that breathed colour from its core. Some were coated in a high gloss acrylic glaze where others were made entirely out of glass. Their beauty was simply...beautiful.

What would it take for me to be like them? Does it take a formal education? Does it take a BFA? What type of orginality does it take? Or does it just simply take... truth. I believe it to be the latter. We met with many, and discussed their techniques and their history as artists, and all were in love with their art. All of them were true to themselves. They were in love with this craft of creating, and having the ability to express something, anything. I too am in love with them.

From the beginning of time we have indulged in the arts to produce these wonders today. I believe this to be romantic and fulfilling with hands stoking their craft until the piece speaks to them, "I am done". Their passion is what keeps them alive, its what pushes them on to "keep keeping on" we were told.

Remember them. Respect their creations. Live from your heart. You can't escape it.

1 Peter 1:13-16

Now what I like about this passage is that it talks about doing whatever it takes to focus our thoughts on those things that allow us to serve God successfully, all the while eliminating any thoughts that would trip us up. That's what the description in my study notes say. I like that. That makes me think about my job primarily. My boss used to be a devout Christian and he has since turned away from God.It also says in the bible somewhere that it is worse to have known God and turn from Him, than to have never known Him at all. (Kind of the "you should know better" idea.) So anyways,  he was an apologetic (a term used to describe someone that specifically defends the faith as their primary function) and preached to some extent or something, i'm not sure what. But I find he tries to sway my faith, and to me that is nothing less than Satan himself. Satan is real and he sure is evident in someone if they try and sway you away from God. It gives me a bad feeling inside. And what this verse tells me is this:

Do what you gotta do to be closer to God. Do whatever job it is or whatever hobby it is, or how ever many bible studies it is, to be closer. I've got this "devotional" type of feeling that I long for, like a calling of some sort, and it's getting stronger by the day. I'm not sure what's going on, but it scares me on one hand, and yet it feels like I'm right on the edge of something super fantastic.

So the verse continues on to talk about "resting our hope" in God, and that we need to "exhibit confidence that God will accomplish all that He promised he would do". We should not conform ourselves to our old ways, our old behaviours (prior to being a Christian), and that we should strive to be holy as God Himself is Holy, and we are made in His image. I love the fact that God is Holy. It warms me inside. It makes me feel comforted and restful. I seriously want to dedicate my life to Him, but i'm not sure how I can go about that ,really. I still need a job and the world is such a terrible place and extremely hard to be in. We continually sin, and it feels so wrong to be and think in my old patterns. I want something new. I want something so much better. The desires in my heart are so much stronger than before. All I want is to absorb God into every part of me, into all of my being, and I don't know how to make that happen fast enough, and so deep inside of me, that when I go out to the world, "they" wouldn't have an affect on me. I think mission work is something I really want to do. I just don't know how I would support myself.

You know what? I've just figured out that that is my very first problem. "I" is the problem. "I" can't do anything, nor do "I" need to do anything.  "God" is the answer. "Trusting" God is the way. I will ask, and He shall provide. He promises us that. So all "I" need to do, is trust in Him, follow Him and what it says to do in the bible, and He will lay everything out infront of me. He will allow opportunities to come, situations and people to flow. When it feels twisted and wrong? It's because "I" took over again. And "I" don't have the power to set everything up like He does. It's the surrendering part of things, and letting God handle it.

It is just extremely hard to do that every single day. But I suppose that is why daily devotionals are so important. To renew our faith each and every single day. To renew our committment to Him every day again. To allow Him to make the decisions for us every day. All I need to do is listen to His word (the bible) and to obey what it says in there. It's as simple as that.

Come to Jesus

"Weak and wounded sinner, lost and left to die, raise your head for Love is passing by. Come to Jesus... and live." Chris Rice, Christian Musician.

It's a wonderful thing to know that God will never let you down, and if you seek Him, you will find Him. I've been away for far too long, sadly, and this to my self-inflicted demise, is exactly the place I need to be. I need the Lord in my life. I need Jesus in my life. I don't know why I go away for such long periods, when I know the truth, and the promises God delivers, yet I fail to recognize them. Why do I need to be this way.

Maybe our blessings come through hardships and deep sorrow. Laura Story, another Christian Musician says this exact thing in her song "Blessings". Who are we to say that God isn't showing Himself and His mercy through the trials of this life, healing through tears, the storms of life. Would we turn to Him otherwise? I don't think we would, or certainly not all of us.

It's an emotional time right now with being away for some time. I long to be there. I think of my Dad who's passed now, and long to be there with him again. I would love to hear his voice again. It's been so very long. This world isn't where we should want to be. God's kingdom, His glorious kingdom, with its peace and love surrounding our hearts and souls, this is where we should all want to be. If I go before those who know me, do not grieve for me, not one tear. Know where I am, and know that I am with God. I will be the one celebrating and leading the way for you. If I am the last to leave, know that the pain will be unbearable, and not something I want to experience. Believe in the Lord, and lead me and I will let God's mercy come through the tears and heal me, until we meet again. Ask Jesus into your heart today.

And remember that when the sky is dark and life pours the rain of hurt and pain, Cry to Jesus...and Live.

What's Next...

One of those days today. You know the ones. Where you dread going into work, where you dread conversations that are bound to come up, where you've gotten involved in something that you just rather you didn't. Yup. I had a couple of those days lately.

I'm referring to conflict in our daily lives, about attitudes, about other people affecting our position in life, in our beliefs, in our motives, in our reactions. What do we do about them? What can we do to ease the pain of our daily lives somehow? What do we do with those people who just rub us the wrong way? Well, one thing is for sure, and that is Jesus Christ is the only way out of any of these difficult times.

What if Jesus was watching me today. What would he have thought. Would he be proud of me or would he once again bow his head and hope I came to him with a heavy burdened heart about the situation I just got involved in. He sent us His Holy Spirit, to live inside of all of us. For us to use in making decisions in our daily lives, especially for when conflict arises with others.

We are to turn the other cheek, love our enemies right? Well, that is easier said than actually done. So I am left with a "plank" in my eye, and before I go to my brethern and point out the "spec" in their eye, I must first deal with my own shortcomings. And because I am a believer in our Lord, Jesus Christ, and that He specifically died for the forgiveness of our sins, then I too have the Holy Spirit convicting me of my wrongs.

I can't tell you how much I want to be right. The world is a difficult place to be sometimes. But what if our only blessings came from our pain and suffering here. What if we could only grow in our strength in our Saviour by going through trials and tribulations. James 1:2-3. Living with humility is well... humiliating.

I know that I need to go and apologize and ask for forgiveness from these people in my life. That is not what I want to do. But it is what God tells me to do, and I must be obedient. I must. I can only then go to the Lord in prayer and ask his forgiveness. He tells us that if we have a problem with a brethern, to first go and correct our situation with him, and then come to the alter for our sacrifice to Him, and with our prayer to Him. (sigh) I am not looking forward to this in the slightest.

I must keep my focus on the Lord. These people do not rule me. They can beat me and persecute me but they will not own me or my soul. I have promised this to God. And I will tell them that by the grace of God himself do I stand before them and apologize, for nothing within my own self can give me the strength to do this, but only God Himself can help me now. Philippians 4:13.

Pray for me.

Chicken Beard

It’s in God’s love that I can share this with you. Another experience of such evidence of the love of God in my heart while down serving the less fortunate at the local Mission.

I didn’t catch his name while he waited in the line up for his plate of dinner. But strikingly his beard was bushy, with a slight greyish-blond ting to it. His eyes were a bit glossy and maybe even a little red. When it was his turn to come up to the counter to receive his dinner plate, he very politely but excitedly asked me for "two pieces of chicken, please".  So I dug into the vast pan of roasted chicken legs and pulled out two smaller sized drumsticks. This way, I wouldn’t be taking too much away from someone else, and still able to fulfill his request. Off he went with a very grateful heart, even if it was just for a moment.

The night continued on as usual, the heat, the hungry, the cleaning of countless dishes. I had forgotten how much I truly loved it there. Usually after we have served all of those sitting at the tables, I escape from that position. I tend to like to go out to the floor where everyone eats and I begin taking empty trays, and wiping tables. They're all so thankful again, and many of them will often encourage conversations with me. I like that. They're human beings just like everyone else, and I think more loving than most. And so that's my escape. I want to be with them, I want to share God's love with them, I want them to feel that from me.

Once my chores of cleaning are complete, I headed back to the kitchen to help out in there. And just as I took a moment of rest, the gentleman I had served the two pieces of chicken to, had come up to the front where I was standing. With stretched out arms, greasy chicken fingers (still filled with food) he pointed to me and said; "Thank you so much for dinner". I looked up at him, only to notice his bushy, greyish-blond beard was just filled with chicken pieces. His face was red from the heat of the room, and as he spoke to me, I felt so much dear love in my heart, I almost wanted to reach out to him. I smiled from ear to ear, and said "you are very very welcome".

We served 153 hungry mouths that night, all with a smile and God’s love shining through our hearts. We received many compliments and thank you’s throughout the night as we often do. We are there to bring God to those who need Him. We are there to show them there is hope in His love. We are there to be obedient to His command to help those who are less fortunate than we. And we lovingly pour out our hearts in everything we do, as unglorifying as some of the tasks are, that need to be done.

We love them all the most, even if they have chicken stuck in their beards, or rice spitting out of their mouths. I think that makes us love them even more. Well, it does for me.

God Bless them all.

(hugs)

Frank's Calling

Something's been plaguing my every thought for quite a long time now, constantly coming to mind at different times, never relenting to give me the peace and quiet that my heart desires.

Let's talk about our "hearts desires" shall we? We have them, and for many of us, there are many of them. They are those things that seem to steal our hearts thoughts and attention. But what are they really? Are they real? Are they pure? Or are they simply "things" we desire to please the ever nagging worldliness that seems to never let us rest. I think that many of them are just that. But, I do believe when they are persistent and their motives pure, I believe they are from God. They are to be answered and addressed as they are "His" work calling out to us.

I've not been down to the Mission for the Homeless in a very long time to volunteer. I had so many personal reasons why I just stopped going. I was much to busy for some odd reason. There was just no time to go and do God's work any longer. But I'm sure He understands that life is busy with children and jobs and everything in between. More so however, who really would notice if one lowly worker just wasn't there any longer.

Many of the recipients at the Mission are mentally ill in some regard, many are ungrateful at times. When I attended regularly to offer my service work in the kitchen, I grew fond of many of these people. I never thought that "they" were affected by my presence in any way, I honestly believed that it was more for me than them. Until today.

On my way to church today I was listening to the local Christian Radio Station (KFM 95.5) and at that time in the morning on Sunday's, they broadcast one of the local church's sermons over the air. Pastor Jeremy's message today was "The Nudge". I thought, "wow, the nudge huh?" And the "Mission Nudge" came to mind immediately. But as always, I reminisced what it was like when I volunteered, only to follow that with what I did every time I thought about it, saying to myself, "Yah, I gotta get back there." Within moments of making that commitment silently to myself, I was off thinking of something else. You know, one of those thinkers, and never a doer type of person.

I arrived at church this morning and listened to the wonderful message about walking in faith with Jesus and the condition of immature believers. What this is referring to is those of us who believe in Christ as our Saviour from sin, but are fleeting and go astray all the time. We get caught up in the worldliness of sin and stop walking our Christian journey for a promise of something more immediate and tangible. But the Lord is faithful even when we are faithless. (Luke 22:31-32)

So after a wonderful, spiritual message, I decided to get back to God, devote some of my time to Him daily. Yup, I was going to do it this time. I wrote down on my bulletin from church "The Nudge- Mission". I was going to commit to going back there and listen to God's consistent and ever so persistent "nudge". Feeling pretty good about that, I prepared to leave after the service was done, when one of the members approached me and said "I have a message for you." I responded and said, "Really?"

She proceeded to give me a small piece of paper with a handwritten message saying,

"Frank-at the Misson was asking for you. He thinks you work at a bank :) "

I can't tell you what this did to me. My eyes filled with water as I stared at the slip of paper addressed to me. I looked up in disbelief at the messenger to see her eyes filled with tears. I asked her "Frank? You mean Frank, like kind of crazy Frank? Like he uses the mission?"

And she replied to me, "Yes, Frank. He said you used to talk to him all the time and he was wondering if I knew you. He asked me if I knew the short girl who used to talk to him and was sad that you weren't there anymore. So I told him that she went to my church and that I would tell her he was asking for her."

God places things on our hearts for the good of His kingdom, for us to do His work while we are here on earth. I am so very blessed to have heard this nudge from Him directly. There is no other way I can explain why these things happen. We can all hear Him, if we learn how to listen. I had a dream/vision after my dad's passing, and in this dream he said to me, "I am always here, you just don't know how to see me yet."

I believe that God is always here and talking to us through others and through our hearts, we just have to learn how to see Him and hear Him.

Thank you God for this special day today. I'll be seeing Frank soon. I promise.

Identity Crisis

Let me open by first saying that I pray to God the words come out right in this entry. I pray that you, the reader, can grasp the intensity that I experienced this morning. It was a morning of identity crisis and conviction, and it went a little something like this.

It started last night to be exact. I won't try and find the right words to describe it, I won't try and find the "artsy fartsy writer type lingo" to wow the audience. “That” is exactly what this entry is about. It's about continually trying to be that "artist" that I have pictured in my mind for as long as I can remember, and never feeling like I’m worthy of it or have reached that status.

I met up with a friend last night; through an opportunity he was gracious enough to give my daughter for a photography gig at his restaurant. She's employed to do the thing she likes to do the most, and she's officially began pursuing her dream at the ripe young age of 15. I am so very happy for her, yet at the same time I am so very jealous and envious of her, and disappointed in myself. 

I have spent the entire 40 some years of my life pursuing dreams of artistic flare in some aspect or another. I‘ve wanted to stand out from the crowd, I’ve wanted to be one of those real artists you see, brave enough to cut your hair weird with wonky colours, and to dress in things that are not of the norm; to be a leader in fashion and inventiveness. I’ve continually strived to be someone who seemed to evade me for so many years. Never seeming to reach that typical artistic image, I continued to do fine arts without ever being fully satisfied with who I was. The saga continues.

Enter Christianity.

Now the Lord’s word tells me to not live in the flesh. To seek Him and He will give me everything and more, ten fold. Yet after four years, and many personal experiences of His blessings, I can still honestly say that I don’t believe Him on this particular topic. I don’t believe that if I let this part of me “die”, that He, the God of all creation, can fulfill my needs as an expressive artist. Nope, this one’s too big, even for Him.

I am filled with fear and anger when convicted, as I was this morning, of living with desires of this world. Those desires are, for those of you like me that need it spelled out, they are the desires of fame and fortune, of play time with no pain, they are of having people look at you and your art form and standing in awe of your great glory and magnificence. Those are the desires of the flesh that drive me. Money. Fame. Success in the eyes of this world. Acceptance by my peers. Making others envious of my talents. These are the things that destroy me the most and bring me to my knees when called out on.

Now let’s discuss defence.

I’ve said on two different occasions in the past two days, that those who defend so strongly are usually in the wrong. Isn’t that the truth. I’ve been called out for living in the flesh, by someone I hold very dear to my heart, and was more than upset at her when she told me the truth. Thank God for true friends. ;)

I have an unhealthy fear of letting go of this last part of “who I was, who I am” to follow the Lord. I just figured that if I shut the doors to the art studio in my heart, that I could keep that within me and not have to give up what makes me happy. She tells me that the spirit cannot fill my whole heart because I’ve got this art studio sectioned off and doors locked up taking space in my heart so the Lord will never own all of my heart as He should. But fear holds the key, and the doors are locked for good, yet I know the answer is to open my whole heart to God and He will give me more than I could ever imagine.

I am afraid to lose who I am. I can honestly say that it is no different than the grieving you feel when losing something, yet it is within your own self, never being able to escape who you truly are. Talk about identity crisis. Can you say Sybil?

My challenge today is to let that of the flesh die, again, and go and serve the Lord. Have “Faith” in the Lord, give my whole heart to Him, and He will give me what my heart desires. He is a great and merciful God, and how can I think that He wouldn’t give me that which my heart yearns for the most. How can I think He would withhold my strongest desires to be creative and expressive?

If only I had faith and would trust in Him.

Signed,

(who knows)

I'll See You In Two Weeks

Another story about an encounter at the homeless shelter I volunteer at.  A woman, very French, took me by surprise tonight. Her name is Gatienne. She’s mostly bald, just a few grey hairs standing on end, she can barely speak English, eats like a horse and I just love her. They say she’s a pain in the butt because she takes forever to get organized and get out of the dining area while they’re trying to clean. But I love her.

I helped her out with a few things tonight, getting her ketchup for her hot dog and what not. I listened to her to tell me what the best way to get ketchup out of an almost empty bottle was, with a little vinegar. I kind of knew that already, but she just wanted to tell me something I didn’t know, you know? I like that. While I was wiping the table where she had sat with friends for dinner, she asked me my name, and I told her it was “Sue”. Well she nearly fell over; her eyes were as big as saucers. She said her daughter’s nurse I think it was, or her daughter, or her nurse for her cancer was named Sue. She was so excited she was speaking so fast I could barely understand her. Someone she knew anyways. It's nothing to us really to have that connection of knowing someone with the same name, no big deal right, but to her it meant everything. She was so happy to know that small bit of information; to know someone with the same name as someone she knows. Perhaps she felt a connection that way, perhaps as I had felt something with her because she was French.

As she was being rushed out the door by the custodians, she turned her head and asked me if she would see me again. I told her in two weeks, that I would be back in two weeks and with hearing that she was so thrilled. She reminded me of someone that could be my aunt because her accent was so thick, although she was a lot more French than my family, but it just seemed so familiar to me. She just wanted to talk to someone. She just wanted someone to talk to. She just wants someone to notice her, to know she’s just like the rest of us. After she went to the hallway with her tea to wait to come back in the dining room, I proceeded to the kitchen and almost burst into tears.

Maybe she grew up like my mom with a house full of siblings, maybe not. I want to imagine that for her. I want her to know that a small piece of my heart belongs to her right now. I want her to be able to feel like a woman who cared for things, looked after things, and helped out in a kitchen or cooked a meal, just those regular things that most women do in their lifetime. I need a place where I can just sit and share some time with them, a comfortable place for them to know that I respect them for who they are, as people, not as homeless or in need of a handout. The dignity that they show, the humility that they express, the lack of pride to be able to not only stand in line for a free meal, but to be so graciously thankful to us who work there and serve it to them, is second to none.

I would like to get her something. I would like to get her a bag or two sewn up with her name on it. She was carrying around a couple of plastic bags with her, and perhaps a pretty bag with her name on it might make her smile.

God blesses us with people like this each and every day. Let's take a moment to make notice of these precious gifts He has given.

Equanimity

It's okay, I didn't know what it meant either. Equanimity. "A state of mental or emotional stability or composure arising from a deep awareness and acceptance of the present moment." Doesn't that just sound so romantic? I thought so. I fell in love with the meaning of this word almost immediately. I suppose perhaps because it rings true to what I desire, of myself, of my character.

I've decided to study "contentment" for the next year, if that's even possible. I know today that true contentment comes from God, from having His character living within us, and accepting that His will is in our lives. There's a peace that comes from knowing that, and that's the feeling I wish to have each and every day.

Today is Sunday, the Lord's Day, and I've just returned home from church this morning. Our church had a guest speaker today, for our 59th anniversary. His message was really special; enough so to bring me to tears today. I often cry in church. It's embarrassing to be honest, scrambling for Kleenex trying not to have your nose drip, all the while pretending you've got it together. I often cry in church because sometimes it just hits home to me, deep within my heart, that Jesus is the only thing I need in my life. Truly, only Him.

Trusting in Jesus to take care of every aspect of your life is the answer, its not always easy, but it is the answer. And I was shown that again this morning. We all go through things in life, struggles, hurts, pains, joys, pleasures, decisions, periods of uncertainty, which leave us emotionally bruised and frightened for it to all happen again. But somehow the name of Jesus can make it all make sense. He is the root of all our foundation. (Revelations 22:16) He is the bright morning star. And all we have to do is seek Him, follow Him, and trust in Him.

There are those people that have been in my life most recently who have carved a special place in my heart. I am certain they know who they are. There will never be a time going forward that the impact they made in my life will go unnoticed. There will never be a time going into the future that I won't pray for their happiness in God, and thank Jesus for placing them in my life. They have been key to my salvation. They have been key to my growth and they will forever be given due thanks for putting up with me. I've not reached a state of emotional stability, not quite yet, and to be honest, these special people in my life never stood a chance with me. They had no defence against my instability, lack of contentment, and crazy emotional upheavels every other day trying to figure out what it is that I wanted. I'm sorry for that.

Life is a funny thing. It keeps going in spite of us trying to peddle backwards. We keep breathing, our thoughts keep changing, and our choices keep confronting us. Our ultimate goal in this life? I believe it to be surrounded by "Love". Nothing more than showcasing, exuberating, living, oozing, and ultimately sharing God's great Love for all of man. Nothing else matters but God's Love and what we do with it. Nothing else matters than having Jesus Christ save our lives. I've often heard this spoken in church, to be "saved", and of our "salvation" in Jesus, but until recently I couldn't really put that into the reality of my own life. Jesus saves me from myself. Jesus saves me from the enemy within. He literally saved my life and continues to need to do so on a daily basis. I will need many more lifesavers thrown my way, and He is the only one that can truly save me from my greatest enemies.

For those special people in my life, I apologize for the hurts and pains I directly caused. I ask for your forgiveness. I ask this through Jesus. To those special people who have taught me so much of God, I will forever be eternally grateful to you. For those with whom my path has crossed, I give you the only thing I have left, and that is God's greatest gift to us, His love in my heart.

I will continue on my journey with great sadness at times, with great hope in times of trouble, with deep love in my heart for many people from my past and those who are to come. I will forever hold a promise made for one part of my heart to remain faithful to one very special person, with whom for reasons unbeknown to us our time together here has ended, but for an eternity where our hearts with be joined...forever. I love thee and will meet you in Heaven one day my love. Until then, I will live my life in anticipation of growth in God, and peace within. Perhaps a state of equanimity might bless my life so the pain of waiting subsides and perhaps the Lord will allow me to share that with you again somehow. I pray you are not in pain, I pray that your heart can receive God's great comfort, and I pray you can move on knowing that you still mean so very much to me, and forever will.

(hugs)

Four Legs, Foliage for a Head, and Seeing the World Through Your Heart

Inspiring messages come from the weirdest of places. Experiences are just that, experiences. We go through life encountering many things, situations, people, and experiences, we take the opinions of those around us; sometimes to a depth that only creates inner turmoil.

Until an inner explosion of beauty and expression come forth with great force, leaving its host filled with passion and in love with love once again.

Let us twist and turn in fields of colour, OUR colours. Our hearts are designed to sing with joy and worship and let us be forever reminded to be who we are, as colourful as originally created. Let us forever embrace those feelings of expression, of freedom, of love and kindness. Be in a place within yourself that is filled with such fantastic colour that you practically bleed with the colours of the rainbow.

I’ve heard time and time again from people I have encountered, descriptions of my personality and characteristics of my soul and they all have a similar ring to them.

They all tell me that I am incredibly real (when I meet them alone without any outside influences). However, as colourful as I may be, I have always tended to transform myself into one of the most interesting of God’s creatures, the Chameleon. Ever changing colours to blend into their surroundings for fear of being discovered, becoming whatever it is that is required to blend in with the rest. But those are not my true colours. Those colours are dictated to me depending on my surroundings and people I am with. But that is over now. The cloak of false colours and outer transformation cease no longer in my soul.

It usually takes an enormous event to trigger a life-change in us and to finally get our attention. And this time has been no different. A severe shift has occurred, and the beauty escapes through every breath I breathe. The Lord is good to me.

To Thine Own Self …. Be True. [Shakespeare - Hamlet]

Humbly yours.

Open The Eyes Of My Heart Lord

I've had one of those moments again today. You know the ones. The ones that never seem to rest unless you act on it, the ones that keep after you, keep reminding you of what you're supposed to be doing, and making all of the other silly, meaningless, futile moments of what your life is going through at the time seem to disappear into thin air.

I'm talking about clear, concise, moments of clarity in hearing Jesus. Yup. That's right. I said, I heard Jesus talking to me this morning. Now I bet you're sitting there thinking "yah, whatever, you nut case". But listen closely. He didn't appear to me in a vision, He wasn't standing in front of me on the street glowing or anything like that; He spoke directly to my heart, again.

It just seems to be the way the Lord lets me know what to do. And maybe he does this to everyone, I think that's what I've heard anyway, but it was loud and clear today on my way to worship Him at church. So I've had a few things happen in the past little while, some things are not as welcomed as others, some things were sort of unexpected yet hopeful, just regular "life" things that have come up.

On this glorious Sunday morning, I struggled with life and its curveballs, all in all while waiting to head off to church. It is a deep desire to go to church and worship God and all that He has done in my life. Yet, as I drive off down the street, I hold resentment on my heart due to a situation that I am dealing with. Nothing major, just life stuff.

On my way to church I see an elderly man waiting at the bus stop with his walker jammed up into the snow bank trying desperately to stay out of harms way with traffic zinging by. You have to remember that living where I live, the winters get cold, real cold. It was for certain one of those 'pierce your skin when you step outside' kind of cold mornings, and here stands a tall, lanky man, with one of those hats on with the ear things that flop down and the brim with fur on it gets snapped to the forehead. You know the ones. So I drive past him, I glance slightly over to see his worn, weathered, wrinkled face trying to fight off the cold while waiting for the city transit.

My heart breaks. There is it. That major tug. The one that instantly makes my own world go away. The one that erases everything and everyone in my life. Now don't get me wrong, I love my family and children and everyone else in my life, but at those moments, it's me, the guy outside, and Jesus Christ himself. That's it. The Lord's mercy takes over my heart. I might have well walked right past our God this morning, leaving him fend for himself, while I'm going to a building down the street to apparently "worship and praise Him"! Like come off of it Lady!

How can I continue on my journey this morning! How can I be such a hypocrite? Don't you see what's happening here? The Lord has put this on my heart again, the mercy for mankind, the necessity to help them, to help and aid the weak, the weary, the needy, the old. And gosh darn it all, I just couldn't continue on to church knowingly leaving this man out there, without offering something of help to him, and to ignore the call of Christ that had been placed in my heart once again!

I drove slowly down the street, thinking to myself "you're not gonna turn you back on this are you...you're not going to go to church and pretend this didn't happen within you...you hypocrite." So I decided to drive around the block, answer the call of God Himself, and if that man was still there waiting for the bus, I would pull over and ask him if I can offer him a ride.

A) Who does this type of thing in this day and age? No one. Everyone is so afraid of what society has done to our fellow man, and rightfully so. The world is a mess, a disgraceful mess filled with evil qualities that leave no room for kindness and mercy for our fellow man. And...

B) I sure hope I knew what I was doing.

I didn't know what I was doing, and for that I am so very thankful that the Lord was in control this time, because my mind would never had brought me to stop.

I asked the gentleman if I could offer him a ride. He couldn't hear me of course (probably that big furry hat over his ears). So I leaned over through my passenger window and spoke up, offering him a ride. He was very grateful but graciously said, "no that's okay, I wait for the bus", in a Finlandian accent. I persisted and kept offering since I told him it was so very cold out. And for a moment I almost had him convinced since he asked me where I was going. I said "to church" but that I could drive him anywhere he needed to go. He said he didn't want my church to be interrupted and that he was happy I stopped to even ask him. I said the Lord speaks to my heart and that is why I am asking him. He opted out of the ride graciously, and ever so thankfully.

What I wanted to tell him was that Jesus speaks to us in many ways; we just don't know how to listen. I once had a dream right after my father passed away years ago, that he told me in my dream, that he was always there, I just didn't know how to see him yet. He was a thin light that is always around, but our eyes just don't know how to focus on him yet. And that was enough for me to believe that he was telling me the truth, dream or no dream. Dad was okay. :)

And so my heart broke and wept as I pulled away. (Stop crying you'll mess your make up before church, I thought). But am I a better person because of the experience? You are darn tootin' I am. The Lord spoke, and I listened this time. Blessings to all of us who are chosen by the Lord to do His good works and have faith and trust in Him. We love Him with all of our hearts and souls.

Happy Sunday :)

Three Special Crosses and Seconds Please

Proverbs 19:17
"Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the LORD, and he will reward them for what they have done."


You know Jesus was a homeless man. He sure was. He wandered from city to city, from town to town, while in ministry, sleeping in strange places whereever He could find. He and his disciples wandered through these places and asked for food and drink from strangers and for a place to lie at the end of a long day ministering for His father, our God. He was no different in that sense from the people that we see at the homeless shelter and soup kitchen every time we go to volunteer. Well other than the fact that we are mere humans, filled with sin of course, but you know what I mean.


I've been volunteering at the local mission for a little while now. Long enough to start understanding how things work, how people play tricks on you to get more dessert, and how some people are seriously mentally ill, yet still manage to get there to eat. They drink an awful amount of coffee, with loads of sugar usually, and as a matter of fact, just as many of them drink tea. Weird. I'm not sure why I think that's weird; I suppose it may be because I don't like tea so I figured most people didn't either. Who knows. Who cares really.


They come in with all different personalities and little things about them, and after a while you just start to know who's who, and what they're like. You know the mentally challenged ones, the cripples, the one's who's eyes don't point straight, the one's who have a mental state of a young child, the one's that you'd never guess they would use a facility like that. And then there are the ones who abuse substances to make it through life. There are all kinds of different people who need and rely on places like the local soup kitchen and mission services, and people like me who volunteer their time to serve.


But I serve God, and that's why it feels so good and right to be there. I only wish I could be there always. I only wish I could give more. I wish I could give them everything I own. I wish I didn't have to eat so I could hand out twenty-dollar bills or buy them all Big Mac Combos. Imagine. They probably haven't had McDonalds in forever, or if ever for some. But alas, I cannot give everything I have, sadly.


I do from time to time try and buy a little something for someone who touches my heart in some way, or that perhaps might need something. There is one gentleman that has been a long time citizen of our city who I had come into contact with years ago. To see him here was a shock to me. I think he may have been coming here for years, but I wasn't sure, nor did I care. The thing that struck me about this one man, was his ability to be exactly who he was without shame. He's artistic in his dress, very over the top, full of fine looking costume jewellery and black velvet gloves. And he speaks of scripture often, and that is inspiring to me. So I thought how perfect would it be to buy him a little something, anonymously of course. Three crosses filled with sparkles and gems, and a bracelet. Yup. He was sure to love them. Only to find out tonight, that he never received them. He knew nothing of the gift I had left with his name on it.


Well, I suppose that was that. Until I noticed dangling from her neck at the coffee station, a beautiful rhinestone cross. (Yay!) I said nothing. I was confused on how she got it actually. While cleaning the tables, she showed it to me and said that the nightshift guy gave it to her not too long ago. And there you have it. The wonderful crosses I had purchased for someone else were given to entirely different people. That's how God works. He provides me with the means but He looks after the details. I hope she thinks of God when she wears it. And that's good enough for me. She's a real bubbly kind of woman, a real joker she called herself and a true delight to have made her acquaintance tonight. My heart was happy.


And so the night continues. Washing and wiping. Serving and cleaning. Loving every minute of it. They're asking for seconds and I figure we have lots of food and no one is coming in so I'm giving it to them, I just don't have it in me to say no.  Until lots of them are asking for seconds and we have to say no now. Uh oh. Now my heart is breaking. I'm just no good at this part. You have to understand that all of the times I've been there, they're all very pleasant and polite, and they're just super hungry. And we have to say no? Ugh. I don't like it. But there is a need for rules and controls otherwise it wouldn't be possible to keep the doors open. So now it's breaking down like this...I've given some people seconds and not others. Not a good idea. People get upset about that, especially because they're hungry, it makes matters worse. So a young lady under the influence asks me for more food for her friend who is still hungry and has had a plate already, and we have to say no. She doesn't like that answer. She continues to ask and becomes more and more heated every time we have to say no to her.


And then she says it.


"God wouldn't say no to me, God doesn't like what you're saying, He would never say that!"


Well it got ugly after that, yelling and cursing, but she had a point I suppose. I felt so bad. If I had money in my pocket I would have given it out tonight for sure. We had food left; I served some people seconds and not others. Perhaps God wouldn't have turned anyone away. I don't think He would have. I think He would have served whom He could.


I wish it could be different. I wish no one went hungry tonight. I wish no one went hungry ever. I wish I could give more. I wish people could see the mercy that lives within my heart, but more so I wish they knew where it came from.


(sigh)

Lord Let Me Shine For Them

Rich Mullins, by far the truest Christian man that I have ever come across, with the deepest sense of humility in life, has inspired me, even though he has no idea of the impact that he has made in my quest for God and desire to be what God wants me to be.

Rich Mullins was a famous Christian Music Artist who chose to do God's work through the gift of music. He lived a humble life. Not the typical life of a famous person, but of simple means, donating millions of dollars earned through his musical success. Rich took only the lowest paying salary within the current years time for himself out of all of the millions generated by his music sales, he lived with the Native Americans on the reserve with torn clothing, and barefoot most of the time.

Rich was nothing more than the poorest of the poor, yet one of the most blessed men of our time. I believe this to be true, and I only need to listen to his mini-sermons between songs at concerts to know it to be true.

How could a simple man know so much? How could he be so simple in his teachings, yet be so profound at the same time? How does one man make me weep with pure shame and embarrassment to think that I had anything of favour to offer God Almighty?

The impact on my heart when I hear this man speak of what God means to him is nothing to be taken lightly. The impact on my heart when I go to the local mission and volunteer to serve the less fortunate is nothing to be brushed away. These are true, deep, passionate hurts, joys, aches and moments of true humility. I am ashamed to not understand God's mercy and love for us. And that's okay. God loves me anyways.

Having God in your life isn't for a "good feeling" or an "easy life". He's not there for our next "high" or "rush". We are closest to God when our hearts are merciful, when our hearts are hurting, when we are humbled and lack of all pride. That's when God truly comes into our hearts. I am reminded of the beatitudes and how Jesus taught us about the "meek inheriting the earth". And to be honest, sometimes these things are really hard to understand. But I believe that the closer we get our hearts connected to God, the more understanding we will have of everything.

Rich's music isn't perfect. Quite the contrary actually. It's kind of pitchy if you want to know the half of it. But his faith in the Lord, and his understanding of who he is in the Lord has helped me become a better Christian, by showing me all of my shortcomings. These are the things in life that no one wants to admit. These are the brutally honest things that you don't want to tell anyone, that you know they are specifically bad in life. These are the things that come forward when God really starts to reveal Himself in your heart and life. But, as believers, we can understand who "we" are in Him. We are His children with the pathetic drawings and scribbles of our lives posted on His fridge with magnets in Heaven and He stands and gazes upon our handy work with love in His heart and a smile on His face. We are the ones that He loves without cause and without ceasing, no matter what.

Lord let me shine some of that light to others. Let me walk for you. Let me love my neighbour, be faithful to my spouse, be hopeful in Your eyes Lord, and fear nothing.

Thank you Rich.

Richard Wayne Mullins (October 21, 1955 – September 19, 1997)

NJP

The funniest thing happened last night. Not funny as in "Ha Ha" funny, but funny in the sense that it was sort of weird.

We (the family and I) brought in the New Year with our Dad, after eight years had passed since he died. We watched home video's of him and the kids when they were small, all of us younger and a lot skinnier. But the strangest thing was that it didn't feel like any time had passed what so ever. There was no days or nights missing him, it hadn't accumulated to eight years since his passing, the kids weren't out partying to bring in the New Year it seemed. Everything was back "to normal" again. The accumulation of over 2920 days was gone. Weird indeed.

It sure was nice to hear his voice though. When you try and remember what he sounds like, you just can't seem to remember the exact tone I suppose. I feared this so much. Sure you remember the things he did, the silly mannerisms, the way he jumped up and down when he got over excited about things, but you don't actually remember in your mind the sound of someone's voice after they're gone for this amount of time. Well, not for me anyways.

Yup, we were all there. The "whole" family. Some of us were sportin' the bushy moustache, some of us were sportin' the lion's mane of hair from the 80's, but we were all there together. Something happens to a family when you suddenly take one of the members out of it. If you've ever experienced someone close to you dying, then you know that feeling. I guarantee you after last night, as far as I am concerned, the last eight years of my life could certainly have never existed. I can jump back to the good ole days when Dad was here in that split second, and it's as if the last eight years, never happened. It's very strange that's for sure.

But what a treat to see him there, to have him back with us for a little while. (It's as if you never left Dad.) I don't think of him much during the course of everyday living. It just brings tears to my eyes and there never seems to be a convenient time to cry, or to hurt. So I just avoid it most days. Who would want to intentionally hurt themselves right? Not me, that's who. So the pictures have never made it to the walls, and the thoughts of those wonderful times and silly things he did, are kept at bay. It's just a survival mode I think, but it's all I know how to do. I've managed to get through nearly 3000 days without him so, I've got to stick to that. It seems unbearable to think otherwise.

I wonder if we'll ever miss anyone quite the same after this. There sure is a lot of love for that man in our family. Mom just can't wait to see him again, and I'm sure in the secrets of her heart, prays to be there, where ever that is, with him. I'm not sure how the whole "where does your soul go after you die" thing works. The book of Revelations talks about Jesus Christ our Saviour coming back for all those of us who are saved and believe in Him. It talks about Him coming back to judge the living and the dead. So until this time, what happens to the soul of a man? Does it stay dormant somewhere? Does it go directly to the Lord for Judgement at that time? Things I suppose we will never know while living. I'll have to read more about that in my bible.

What I do know for sure is that I, we, need to see him again. And there is no other way we could accept than being together again as a "whole" family. So if there is any chance that I can pray for this reunion, let my words be extremely clear, in saying that I pray for our "whole" family to become one again, in a state of eternity. It was great seeing you Dad. It was great starting off 2011 with you. No one knows what year will be their target date, the year that is forever associated with their death. We had no idea that we only had eight years left with you when we were filming those films. We had no idea that you wouldn't actually make it to see your grandchildren's weddings like you said you would in the video. Looks like it's up to us now to bring those embarrassing clips from when the kids were small to their weddings like you promised them you would do. I'll do it Dad. For you.

If 2011 marks the year of my own passing, let it be known here and now that I am with the Lord my Saviour. I got there because I believed in Him, and I asked Him to come into my heart as my Saviour. Do not cry for me when I am gone, it will be me who cries for you knowing that you are left here to fend for yourselves with grief to bear because of me. I have to have faith that we will all be together again some day, with never ever having to attend another funeral. Imagine that.

To my family I love so dear, let's enjoy Dad more often, to keep him near.
To my father, it was good seeing you again Dad. Miss you tons.
To Jesus my Lord, thank you for never leaving us, not even for a moment. It is through you we get all strength.

(http://www.mustangsrule2002.blogspot.com/)