Quietly I wonder thoughts twist inside my head memories and questions and tears I once did shed He laughed with us not long ago corny jokes he told his eyes alight and smiling mine would merely roll But that laughter now is quiet on earth we do not hear but up there in heaven the joy is very near On earth we ask the question "why'd he have to die?" but you see, up there in heaven he's praising God Most High His job was finished at least the earthly part so God took him away to the home of his heart Today would be his birthday I think of all he left behind but he and God don't feel that way so contentment I will find In God who's plans are always good and who never leaves my side He hears, He sees, He knows the hurt in His love I will abide
Posts
In a store front with a yellow canopy there sits a church. It's small. So small you would almost miss it as you drive past if it wasn't for the people floating in and out. Families loaded with small children and too many bags enter in a slow clump as a lady helps with their coats. A young couple with their Bibles under their arms and a Tupperware container of cookies follow. A few singles file in. The noise doesn't stop. It merely escalates as the family of Christ comes together. Two men carry a sign out onto the street with the words "JOIN US FOR CHURCH AT 10:00 & 3:00" The people inside put their things down and try to get their children settled as they share stories about their week; some stories for smiles and some for tears. Visitors arrive late and a regular attendee stands up to get them song books and a Bible and helps them find a seat. Finally the minster takes his place and announces the first song. A strong voice leads and the others quic...
Very thankful today remembering all the men and women who have served and suffered for our country. Thank you to the men who fought in the wars of the current and previous century and to the women and children who supported them and were willing to sacrifice the man they loved most for the sake of a cause--the cause to preserve life and justice. This makes me think of us today. Even though most of my friends aren't in the military we all are in some kind of battle. We too ought to be fighting for life and justice here at home. If you think Canada is a nation that loves life you should think again. A startling fact I recently heard was that Canada is one of the three countries in the world that doesn't have any kind of law in regard to abortion--right up there with China and North Korea. So life is not so important to Canadians. It turns out justice isn't either. Restitution is a foreign concept to most of us. Why should I pay you for the money I stole when I could do a ...
Children are a big part of life. In fact, they seem to radiate life. If you walk down the hall of nursing home with a child's hand in your own the faces of all those who see you, or rather the child, will light up. Children are believers, trusting, hopeful, creative, and always looking to something they have yet to obtain and yet are still content with what they have. Children have always been a big part of my life. And it is from these little people that I have learned many things. The five boys I used to babysit taught me how to climb hay bales, scrape feed, play with their farm animals, and also kindly inform me that they can do somethings better without my help (like build their Lego trucks and planes.) They taught me how to deal with conflict and laugh at their antics. The children at church teach me what love is when they share their toys and books and hug their mothers close. My music students teach me to explore and wonder and learn and overcome hard things. Proverbs 2...
In his book, The Five Love Languages , Gary Chapman speaks primarily to spouses about the different ways to love each other. He categorizes how we love each other into 5 different sections; touch, acts of service, time, words of affirmation, and gifts. The issue he deals with is that different people have different love languages. It can be frustrating to be married to (or friends with someone) whose primary love language is touch while yours is gifts. He encourages people to learn the love language of their spouse; and I would like to add to this by encouraging my readers to learn the love languages of their friends and family. I've always enjoyed the concept of love languages because it's interesting to see how God made us all differently. Over the past several weeks I've been thinking about them when it comes to single people, specifically who fills up a single person's love cup? Then I thought about who fills up my love cup and the answer was so beautiful that I ...
Last week a group of about 180 young people made a great migration up north to Bracebridge, ON. They gathered at a camp, Camp Tamarack, and there they were introduced to 6 chaperoning couples and 3 different speakers. The theme of the week was gratitude, taken from Col. 3&4. Upon arrival each person was given their own book with all the information they would need throughout the week including their cabin number, sport's team, discussion groups, workshops, map, schedule, and room to write notes. The campers threw their stuff into their cabins and went down to the theater to hear the rules of camp. Following rules and welcome Rev. Bouwers came forward to speak about the focus of our gratitude; namely Christ. After the seminary we went to our designated discussion groups and then back to our cabins to finish unpacking. Dinner followed shortly after and then we changed into our grubby clothes to get down and dirty in Opening Games. I never really knew what the purpose of openi...
Today I was leafing through the newspaper when a thick pink piece of cardboard fell out. It was covered with dark pink words and pictures of girls. DEFEND GIRLS were the bold words in the top left corner of one side with more information on the back. Oh , I thought, that's nice that people are bringing awareness to the genocide of unborn girls. I already believe that's wrong . I was about to throw the paper in the garbage when I read these words on the back "what can you do?" I stopped. What could I do? I don't know any abortionists and I'm not facebook friends with the Prime Minister. It's not like I normally interact with powerful people who make laws or with people who would want to kill their baby before he/she is born. I was going to throw out the paper again when I saw some websites on the bottom of the flier. I should at least look them up . I did. The fact that I was going to just throw the flier out because I already disagree with all ...
After my last post it was brought to my attention that modesty rules don't apply only to women. A comment was brought up that there have been a lot of spandex legs walking around lately with the warmer weather and the need to exercise out of doors. Let me just speak the unspoken rule that spandex (and it close relative; leggings) are not pants and should not be treated as such...EVER. Now that we have that cleared up I would like to share with you something that is a bigger problem among men when it comes to them being modest toward women. It has to do with emotions (you know, those feeling inside of you that make you do things. Men seem to think they don't have any of them while women have been blessed in abundance.) The dictionary definition of modesty is "regard for decency of behavior, speech, dress"(from dictionary.com). The problem men face in being modest is not so much in their dress (now that we've dealt with the issue of spandex) but with the issue of...
Winter is finally over and that means flowers, sunshine, warm weather, the beach, sports, and Christian magazines printing articles about modesty. I was thinking about this last week when I saw two fifteen-year-old church girls, one with yoga pants that outlined her panties and the other with shorts that resembled jean underwear with pockets, and I thought "I don't think those articles with rules about modesty make a difference." Here's why. The church today seems to be more interested in the outcome than the principle. We would rather deal with the repercussions than to nip them in the bud. We live in a society that is existential and self-seeking and we are raising young people that are believing the lie of post-modernism. Everyone should be able to do whatever they want, whenever they want, because they want to. There is little thought for others in our society (especially those who cannot benefit me) and that thought has not merely "dripped" into th...
It must be almost a week and a half since I walked among the stones. Some were old and laying covered in a bed of grass to sleep; their owners under them. The one I came to see was new and it stood straight up with the family name proudly displayed at the top. A cross went down the middle and while the dates on the left were missing, the right side displayed a name. Jack. Aug 8, 1932-Nov 23,2011 Now I hadn't been to see his grave since the day we laid my grandfather in it but much to my delight these words were under the date; "I know that my Redeemer lives" Job 19:25 I continued to walk among the stones. Some had phrases like "beloved husband and father" "mother of" some had Bible verses, and one said "at peace at last." I wondered what kind of a person lay underneath such a stone. Had this person struggled long with his fight on earth? Had he really found peace when he departed? I circled around and came back to stand before my gr...
There is something delightful about surveying your crumpled home after a particularly good visit. Its almost as though your house doesn't know that everyone is gone and you're the only one left to put things back in order. You see, the place still wants to laugh. The carpet is clothed with crumbs from the chocolate cake, the couch cushions are squished together in an awkward fashion rather than cuddling nicely side by side, the toy airplane is lonely on the floor next to the piano, and the teapot is begging me to boil more water and fill her up so she can hear another good conversation. I do turn on the kettle for one more cup of tea before bed and then fill the sink with water to move the dishes from the dirty side of the counter to their drying rack. Yes it was a particularly good visit. There was laughter, advice, serious conversation, cake, and tea. What else could you wish for? As I scrub away I think about hospitality and that verse in Hebrews 13 about entertaining st...
S5. That's what the ticket said. Finding our seats in the middle of the first floor of the bright auditorium, we sit down. Music, if you could call it that, flitters through the air as one by one people dressed completely in black take their places on the stage and begin to tune, then they remember something and go back behind the curtain. This dance continues for several minutes. Musicians going back and forth, spectators finding their seats, aids handing out programs. Once everyone is more or less settled the lights go dark, a violinist in a tux comes onto the stage, everyone tunes to his string, and then the conductor arrives. The applause are silenced as he raises his baton and Brahm's Third Symphony begins. Fast, slow, happy, sad, playful, depressed, and sometimes silent, the music fills the room. There are many different instruments. Not everyone plays violin or drums or trumpet. Not everyone plays the same notes, timing, or in the same key depending ...
I believe for the most part we all have good pastors who we really respect. Generally they have good sermons that point us to Christ and admonish us to be godly. But let's face it; sometimes their sermons leave something to be desired. They just aren't getting through to us. Maybe they were really busy this week. Maybe they were sick. Maybe there was a family issue. We think. Or, maybe you weren't praying for him throughout the week. Yes that's right, maybe the pastor was working really hard all week, studying a ton, spending much time in prayer, and he thought he put together a great sermon, but because you weren't praying for him 1. your heart wasn't ready to listen, and 2. he didn't receive the encouragement and blessings he would have gotten from your prayers. Next time you complain about a sermon you heard that you didn't like, ask yourself this question; how much time did I spend in prayer for my pastor this week? How much did I...
Hi, I'm a girl. Sometimes I wonder if you forget about that. Sure I know how to work hard and get dirty and talk about cars but I'm still a girl. I just thought I should clear up some stuff you might not know or you might have forgotten. Sometimes I like to dress up. I do my hair and wear heels because it makes me feel pretty (yeah, girls like to look pretty, I think it's because we all want to be princesses). But I don't have to look pretty all the time. When there are gardens to weed and work to be done then I will gladly get dirty and do it, but sometimes it is nice to be pretty. And even if I don't look pretty it's super nice if you open the door for me and help me carry stuff. I also really like to laugh. A lot of things make me laugh. Life is funny. But sometimes I also cry. I don't always know why I'm crying but it doesn't really matter. And I don't always know what makes it better either. Sometimes I need hugs, and sometimes I need to...
Buried deep down inside of mankind I believe there is a desire to change the world--for better or for worse. People want to be recognized. No one wants to die and leave only their name and some dates on their gravestone for people to remember. No, we want people to walk by and say "there's _______ grave; he cured cancer." But let's be real; that probably isn't going to happen. Most of us will simply work, have families, live in communities, and die with just our names and the dates on our stones. Our loved ones will remember us for a few years but they'll move on and then all we will be to this world is dust. In day to day life it might seem like you're not doing anything that's all that important. You go to work, make supper, clean your car, read your Bible, and visit your friends, but what difference does it make? I moved a little over a year ago (probably expecting too much) but nothing big has happened and I wonder why God wanted me to move at ...