Showing posts with label Youth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Youth. Show all posts
Monday, February 10, 2014
If a Picture Is Worth 1000 Words, What Are 1000 Prayers Worth?
This picture, for starters ...
Yesterday morning an anxious 22-year-old grandson made his way to Deb's home. He opened the front door and was greeted by a dear, familiar voice:
"How's my boy?"
"There's my Poppa!" he exclaimed, his voice catching in his throat.
And indeed, our beloved Dad / Poppa / Grandpa / Bop / brother/ uncle / pastor / teacher / mentor / friend is showing remarkable signs of unmistakably improved health.
We often quote the words of that ancient sage, Job: The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away ..."
Sunday morning the Lord gave - "strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow."
" ... Blessed be the name of the Lord."
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Monday, January 27, 2014
Power In The Blood
Just a brief post - this morning Dad has to go to the lab for blood work. He is having extreme pain in his right hip, which makes weight bearing difficult. Bronwyn and Deb are going to take him as Bronwyn's van will be easier for him to negotiate.
His wonderful doctor has ordered that the blood work be processed instantly and the results sent to her STAT.
There is knowledge in what is going on in his blood. And, as we have heard so often, knowledge is power. Therefore, there is power in the blood.
Which we, as children of God, already know. It was the shedding of Jesus' blood that has the power to give us all eternal life. And because of that life, even though Dad is so ill, so frail, we KNOW that the One who shed His blood for Dad that awful day is with him now, is watching as Dad gives some of his blood today.
Make no mistake - God is in control of all of this; He, who knows the end from the beginning, loves Dad more than any of us do; and we are so thankful.
RtL just received a comment from the girl I have been waiting to hear from. This 16-year-old girl adores Dad as much as any of his grandchildren do, both Ironside and Chelli grandchildren:
Dear Aunty Karyn, All of the youth at Berean had a special time of prayer after the service yesterday for Grandpa. I continue to pray and hope for a speedy recovery. May God give all of your family His grace during this difficult situation. Psalm 91:1,11 "He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways." Give my love to Grandpa.
Chloe
Please pray for him today; please remember him.
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Monday, December 9, 2013
The Parents' 2013 Christmas Event
First we start with dinner,
Leonard Cohen's anthem,
Ineffectual stingers,
Bearing our sorrows,
Multitude of praisers,
Reassuring angel,
Little lights a-twinkling,
Wild honey pot!
Pretty shoes and dove,
That black sheep,
Crunchy bugle snacks,
And their pictures on a gold tree
For the past six or seven years Elliot and Oliver have tried to do something to make their parents' Christmas sparkle. This year they decided on the Calgary Philharmonic Orchestra's annual performance of Handel's Messiah.
But an Event has to have build-up, of course, and a lot of discussion including eating (also of course! The two boys and their Auntie K love to eat together!) ensued:
Boston Pizza ...
Starbucks ...
Kinjo ...
We had to keep eating until we settled on the clues building up to December 6, and how it was all going to work. There was going to be one cryptic clue added to a tree each of the 11 days before the Messiah. Each clue would reference some song from the masterpiece.The last one - the one that invited The Parents to dinner - would be placed at the base of the tree on the morning of the 6th.
They were to tell their mother to take a picture of the tree each day and send it to Auntie K, who followed up on Facebook with the Twelve Days song you see above, as part of the clue.
They were not to give any other clues to The Parents until the last day.
Here are the solutions to the clues:
Day 12: Julia Child's confirmation trivet that we were on the right track, along with an invitation to Ruth's Chris Steakhouse
Day 11: The Hallelujah Chorus, of course!
Day 10: O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?
Day 9: He was despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.
Day 8: And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying:
Glory to God in the highest!
Day 7: (There were shepherds abiding in the field keeping watch over their flocks by night. And lo! The angel of the Lord came upon them and the glory of the Lord shone round about them and they were sore afraid.)
And the angel said unto them, Fear not; for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour which is Christ the Lord.
Day 6: The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: and they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.
Day 5: The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
Day 4: How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace!
Day 3: All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way ...
Day 2: The trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible!
Day 1: For unto us a child is born; unto us a son is given!
After a mouth-watering experience at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse we ran through the Plus 15 walkways, very necessary to Calgary winters and gratefully received by our party this night, to the Jack Singer Concert Hall. We slipped into our seats - Row E Centre - just as Michael Hope, the CPO's second bassoonist and so much more, prepared to deliver his opening remarks and acknowledgments.
Here is the official review from the Calgary Herald:
http://www.calgaryherald.com/Guest+conductor+Ivars+Taurins+delivers+vivid+Messiah+performance/9260125/story.html
From our vantage point, five rows away from the stage, the soloists did full justice to Handel. Perhaps Daniel Taylor was more fragile than I have heard him in the past, but we wondered if he was battling a sore throat or the like as he seemed to sip more water than usual. As for baritone Peter Harvey, his delivery was consistently high and his "Trumpet Shall Sound" was fresh and triumphant. Tenor Colin Balzer launched the evening with "Comfort Ye" and we knew we were in for a treat. But the astonishing gift of the evening was soprano Sherezade Panthaki, whose voice soared to high D on one memorable run and who sang each of her solos with understanding, grace and deep sympathy. Her exquisite delivery made me want to weep, made me glad I was sitting next to Bronwyn, made me want to share the moment with my friends Jane and Mary.
Conductor Ivars Taurins has to be mentioned - what he drew out from the orchestra and chorus was nothing short of mesmerizing. It was a fresh, crisp, quick Messiah to be sure; but at the same time his profound knowledge of the work enabled him to let the soloists set their own pace, confident that he would rally the instruments and voices back into time.
The Hallelujah Chorus left Bronwyn and me with tears rolling down our faces; and the Amen Chorus at the end sealed the evening, growing from a muted Amen to soar and swell in wave after wave until the rafters of the Jack Singer auditorium resounded with praise and confidence that "worthy [indeed] is the Lamb that was slain, and hath redeemed us to God by His blood, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing."
In my humble, untrained opinion, Handel's Messiah is like no other score ever written: its musicality and virtuosity is unquestioned, but it is more than that - it opens up the scriptures and sets the story of Jesus to music in a way never accomplished before or since. And this year's magnificent performance was one for the books.
The evening drew abruptly to a close as winter highway driving stared us in the face. Quick hugs and goodbyes and we went our separate ways, thanking God for Handel, thanking God for each other, thanking God for two young men who arrange a Christmas Event for their much-loved parents each December.
Hallelujah!
(Tafelmusik's recording of the Amen chorus; Ivars Taurins conducting)
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Breakfast With Brent
I will never be a morning person, although most days I can steel myself to get up and at it when day breaks.
But one day this semester it was easy for me to get going: I was meeting Brent for breakfast at the Belmont Diner - take one of my most favourite breakfast places and add in one of my most favourite people, and you have the perfect recipe for a wonderful morning!
Who knew when I hired Brent so long ago that almost seven years later we would be sitting together over Cody Scramblers and coffee (I never could convince him of the merits of tea ...) and catching up on what had been going on in our lives?
Who knew that that bashful teenager would turn into a fully fledged adult able to think for himself and able to tackle what life throws at him, both the tough and the tender?
It hasn't been easy to achieve all that he has accomplished in these years. It's required single-minded dedication, discipline at a level we don't witness in many post-adolescents; a denying himself some of the many extracurricular activities that university life offers at every turn; and a determination to succeed in reaching his goals.
And in all those tough areas, he has indeed more than succeeded.
Fortunately, there has always been in Brent a tender side too. He is part of Big Brothers / Big Sisters and every week he makes time for an elementary school kid who doesn't really know how to be a kid. Brent hangs out with him, plays games with him, and is generally the great big brother he's been to his own younger brother all these years. He also spends time with a senior citizen, going for coffee, listening to his stories. He's president of a mixed martial arts club. He runs marathons.
And - best of all! - he's met his match in a wonderful woman who complements him, challenges him, encourages him and cares for him.
The caption he has on this profile picture is "She's got it all" - and I would agree, because in addition to being more impressive, more endearing to me each time I've had the privilege of being in her company, I see how everything good she adds to his life, he brings back to hers.
Happy 22nd birthday, child of my heart. My Dad's life's verse is the one I want to leave you with as you enter into your last semester of undergrad and prepare for the fresh challenges ahead:
"Faithful is He who calls you, who also will do it." 1 Thessalonians 5:24
I am so very proud to be your friend.
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Sunday, December 1, 2013
Advent 2013, Week 1: Hope for the Wounded
My friend and almost-sister Sonnie noticed the mole and went in for yet another battery of tests.
My friend Jane noticed the bloating, couldn't endure the pain and went to the emergency room.
The news was not good for either of them.
O God, we want to cry, Why now? Why at this season? Why ever?
And this is the day we are supposed to focus on the first Sunday in Advent, ushering in the Season of Hope.
It was with a heavy heart that my car, Josephine, and I groped our way through the heavy fog to Big Valley Church. The road stretched long and lonely, winding down and down to the one-lane bridge:
The music stubbornly refused to give way to the hearts of the musicians trying to lead the singing.
When finally it was time for Pastor Allan Clark to speak, I was exhausted, without heart; without hope.
And the first thing he said, as he lit the Advent candle, was "Today we are going to learn about the Season of Hope."
Hope is so much more than wishing your football team wins the Grey Cup, or longing for a great home-cooked meal, he said.
A dictionary definition of hope is "a wish or desire accompanied by the expectation of its fulfilment." Hope itself is authored by God himself, Pastor Alan went on. After humankind's first act of disobedience, God made a promise:
I will put enmity between you [the serpent] and the woman,
and between your offspring and her offspring;
he shall bruise your head,
and you shall bruise his heel.”
—Genesis 3:15, ESV
And then he went on to touch on a few of the great figures of the Bible who - in the worst of circumstances - continued to have hope. Job, who suffered losses beyond belief in every way, physical, material, spiritual, emotional, still could say, in Job 19:23-27, that the hope of being in God's presence is what carried him through all his trials and tribulations.
Mighty King David, who managed to get himself embroiled in scandals or enmeshed in sorrow on a number of occasions, recognized in Psalm 71:5 that God was his hope, and not status, victory and wealth. That's why, time and again, he was able to come back and recommit his way to God with a repentant heart, seeking to get back into a right relationship with the one person who could give him lasting hope.
It was revealed to Paul, that great apostle, at the time of his conversion to Christianity how much he was going to have to suffer for God: Acts 9:15-16. And yet Paul had hope - later I pondered 2 Corinthians 1:8-10, which gives us this tremendous declaration:
8 For we do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself.9 Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. 10 He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again. (ESV)
Paul discovered the secret of hope; he experienced it for himself. He knew that our hope originates in God, that the only way we can have a hope-filled life is to abide in God.
People will fail us.
We will fail ourselves.
Only God will not fail.
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"Our hope is not found in our physical well-being, but founded in a God who loves us, who has good things planned for us," Pastor Allan summarized. "Thus we can glorify God through our circumstances."
And so to my beloved Sonnie and Jane, to my friends Lorne and Becky, to Beth, to Dad's friend Paul, to Sonnie's friend Colleen; to all of us who are wounded in one way or another at this so-called festive season, I leave you with the note my perspicacious 21-year-old nephew Matt wrote to his dear Sonnie:
It's a fight. You're the only one in the ring; a boxer. All the training, all the previous battles, they're done...nearly forgotten...it's you and your opponent, toe to toe. You begin to lose confidence and feel isolated. No one can bail you out, this is all on you. Now you feel lonely, then you hear "Hit 'em with all you've got!" It's a familiar voice, so you're not distracted; nay, you're emboldened, strengthened by it. This is the voice of your trainer, the chief of your corner. Now you remember that you didn't come here alone. The people in your corner, though they may have changed over the years, are your people. And this trainer? He's seen you through every fight, and always been there to give you words of advice and courage meant when you get knocked down. The people in your corner? They've been to some of your other bouts, and they want to see you win. They're cheering you on. They know they can't jump in the ring and actually fight for you, so between rounds they Q-tip your cuts and reduce your swelling. They pour water in your mouth, and while all this is happening, you're focused. Not on your opponent, not on your people, but on your trainer. You know that even though you're in the fight, He's got a plan for it. And win or lose, He'll see you through it. All any trainer wants us for their fighter to listen to their instructions and have faith that they know what's best.
Sonnie, I just want you to know that my family - our family - the family of God is in your corner. The Lord is in charge, and He has a fight strategy planned out. He knows how it'll go down because He knows us better than we know ourselves, but He doesn't tell us because He wants to see that we can trust in His word and instruction, and that win or lose, He is with us and loves us. It's our faith in Him to lead us that counts, not our performance in the ring. The thing is, He knows that it gets lonely in a 1 on 1 fight, so He brings people to support us and stand in our corner, to cheer us on. People He knows will mourn if we lose and rejoice if we win, who hold out for us no matter if we get knocked down and stagger up or win in the first round. People who through the whole fight want to be there to support us and hope we win. The trainer is the only one who knows, and the corner offers support, because He knows we need it. God's got a plan, and we've got your back. We love you Sonnie. Try as you might to get rid of us, we are in your corner, cheering you on in your fight.
"Win or lose." Active, living HOPE.
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| Advent wreath at Big Valley Church |
Monday, November 11, 2013
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
The Desert and the Josh Tree
This time two years ago ago we were preparing for your funeral. The shock of your death hung in the air like ghostly ice crystals on a crisp November morning.
You're probably used to a whole different way of keeping track of time now. But I'm staying with the boys - just like I was two years ago - and I'm listening to your buddy Oliver upstairs, on a take-your-kid-to-work morning, watching a video on his computer and chuckling every few seconds, and I'm wondering which job you would be going to shadow today, what you might be interested in perusing if high school were to loom large in your future.
I think of you often, boy I never met who, regardless, resides in my heart. I think of your parents and your sibs and your aunts and uncles.
This morning as I thought of them and prayed for them, the sweet promise of the prophet Isaiah came to my mind:
The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad; and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose (Isaiah 35:1)
They have gone through the wilderness, your family has; they have lived in the solitary place. Grief is that way, as you know, Josh - it hits you in waves, sorrow smashing over you and pummeling you into the gritty sand you were trying to ignore below as you crested, happy and free, for a few seconds of bliss.
The desert of the verse in Isaiah is the beach minus the waves - nothing to exult in, to relieve the dryness, the sameness, the desolation.
The promise, though, is that there shall be tiny signs of life, there shall be tender shoots of joy that poke their heads up almost against their will.
Remember my Josh Tree, named after you, the little lilac tree given me by BA and Deb? Someone expert in horticulture told me last year to pull it up, throw it out; there was no hope for that dead little twig, she said.
Here is how it looked this summer:
It was bursting with life and colour; and if you got close enough, you could catch a delicate perfume pushing its way determinedly from its blooms.
O Josh, there is life; there is hope, as we heard at your funeral:
There is hope for the helpless, rest for the weary
Love for the broken heart
There is grace and forgiveness, mercy and healing
He'll meet you wherever you are
Just cry out to Jesus
Cry out to Jesus
When you're lonely and it feels like the whole world is falling on you
You just reach out, you just cry out to Jesus
Cry to Jesus
But if you think your friends don't think of you, don't miss you still, listen to the song Oliver was playing on his guitar this morning, shortly after we had been talking about you. (I wonder, would Death Cab for Cutie have been one of your current favourite bands too?)
You are not forgotten, dear Josh ...
Thursday, October 31, 2013
The Final Thank You for October
Judging from the number of posts, I am not very thankful! Quite the contrary - my heart has been brimming with gratitude this month more than most. God has been so good to me; my family has been so dear; friends have sustained me. I just haven't had the time.
One of my favourite days of this whole month was Thanksgiving Day itself, so I'm going to leave this season of gratitude with some pictures, accompanied by the words to our dear friend Martha Wunsch's favourite song:
How good is the God we adore
Our faithful, unchangeable friend
Whose love is as great as His power
And knows neither measure nor end!
'Tis Jesus, the First and the Last,

Whose spirit shall guide us safe home
We'll praise Him for all that is past

And trust Him for all that's to come!
Happy Thanksgiving Month, everyone!
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