Happy Holiday Season!

Here are a few of my favorites:

Oh Holy Night

Silent Night

Little Drummer Boy

Handel’s Messiah

The King is Born

Don’t miss this one!

See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! (The Bible, NIV, 1 John 3:1)

Can you imagine what it would be like if you had to make an appointment with God?

Hello, this is Joy calling. Is this the house of God?

Yes, this is the house of God. I am one of His angel messengers. How may I help you?

I would like to speak with God. I have a few things to share with my Father and it’s been quite awhile since I spoke with Him.

Well, do you have an appointment?

No, I don’t. Do I need one?

Of course you do. Haven’t you ever asked yourself, how big is God? Don’t you know that He is King over all the heavens and earth? He has demands on his time all the time (although He doesn’t relate to the meaning of time).

He deals with holding up the whole universe and needs to check everything out on a regular basis and that takes eons.

And He needs to ensure that the seasons function properly. They’ve been known to go awry at times. He doesn’t like everything to work precisely like clockwork though because He likes to surprise his children every once in awhile, like snow in August or rain in January in your part of the world.

He is also very busy dealing with the myriad of messages that we, his angels, keep bringing to Him, faster than the speed of light, from all over the world you live in.

There is a lot of crying and heartache in your world that He deals with constantly when those messages arrive.

And sometimes, but far less than the messages of sadness, we bring messages of joy from His children who have discovered what life is all about – those who have discovered that they are not on Planet Earth to be served, but to serve. And whenever they do serve, it makes them radiate with joy, and they just love to tell their Father about it.

But all I need is 15 minutes. I want to connect with Him again. It’s been so long and I feel like it’s time to touch base.

Fifteen minutes? Do you know what God can accomplish in 15 minutes? He can deal with a billion prayers. He can bring forth life to millions of new creatures – human, animal, plant life. He can create a thousand worlds.

And you want 15 minutes? Don’t you think that would interrupt the flow of His schedule? Don’t you think it would result in some people’s prayers not being answered? Or new life not unfolding as it should?

Why do you think you are entitled to 15 minutes?

I changed my mind. I don’t want 15 minutes. I want an hour with my Father. I want the time because He is my Father.

I want the time because, as you said, time means nothing to Him. And yet, I know it means everything to Him when we, His children, want to spend time with Him. Time is so valuable in our world of 24 hours that an hour, or even 15 minutes, in a day shows that we make Him a priority in our lives.

I know that He doesn’t have to juggle all those other things. You asked if I’d thought about how big God is. Yes, I have.

He is big enough to hold up a whole universe and still look down at this world and bring light and warmth and keep plants growing without a second thought.

He is big enough that He can hear a million cries and still hear my quiet sobs as I lie in bed at night and comfort me.

He is big enough that He can hear all the prayers of gratitude that you bring to Him from this earth and still hear me when I tell Him that I was thankful today as I watched my dog run and play because it brought me such joy to see her running free. And when He hears that, I know He smiles and His heart is full because He wants nothing more than to give me joy. Because I am His child and He loves me.

So forget about setting up an appointment. I’m showing up in person and I’m going to walk right on in. I know I don’t need to put on my fancy clothes or fix my hair. I can come to Him in a bathrobe and pajamas or in a dress.

I think He’d rather see me in pajamas than a dress though because that would mean I just woke up. And I know that the morning is such a great time to meet with Him – when I am rested and fresh, when I haven’t gotten into the busy activities of the day, when I am still totally open to His spirit.

I am so glad to know that He takes me as I am – whatever head space I’m in, whatever heart space I’m in, happy or sad, joyful or mad. I don’t need to pretend I’m something that I’m not when I come into His presence. I can be me.

I am enough when I’m with Him. Always enough for the love He pours on me. Just as I am, I come.

All I want is a little chat with my Father, my Dad. And I’m coming in. Sorry, but you don’t need to do any appointment scheduling for me.

The greatest opportunity to fix bullying or harassment would be with the bystanders. There are many more bystanders than there are bullies and victims. (Jerry Misik)

Making the Bus Monitor Cry

“Degrading”, “disgusting”, “despicable”… The images of 68-year-old Karen Klein on the Youtube video, Making the Bus Monitor Cry, caused those D-words to reverberate through my head. And I read the same words repeatedly as I followed the online reaction over the past few days and realized I was not alone in feeling the emotions that surfaced from deep inside me.

This tragic bullying incident less than two weeks ago has caused a tsunami wave of sympathy and support for a victim of bullying in America. The graphic images and words continue to haunt me as I reflect on what has occurred.

“Monsters”, “feral minded”, “Lord of the Flies” … Harsh words about the bullies from the media, which has sensationalized the story to the point that ongoing extreme emotional response from the public continues. (Whatever happened to unbiased reporting which was at one time the code of newscasters?)

Now the same world that has cried out against bullying has uttered thousands of death threats against the perpetrators, Grade 7 students who have quickly learned that bullying is not OK, that they cannot leave helpless victims in their wake and get away with it.

What’s Missing in This Story?

But something is missing in this story and I am as angry about that as I am about the original situation – no-one is speaking up for the silent victims who have not yet been heard (at least, I have read nothing about the other victims in the numerous articles, blog posts and corresponding comments I’ve read to date).

I tried to point it out in a comment I made on a blog post, Bullied School Bus Driver a Class Act,  but I was reprimanded by another commenter who said, “Could it be that you are a parent of a child who is a bully? …. Shame on you.” So I’m almost afraid to try to make my point again because it could easily be lost as readers jump once again to defend the victim they’ve seen and heard, while they ignore the faceless, silent victims who have not been heard, at the same time as they judge me for my perceived heartlessness and lack of compassion.

Faceless, Silent Victims

Who are the faceless, silent victims? They are other children on the same bus, children who have likely been victimized as much as Karen Klein, children who have cowered in a corner with no-one to protect them from those four boys.

Who are the faceless, silent victims? I can only see and hear them in my imagination, but this is what I see and hear:
- terrified 5-year-old Tamara, in tears when the bullies grab her schoolbag and call her a “baby” on a daily basis,
- timid 6-year-old Alonso, mocked relentlessly for his broken English,
- self-conscious 7-year-old Makayla, laughed at because she lives in a run-down shack,
- humiliated 8-year-old Akia, labelled a “weakling” because he is smaller than other boys his age,
- introverted 9-year-old Paloma, ridiculed because she has only hand-me-down clothes to wear,
- mortified 10-year-old Mojag, taunted ruthlessly because he is “dumb”,
- ostracized 11-year-old Aniyah, relentlessly badgered and subjected to cruel “fat” jokes,
- embarrassed 12-year-old Isaiah, teased for his lack of coordination in sports activities, and
- self-conscious 13-year-old Wyanet, repeatedly enduring the words “pimple-face”, as she wrestles with the teenage scourge of acne.

Why Can’t the World See and Hear Them Too?

Why can’t the world see their faces drenched with tears? Why can’t the world hear their cries as the tsunami rages over them? Why has everyone turned their hearts only to one victim fighting to keep her head above the surging waves of cruelty? Why haven’t I heard anyone speak out about other bullying incidents on the bus where helpless children have been damaged emotionally because their bus monitor didn’t do her job?

My second comment on the other blog, a reply to the woman who responded to me, included the following lengthy expression of why I made my first comment:

“Karen Klein herself said during one national newscast that this had happened several times before. When I heard that, it triggered something deep inside me – all I could think about was that other young children on the bus had likely endured bullying at the hands of the same bullies unnecessarily. Unnecessarily because Karen could have dealt with the situation from the beginning as a mature adult, not as a fearful child. She could have spoken up, she could have spoken to the school administration, she could have, she could have, she could have…. But she didn’t. Why? Lack of training? Lack of skills? Lack of ?? I don’t know, but it is abundantly clear that she was not the right person for the job. Yes, the children had free will but so did Karen – to make choices in ensuring she had the resources necessary to do the job she was paid to do – all adults have that responsibility.

The blog post says, “She was there to maintain discipline and safety but instead she was bullied verbally and physically relentlessly for over 10 minutes by some of the young kids she was there to protect.” Sadly, Karen did not maintain discipline and safety and certainly did not protect the young kids. Her behavior does not demonstrate to me that she was looking out for the kids, as the blog poster said. And I find it puzzling that the author interprets that as a “class act.”

I have deep compassion for anything or anyone who is helpless. My heart simply turned to those more helpless than Karen. I visualized children being taunted and her watching and doing nothing. I felt she had betrayed the children who needed her protection most. I am aware of several young people over the past several months who have taken their own lives because of bullying. Hence, my reaction in my comment above. I do not apologize for it. I will accept your “shame on you” comment simply as that of someone who is ill-informed on the whole matter or someone has reacted to only one aspect of the broader issue. Bullying must stop, but adults must lead by example – using the wisdom of their years of life experience, appropriate training, intervention skills, and other available resources – to ensure children do not have to face the type of experience that Karen endured.”

I hope my comments will not continue to misjudged. Take at look at those other faces of fear, of embarrassment, of terror, of hopelessness. Listen to their cries of despair. Reflect on how they too have been betrayed by the bullies and by the bystanders – other students on the bus, the school bus monitor and bus driver, and the school administration.

Yes, I have written a lot of words in this post, but so few in comparison to what has been written for another victim of injustice. I hope my words will somehow help to compensate in some small way for the faceless, silent victims who have not yet been seen and heard.

Did you know… when youth stand up and speak out against bullying, they are successful in stopping the bullying behaviour about 57% of the time in 10 seconds. (www.redcross.ca, Stop Bullying Now)

Watch your thoughts; they become words.

Watch your words; they become actions.

Watch your actions; they become habits.

Watch your habits; they become character.

Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.

~ Unknown

Happy Easter

He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Mathew 28:6, NIV

If this video doesn’t fill your heart till it feels like bursting, I don’t know what will.  :-)

Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”). (Mathew 27:46)

I Really Don’t Need This – The Price of Calvary!

Late last night, My disciples ran away when I was arrested. Now since early morning I’ve been dragged back and forth between the Pharisees, Pilate and King Herod. It’s been a terrible few hours.

I don’t need this! The degradation of Roman soldiers making fun of Me as they throw a king’s robe around Me. I don’t need them shaping a crown of thorns – piercing sharp thorns – that puncture My scalp and make My head feel like it is going to rupture from pulsating pain. I don’t need to endure the guttural sounds as those soldiers clear phlegm from their throats and spew it with disgust into My face and eyes. I am a king. I could strike them down with one word.

No, I don’t need this! All of you in the crowd who are laughing and swearing, screaming with sadistic pleasure as you watch Me being tortured by the soldiers. I hear your humiliating words and see your vulgar gestures, even as I am dragged about the courtyard with blood pouring down My face and the rest of My body onto the kingly robe. I am the king of heaven and angels once bowed before Me with adoration and songs of praise, honored to be in My presence.

And I don’t need this! The heavy cross that I can no longer drag on My shoulders because of sheer physical exhaustion and the horrific pain from the courtyard torture I just suffered. I don’t need to lie here in the dirt, crushed beneath the weight of the cross only to turn My head upward and to see you laughing at Me, calling Me a weakling and kicking Me in the side to get Me standing again. I am all-powerful. I could get up and with one word suspend a thousand crosses in the air.

I really don’t need this! Submitting humbly to Roman soldiers as they throw Me to the ground, then roll Me onto the cross, putting huge spikes into My hands and feet and pounding them in as every muscle fiber and sinew screams with excruciating pain. Then feeling the pain exploding from deep within as they shove the cross forcefully into the ground. And hanging there almost naked as you look on and ridicule Me. Then seeing the heart-wrenching sight of My mother held up by John, as she cries uncontrollably. But I am all-merciful. I give My mother to John to care for her. And I ask My Father’s forgiveness for you who mock Me.

And most of all, I don’t need this! To be enveloped in the blackest blackness and to feel I have lost the relationship that I’ve had with My Father since eternity. To cry out and ask Him why He has forsaken Me and to feel like He has withdrawn His love from Me. To think He sees Me only as sin, complete and total sin, in all its ugliness. To believe He has turned His back on Me and will never accept Me again because sin is the antithesis of God and cannot stand in His presence. I was the Son of God but now I am sin. I am lost. I am without hope. I am nothing. I really don’t need this!

Oh Yes, I Really Need This – The Rewards of Calvary!

I don’t need this… but you do! You needed Me to come as a baby, to be teased as a child, to be rejected as a man, to face a death that no-one could even imagine. You needed this… what I endured… you who face the despair of this world without the hope I offer, you who have nothingness beyond the grave without the eternal life I promise.

And because I love every one of you who need this, then I really need this too.

Oh yes, I need this because My heart is bursting with love for the creations I made. I need this because you are My brothers and sisters and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I need this because I want to show to the universe that My Father God is a God of justice and righteousness, a God to be honored above everything because He is the epitome of love in its purest form. I need this because eternity wouldn’t be the same for My Father, the Holy Spirit, or Me if I didn’t walk to Calvary to make it possible for you to be part of that eternity.

I need this because it taught Me, as I hung on the cross, what it felt like to be eternally separated from My Father – when I cried, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken Me?” Those few moments in time made Me realize even more than I could have ever imagined that My Father, I and the Holy Spirit are One. The sense of separation I endured was like a ripping apart of the very fiber of Our beings as it felt like My Father and the Spirit were moving swiftly away into an eternity where I wouldn’t be a part of Them any longer. And I didn’t want you to feel that sense of separation from your Maker too, which comes as a result of sin.

I need this because now that I am back with My Father and the Holy Spirit in the celestial center of the universe, I can speak on your behalf to My Father. I can speak of the men, women and children on Earth who struggle, who fight battles because of the enemy that never stops the barrage against them. I can talk to My Father about you and all the pain you endure, the struggles you deal with, the times you fail and the times you succeed.

And You Need This Too – The Blood of Calvary!

And always, I can tell My Father, she is My sister, he is My brother. For them, I wore the spit as it landed on Me and slid down My face. For them, I wore the piercing thorns in the crown on My head and the raw open wounds from the beatings and whippings I endured. For them, I wore the robe of mockery and bore the weight of the cross on My shoulders until I could carry it no more. For them, I felt the physical torture when the nails went into My hands and feet and as I hung there with My body physically ripping apart. For them, I felt the humiliation as people screamed at, swore at, and taunted Me hanging there physically exposed. For them, I felt the isolation as My followers deserted Me and the despair of total aloneness as You, Father, remained hidden in the blackness of the cloud.

And because of all that, My sisters and brothers who believe in Me have told Me they are willing – ashamed but willing – to let Me speak before My Father on their behalf. They said they will let My blood be their blood. They said they will let My sacrifice as the Lamb of God be their sacrifice. They said they want Me to stand as both their lawyer and their judge to plead their case for forgiveness and to grant forgiveness to them. They said they want My pure white robe to be their robe to show their purity through Me to the Father.

So yes, I really need this and you need this too. My blood, My sacrifice, My life, My death, My resurrection, gives hope to the hopeless, forgiveness to those who don’t believe they deserve it, and eternal life to all those who say, “Thank you for taking My place, Lord, I claim your blood. Thank you for taking that walk to Calvary.”

And that simple thank you from YOU is worth every tortured step I took. Yes, I really need that too!

The following is taken from the God Vine.

For the next 60 seconds, set aside whatever you’re doing and read this. So powerful.

At the age of 33, Jesus was condemned to the death penalty.

At the time crucifixion was the “worst” death. Only the worst criminals condemned to be crucified. Yet it was even more dreadful for Jesus, unlike other criminals condemned to death by crucifixion, Jesus was to be nailed to the cross by His hands and feet.

Each nail was 6 to 8 inches long.

The nails were driven into His wrist.
Not into His palms as is commonly portrayed.
There’s a tendon in the wrist that extends to the shoulder.
The Roman guards knew that when the nails were being hammered into the wrist, that tendon would tear and break, forcing Jesus to use His back muscles to support himself so that He could breathe.

Both of His feet were nailed together.
Thus He was forced to support Himself on the single nail that impaled His feet to the cross.
Jesus could not support himself with His legs because of the pain, so He was forced to alternate between arching His back then using his legs just to continue to breathe.
Imagine the struggle, the pain, the suffering, the courage.

Jesus endured this reality for over 3 hours.

Yes, over 3 hours!
Can you imagine this kind of suffering?
A few minutes before He died,
Jesus stopped bleeding.
He was simply pouring water from his wounds.

From common images, we see wounds to His hands and feet and even the spear wound to His side…
But do we realize His wounds were actually made in his body.
A hammer driving large nails through the wrist, the feet overlapped and an even large nail hammered through the arches,
then a Roman guard piercing His side with a spear.
But before the nails and the spear, Jesus was whipped and beaten.
The whipping was so severe that it tore the flesh from His body.
The beating so horrific that His face was torn and his beard ripped from His face.
The crown of thorns cut deeply into His scalp.
Most men would not have survived this torture.

He had no more blood to bleed out,
only water poured from His wounds.
The human adult body contains about 3.5 liters (just less than a gallon) of blood.

Jesus poured all 3.5 liters of his blood;
He had three nails hammered into His members;
a crown of thorns on His head and, beyond that,
a Roman soldier who stabbed a spear into His side.

All these without mentioning the humiliation
He passed after carrying His own cross for almost 2 kilometers,
while the crowd spat in his face and threw stones
(the cross was almost 30 kg of weight, only for its higher part,
where His hands were nailed).

Jesus had to endure this experience, so that we can have free access to God.

So that our sins could be “washed” away. All of them, with no exception!

JESUS CHRIST DIED FOR US!

For he commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof. (The Bible, Psalms 107:25, NIV)

Disciples on the Sea

I see the disciples on the Sea of Galilee. Jesus stayed behind to dismiss the crowd after teaching all day on the mountainside. He decided to take a break to rejuvenate and commune with His Father. He sent the disciples in the boat to the other side of the sea and told them He would meet them there.

They used their oars – strong men, some fishermen who were used to fishing at night. They’d had lots of practice in battling wind and waves. But this night was different than all the others. This was one storm they couldn’t fight against. They tried, but the rain and the wind and waves were too strong. What made this storm so different? Jesus was in control of the wind and waves. Did He breathe the storm into existence, a storm designed to teach a lesson to His followers?

How to Make Jesus King

They wanted Jesus to be king. They were strategizing how to make that happen. They probably expected to see Him on the other side the next morning. They were eager to greet Him with their brilliant scheme – rise up, assert Yourself, declare Yourself King of the Jews, the people are on Your side after all the miracles You’ve done. You fed thousands with only a few loaves and fish. You can take down the army of Rome with only a few words. You can command anything and anyone. We’d be honoured to be part of your inner court. There’s just the small problem of who gets to be number one advisor to You.

Supernatural Storm?

But in the darkness of the night with the howling wind screaming in their ears, they caught glimpses of fear in each other’s faces, as lightning flashed across the sky. How could the night end so badly after such a great day with Jesus? Doubts crept in. Even those known for their strength and prowess in navigating any kind of waters were trembling inside even if their faces didn’t portray the terror they felt. They had not fought a battle against the sea like this one – it seemed almost supernatural. Where did the storm come from? One minute the water was calm, the next the waves were crashing over the bow.

Where was Jesus when they needed Him? Why did He leave them to cross the sea alone? They had spent so much time with Him, stayed close to Him daily, put their own lives on hold to walk with Him just because He said, “Follow Me.” Why? What did He say or do or how did He look at them that made them throw away their livelihoods to follow someone who had abandoned them now?

Here they thought they were in a good place, going somewhere, soon to be courtiers with fancy robes, worth it to leave other things behind to have that kind of reward – rich foods, fancy clothes, beautiful women (yes, I know, said some, I guess I’ll have to bring my wife along, wish I was single like John).

Now, all they had invested was likely to be lost – they were going to die. The waves were going to take them down to a watery grave. They deserved better than this. They didn’t choose to die. Where was Jesus? Why wasn’t He there? “Oh Jesus, we need You,” they cried. “Help us, we perish,” they cried.

A Strange Light on the Water

What? Was that a light across the darkness? Or was it just another lightning flash? No, it was a light travelling across the top of the water. Some reflected light from somewhere? Hard to see as the waves kept crashing over, as they kept bailing out the boat, some trying to keep the boat upright with the oars, others bailing faster and faster, terror in all their eyes. But John said, “Look. What is it? Something strange on the water. Can you make it out?”

James, at one of the large heavy wooden oars, glanced up quickly and said, “I see it too. It’s getting closer. A spirit? Is it an evil spirit coming to take us down – is it the spirit of death? Is this the end? Oh Jesus, where are You?”

Peter, another oarsman, looked up, a wave splashing over him, drenching him completely. As he came back up sputtering, there was more than water coming out of his mouth – vile words, filthy words, cursing words raging at the sea as it raged at him. Peter, the giant, the man with a raging temper, how fitting to have him facing the raging sea. The form drew closer. Even Peter trembled inside – his words belied his fears. Someone suddenly shouted, “It’s Jesus.” What? It couldn’t be. But it was. How could He be walking on water?

Look at Me, Walking on the Water!

Peter called out, “If it’s you, Master, let me come out and walk to you.” “Come on out,” Jesus called back, a glint in his eyes and a smile on His face. Peter, bold façade, stepped out, and then started walking with his eyes fixed firmly on Jesus. What was happening? “Hey, I am really walking on water. This feels kind of like walking on a firm piece of wood. Let me just check back with the brothers.”

He turned and looked back, taking his eyes off Jesus. Something changed. It seemed that the firm board was slipping away and he began going down. It would have been laughable if it wasn’t so scary. Going down, toes slipping under, then ankles and knees and now up to his waist. “I’m drowning,” he screamed. “Jesus, save me, I’m not going to make it, I can’t swim in this kind of storm,” gasping and choking, he screamed.

Then suddenly, Jesus’ strong arms pulled him up, looking into his eyes of terror. He was back on top walking with Jesus, his eyes only on Him. Who was this man? Who was this man that even the winds and the waves obeyed Him?

Peace, Be Still

Jesus smiled again, a smile that went deep into Peter’s heart. He felt warm though he was physically shivering from the cold. “Peace, be still,” Jesus said. And the peace was not meant only for the wind and the waves and the storm, it was for the heart of Peter. Jesus’ eyes gave peace and stilled Peter’s raging heart, stilled Peter’s terrified heart, stilled the soul of a man who had seldom known peace in his life.

If Jesus could bring that kind of peace to Peter, can He give the same kind of peace to you and me? Right now a lot of things are raging around me. I feel like I am in the storm and drowning like Peter and the other disciples. It’s one of those few times in my life when I have felt almost completely helpless, not knowing how to deal with the situation I’m  dealing with.

It’s a good lesson for me because I am often so independent I don’t look to God as quickly as I should – I try to solve my challenges on my own. But right now I have decided, like Peter, to call out, “Lord, save me, I’m drowning.”

Already His words are coming back to me, kindly, gently, lovingly, “Peace, be still. My child, I’m not talking only about the storm. I’m talking about you. You don’t have to carry this one alone. In fact, you don’t have to carry it at all. Give this one to Me and let me do the heavy lifting for you. I’ve promised you that I am with you always and I will give you peace.”

And the challenge for me is let it all go and let Him take over, knowing that if He could lift Peter out of the storm, He can lift me too and give that peace that can only come from Him. And I’m looking forward to those words continuing to remind me as I deal with my current challenge, “Peace, be still.”

Church Art

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. (The Bible, Proverbs 3:5, NIV)

What is God’s spirit telling me today?

Working in the Garden

My child, does the story of the bull take you to another time only a year later? Again, at the sawmill where you spent your summers. You were out in the garden weeding the garden and picking strawberries that day.  You must have been working for at least an hour in that hot sun, only nine years old, and you got tired and wanted to take a break. There’s nothing wrong with that.

You can see how adults condition themselves to take coffee breaks every couple of hours, even in office jobs, so it shouldn’t be a bad thing for a nine-year-old to take a play break after physical labour in the hot sun.

Children Need to be Children

You loved to explore, to run, and to climb. And today you just had to climb a tree. Nothing wrong with that. And you climbed, up from one branch to another, with the agility of a young child, no fear and no adult watching and calling out to be careful.

Oh, sometimes, I want to take those adults and lock them away to give their children a break, to let them explore their world, My world that I have given to them. Children need to experience both their world and their physical abilities – running, climbing, swinging, all the body movements that they are capable of using.

Broken Arm

So, higher and higher you went. I knew about that rotten branch several feet up. I knew what would happen when you stepped on it. And I could have stopped you from going higher. I could have caused someone to come outside and yell at you to get down. But I didn’t. I let you climb, experiencing the freedom of childhood. You missed so much because of fear as a younger child. You needed to learn and grow.

Then you stepped on that rotten branch and it broke, rot unable to withstand the pressure of even a young child’s weight on it. And you fell. In that instant, you cried out to Me to save you and I was proud – my child learning to let go and trust in Me.

You landed hard on that pile of lumber beneath the tree. Aren’t you glad that wasps didn’t build a nest in that pile like they did in so many others that you discovered that summer? And you lay there for a few short seconds recovering your breath – even at that young age, you knew your fall could hurt you badly.

Then looking at your right arm, searing with pain from wrist to shoulder, you saw an ugly sight. Your wrist hanging down in such a strange position that you knew there was something wrong. Up you got and ran to the house, calling out, “Oh me, oh my, I’ve broken my arm.” Indeed you had, dislocating your wrist and breaking your arm in two places.

Aren’t you glad now you were able to get up and run to the house? Aren’t you glad you didn’t just lie there on top of the boards, unconscious with a head injury? Aren’t you glad your body wasn’t twisted and mangled with damage to the spine that meant you would never walk again?

Answered Prayer

It could have been. And your aunt knew that at the time, but said nothing, not to you anyway. But she did talk to Me about it when things settled down and you returned from the hospital with your cast from wrist to shoulder and only a few scratches on your body. She didn’t show much emotion, but that night she wept inwardly as she told Me how thankful she was that I had spared you from greater injury.

And even in spite of her serious ways, she had a hint of humour in her words as she thanked Me for answering your prayer – yes, you had prayed for a broken arm! And you got it. I know, it would have been more fun to get it during the school year when all the students in school could sign your cast and put you on a pedestal for a day or two, since a broken arm was such a way to get attention from the other kids.

And you, you didn’t even thank Me for the broken arm. You berated yourself and told yourself that you must have deserved it – you were supposed to be weeding and picking strawberries and went off to play instead. You looked at your injury as a sign that you were being punished for your sins.

The Trust Lesson

Oh, My child, that’s not what it was about. It was a trust lesson, not punishment. I allowed the natural consequence of an action to unfold – not to punish, just because that is part of life. And now there is a larger lesson for you to learn. A rotten tree limb is disease and disease is sin. There are natural consequences to putting yourself in a place where sin abides.

My children fall, sometimes hard like you did, and sometimes not as hard. But regardless of how you land, I am always there. I do break the fall at times and My children walk away unscathed. Other times, I just let the natural consequence play itself out. I always want to rescue, rescue, rescue. But I know that is the wrong thing to do.

I want you to live life fully, to experience the joy. I know at times there will also be pain, but that provides understanding about life that you would learn no other way. I hope during those challenging times you are as willing to trust Me as you do when your days are full of joy.

For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. (The Bible, NIV: Psalm 91:11)

I and My Father Are One

“My image is love.” The image of my heavenly Father portrayed most clearly by the visual image of a Son who came to earth as an ambassador for the Father. I and my Father are one, says Jesus. What does it really mean to be one? One in the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

I cannot imagine what it was like from time eternal for the Father, Son and Holy Spirit to be one. Show me a better picture of that, Lord, for my own understanding.

I the Father have always been. You cannot even begin to comprehend what that means because you are not God. If I take you back even a few thousand years, you will hardly be able to grasp it, so that is as far as we will go, not back eons of time when we were creating, and creating and creating. One day you will see just the tiniest glimpse of what we created when you are invited home – home to spend forever with Me, when you will experience time travel (or actually no time travel, since time will be meaningless to you as it is already for Me). The only thing that has meaning in terms of time will be the weekly celebration of My Holy Day when all my people will come before Me and My Son Jesus to celebrate the forever rest you will have.

I know you get tired at times. I can see the struggles you’ve been having over the past few months as you have been on your gradual back-to-work program. I see you come home at night and have no energy for anything. All you want to do is lie down and sleep, and you know what happens when you do that – you continue to perpetuate the cycle of a late afternoon nap followed by not being able to sleep at night, followed by a very tiring day at work the next day.

Remember The Bull?

But you won’t need to go through that when you are safe in my kingdom. You will have the energy of your childhood, when you loved to run and play, exploring the mountain trails and paths, running down sawdust piles and playing bakery in the creek bed. You have probably forgotten a lot of the memories of those days, haven’t you? But I have not forgotten.

I watched you and your sister and brothers with such joy as you played in a world where you felt safe. You knew Me with your childlike understanding and trusted Me as a young child does. Remember the day, the Sabbath day, when your aunt and uncle and older cousins were having a nap and you were outside playing.

Remember the little red cowboy jacket with fringes on the arms. Remember the cows and the bull coming down the dirt road. Remember the bull stopping not far away from where your brother had you tied up to the tree. And the bull prepared to charge. What went through your head at the time?

Who Really Saved You from the Bull?

I know, I am Your father – you cried out in silence to Me to save you. Your brothers and sisters were screaming for help and your aunt came out the door of the cabin. She paused for a moment. You didn’t know it then, but I can tell you now because you have grown. She was terrified. She thought the bull was going to gore you to death.

She sent up a quick prayer for help, and then her eyes lighted on a large bone lying only a few steps away. She picked it up and with the aim of a star baseball player, she hurled it at the bull, and hit him on the shoulder. The bull turned away and continued down his path.

So do you think your aunt was that skilled at baseball? How many times did you see her throw a ball or anything else with such accurate aim? She was always proud that she had made the bull turn away, as she related the story over the years.

But she didn’t speak aloud of what she knew in her heart – that I answered her silent prayer. I gave her the strength to hurl that bone – would you believe, I even made a few adjustments in the trajectory so it landed in just the right spot.

But something she didn’t know and none of the rest of you knew all this time – at the same time as she made her mark, your angel was there too and synchronously at the moment that bone hit, moved that bull’s head and body in a new direction.

Really, all of you thought a bone could make enough impact to move several tonnes of solid mass in a specific direction? Think again. I know – you didn’t like physics in school and didn’t do well in it (yes, I saw the exam paper you got back that day with the big 0 percent mark splashed across the first page. Ouch, how did you manage that one with all the intelligence I gave you?) But I think you can figure out that one bone does not have enough mass to turn a very heavy object. So there had to be something else.

Oh, sometimes I wanted so badly to let my angels reveal themselves to you, to let you see that you were safe in my hands. But it would have spoiled all the mystery and fun. After all, how many women can tell a tale of how they turned a huge bull away from killing a child because of their own strength and accurate aim? So Aunt K carried the story in her heart of her prayer, knowing I had answered. For some reason, she didn’t share the revelation I gave her during those few minutes. She needed to think about it before she actually realized that I had answered her prayer.

And I had answered your prayer too, sitting there staring down the face of a massive bull, helpless as your hands were bound by your brother’s rope. I know what went through your heart during that time and after. You were feeling guilty – you thought you deserved to die. You were out playing and it was my Holy Sabbath Day and you were playing “Cowboys and Indians”. You were taught that games like that were not appropriate. You thought you should either be sleeping like the adults or sitting in the house reading the Bible. How old were you then – only eight? A child – my child outdoors enjoying the beautiful things I had created for your pleasure! A few minutes of a childish game, using your imaginations as you played, and now you were condemning yourself, thinking the bull had been sent to punish you.

Live with Joy

Oh, how much you have to learn of Me and of My love for you. You missed so much because you were bound by the rules of the Pharisees. Yes, I know you didn’t live with Pharisees, they lived two thousand years earlier, but you and your family somehow managed to create Pharisees in your lives anyway. And missed so much joy because of it. How sad for you. How sad for Me.

So now do you want to live like a Pharisee or to live with joy? I hope it’s the latter this time.