Redeemed Days

A Worthwhile, if not Imperative Read

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Tue, 26 Nov 2013 00:35:00 +0000

I knew nothing of Gerald Heistand before I followed some links to a free book offer for “Raising Purity,” in exchange for book reviews. For this reader with few resources, a free book was too good to ignore. Besides, the book summary sounded like a worthwhile read. I was somewhere amid courtship and figured I could learn a few things despite it being directed to parents. But my mom began reading it before I found time and I didn’t see much of it for a year or two. Finally after marrying and moving and with much more time on my hands than I have had in a long time, my conscience caught up with me. Gerald is long overdue a review. I collected the book from mom and sat down to read. I thought I was reading to produce a review, not expecting to be so deeply impacted. Now, finally too long after I read the book, I’m ready to try and express the repentance God has worked into my heart through what I have learned.

Through his elevation of the gospel in purity, my acceptance of the importance of purity was raised in my heart from being defensive against sin to being proactive for the gospel. Being pure isn’t just about being acceptable in God’s eyes, it’s about promoting and demonstrating the gospel. Gerald clearly explains how immediately in the first chapter of this book and provided me the key motivation to greater commitment to purity. Prior to reading this book, I understood that marriage represented the relationship between Christ and His church, but I failed to extend the symbolism and its implications into courtship. Now, my greatest regret looking back on my courtship is not so much for specific actions, but that I contradicted Christ’s devotion to the church by communicating my attachment outside of commitment. I misrepresented the gospel and knowing this cuts me to the core.

With the gospel solidly in place as the purpose for God’s chosen guidelines for our sexuality, Gerald advances into a discussion on the categories of relationships as presented in the Bible. He describes the confusing rationale used to determine relational status because our culture has diverged from these categories, attempting to create a new category for dating which the Bible does not acknowledge. I found this discussion interesting and perhaps more philosophical than powerful in my own experience. The categories of relationship alone still leave some room for confusion in courtship standards because they are subjective to societal and family culture. Subjective standards for dating are confusing and difficult to implement because they are formed around our desires, whether pushing back against them or giving in to them.

Yet, as Gerald moves into discussing desire, the path clears. Second to the application of the image of the gospel in purity, the chapter on sexual desire impacted me profoundly. Had I read the book while still dating, I may have found clarity for what I found confusing in the details of physical interaction. My husband and I had high standards during our courtship. As advised, I had made my personal line in the sand but felt my own strengths and weaknesses used to form it were an unreliable guide to deciding my interactions. Through Gerald's thorough dissection of desire I finally identified lust and how it is manifested in a woman. I had always heard lust explained from the perspective of a man's battle and had trouble relating to it. But as he pinpointed lust at the level of desire rather than the mind and emotions, I recognized the struggles I was familiar with long before dating, for what they were, a battle with lust. This was a clarifying and convicting revelation. I now see that it was lust the made keeping my courtship standards difficult. And, beneath the line I had drawn for myself was lust, a desire for our relationship to be and appear affectionate, appropriately so, of course. Had I aimed to portray the gospel, this desire would have been less important and the struggle to maintain standards less burdensome. I particularly appreciate how Gerald highlights the influence of our perception, or in other words, our beliefs on desire. We do not need to be victims of desire, but can be set free by believing the truth about where true satisfaction lies and what is the biggest threat to that satisfaction.

The remainder of the book focuses on parental guidance, which I found much less applicable, not having children of my own. But with the amount of highlighting I continued with throughout the whole book, I know I will be referring back to it for years to come. I have received a priceless gift in “Raising Purity”, and this review is scarcely an adequate appreciation for it, but I trust God to sufficiently reward Gerald.

For You

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Wed, 07 Nov 2012 17:22:00 +0000

A little early Christmas gift just because there's nothing more worthy to share than the Name of Jesus!

Print it, post it, share it, hang it, but most of all love Him.

Inspiration credits to: http://thejonesyfiles.blogspot.ca/2010/12/savior-subway-art.html and http://www.simpleasthatblog.com/2010/12/free-christmas-printables.html

Transforming Scrap

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Wed, 25 Apr 2012 17:32:00 +0000

A scene of scattered pieces, of emotion trembling on the brink of despair, condemnation, or fear, provokes a perspective complicated and incomprehensible. Each time seated in confusion, lying in tears, or pacing in anxiety, as traumatic as before. Thinking I should be accustomed to and undisturbed by the helplessness, only increases difficulty. Though familiar, this scene is unforeseen; shears navigate differently through each swathe of life.

Ragged and misshapen pieces left after investing in others argue an identity of scrap- forgotten, useless; waste. Someone else has glory carved out of my life in encouragement, hope, prayer, giving, exertion, weeping and cheers, and refusing to give up. But suddenly left behind is less of myself for myself, rumpled, frayed, doubting it is more blessed to give than to receive. I feel a loss and wonder who I am and if I matter anymore.

Other times the state of disarray, less noble, is my own fault rather than a love offering. Ignored sin, or simply blindness to it, and presumed infallibility, take much, leaving holes where I just want to feel whole and scraps that spell shame rather than hope.

And then sometimes the pieces lie after Sovereignly guided scissors cut into life further than expected. That offense He allows, that security He asks me to relinquish, the difficult circumstance He lead me into, they leave pieces of me strewn, and I am sure I am and can be nothing more than a mess.

But to have, after everyone else has overlooked or abandoned, after sin has destroyed much, and after the Master has chastened; a Saviour declare: “I will surely assemble all of thee; I will surely gather the remnant[s] of [your life]; I will put them together. . .” (Mic 2:12a) is a wonder that will take eternity to rejoice in.

There is something incredibly special, overwhelmingly splendid to be scrap and discover you can become useful, even beautiful. No edges are too uneven, or misconstrued. The misshapen pieces can be the exact features that will make the end artistic. Though He keeps me waiting, He never forgets me. There is a place to rest in hopeful expectation amid the confusing collection of scraps. It is the place where “we all, with open face [behold] as in a glass the glory of the Lord, [and] are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.” 2Co 3:18

To The One who lets nothing go to waste, scrap is destined to be an ornament of His love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, and faith. What cannot be seen now of what He is intending to make, will be on display one day. Faith will begin to reveal the progress until all is revealed after Life’s final transition into eternity. There are no scraps there. My life, remade and assembled, will become a whole of praise that worships Him who made my transformation possible.

Sigh,
EM

721-747

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Mon, 14 Nov 2011 16:17:00 +0000

Seeing God in the pines, through eyes renewed with His purifying. It is Him I love, adore, praise. This is the goodness He gives:

worship
black bear wandering through the bush other side of french doors
a book to engross me
visit from mom bearing goodies for my kitchen
a friend with mom
beef fills the freezers
apple juice waits to find storage space
new Tupperware slowly being put to use
more french bread from my oven
pine branches in the urn with the birch branches outside the front door
lovely lunch with church friends
running to the library because it was closing in half an hour, then walking home the long way
long walk with mom and our friend
surprise visit from Uncle and Aunt and time spent over some nachos
house tours in the pines
Friends who share visiting family with us over Sunday lunch
image and glory and 1 Corinthians 11
worship and purity
evenings with a husband who can't hunt after work since the time changed
another walk with a neighbor, then introductions to her quilts
more plants from this neighbor
finally meeting another neighbor
pillow cover finished
homemade crackers
herbs relocated indoors and a light rigged for them
lots of quiet and rest
texting once again because the lost cell phone was found
the start of a honeymoon photobook

One man loved the pilgrim soul in you. . .

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 17:50:00 +0000

"One man loved the pilgrim soul in you, and loved the sorrows of your changing face." -Yeats

Revived Song

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Wed, 26 Oct 2011 19:38:00 +0000

Through french doors of the great room, assisted by a few strong men, she comes in spring. I hover near, dust cloth in hand. Does she welcome this rescue from the tiny room where she was trapped, collecting dust, quilt patches, and stowed away canine treasures? Regardless, I intend to discover her potential. Closer inspection behind a removed front panel convinces me this is a vacuum job, a haven for dirt. Had it become the same for her? When neglected, did she take comfort in the bitter filth; disillusion herself with pride in the appearance of purpose, unused books on her rack? Did she despair in the bondage of a storage surface? Or did she hope, expect a revival?

Head in the dark depths I see the repairs. She was broken once. I wonder about her history, search for a name, then recruit a second set of eyes. We search her inside out. She’s lost her name in a refinishing. The only label she bears is for a used music shop, a barn no less, where she was restored and sold to the lovely vivacious woman who gave her to me. Hope for new life, given in a barn, on its second chance in spring. She belongs here with me, in my home where her previous name is irrelevant to her acceptance.

Receiving a piano at no charge other than the effort of removal allows no selection. However, she is more valuable to me than any prestigious pedigree, or elaborate style. Nostalgia for companionship of a musical instrument marks six months every time I inhabit a new home. And I am feeling the absence long enough. Seeing her here feels like a dream. Amazingly, she is the image of my imaginations.

A simple structure of straight lines and walnut hue, no elaborate moldings or deep cherry stain, she is the exact size, shape, colour, and price I desired for my home. I conclude I am the purpose for which she was originally designed. How many years has it taken her to arrive here? I think she is old. Is she grateful to be here? Our match is redemptive; a revival for us both. Though I rarely made use of previous cohabitation with a piano, I have the undeserved gift of her offering to join me to make music. And she, once restored, now has another occasion to sing. Is she as eager as I to do what she has always been intended? Is she fearful? Change is risky, sure to expose.

I reveal her keys, test her. Her response to my touch is clear sound complete to reverberations and jolting twangs, definitely, desperately out of tune. I recoil, should have expected as much. Her owner confessed she was too busy to play and her children never desired interaction. Ring of song goes sour when dust collects, unattended. I vow not to acclimatize to her discordance. But I soften with the pleasure of immersing myself in song. And she mellows with use.

I play more freely than I ever have, with an abandon I dreamed of when young, enrolled in piano lessons, and not motivated enough to practice, wasting away my potential, and parent’s financial contribution. We are not glorious. I stumble, loose my way, confuse the tempo, push down too hard upon her keys, overuse the pedal, vary my style very little, a decidedly underdeveloped pianist. My ability to play is as flawed as her tune, but we do not condemn each other. We know renewal will take time after wandering years. Together we rejoice, dare to sing imperfect praises for salvation. With abandon we do what we have not done for so very long, she make sound, I play regularly, affirming her presence and the decision to adopt her.

I will never excel at her keys, but I anticipate more from her. Though the name of her brand is still a mystery, she apparently resembles a Bell. If she is one, she will sound like the ring of hand bells. Or is it church bells? I can't remember. Sometimes she hints a ring beneath my touch. But it is lost in the receding twang of numerous dissenting strings. A retired piano teaching neighbor advised not tuning her until after the autumn house heat is started to extend the retention of her sound. Until then I use her to camouflage my unrefined mastery. But some day her response will be my revealing. Her sound will be the witness of my interaction, whether my fingers on her keys or my finances buying tunings.

For now we dream, anticipating the next steps of this revival from a broken new life to renewed living, offering the music of heaven to the maestro of souls, together testifying of a permanent tuning to come, that never deteriorates in air of our Designer’s presence. One look at Him will produce the gospel song of His glorious goodness. Sigh.

Hinting at precious things, ages away...

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 18:59:00 +0000

We dined on the edge of that world, ages away, what feels like ages ago.

Everything was precious from love struck eyes to waves lapping at toes.

We there. He never overseas before, me where I had never been interested to go.

Sharing new days, under the same sun by water that comes and goes.

Who knows but this water it may follow me home,

on the ocean currents and through a channel

to the great lakes of cottage country,

hinting at those precious things, ages away.

Enticing me to find them again today,

where they need not be ages away

but in my heart always to stay.

# 710-720

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 16:38:00 +0000

Pie that didn't run all over the pan
Plants gifted by a neighbour from her garden
Fireplace heating the house again
Crisp autumn tempuratures
This book
An evening of joy, music, & praise with these faithful
Fruit frozen for future enjoyment
Opportunities to minister
Digging in dirt
My love's watering eyes when I speak gratitude for Him
Camping laundry almost finished

#677 - 709

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Tue, 06 Sep 2011 19:59:00 +0000

Somewhere between adolescence and whatever I am now, I lost pleasure in grit, grim, and tomgirl efforts. Long ago despite the destined agony, I vaguely recall feeling a self satisfaction while trudging to the dump trailer for another round of picking stones, to eat dust and grind fingers, or to the wagon of straw bales wating to soak up my sweat and imbed their fibres into my arms and legs. Though the work was hard, farm life was freeing. It released me from the pressures of neatness to the freedom of sweat, dirt, and wild hair.

Appropriately, I celebrated Labour Day weekend, and my first anniversary amid the grit, grim, and tomgirl efforts of camping, rediscovering the heart of labour - survival and the heart of love - for better and worst. And unanticipated, was the discovery that the surest way to increase my gratitude for what I have, is to live 4 days with less than I possess now. Suddenly what often feels incomplete in my home, is luxury invaluable.

an island after nine miles of water
one mostly flat spot just large enough for our tent
surviving without the forgotten pillows, cookies, muffins, and camera memory card
smoke, soot, and ashes
a leaky boat just large enough for our gear
borrowed utensils, tent, tarps, and other neccessities
squat spots
clear, fresh northern air
buried pancakes
instant pudding experiments
delicious open fire meals
diving off the rocks into cool, clean water
fishing, reading, crossword, word searches
laughing like i haven't for a long time
clearing trails, pulling out brush, knocking down dead trees, creating a campsite
one tea kettle lid lost in the deep depths of the lake
washing dishes at the water's edge
fresh caught fried fish
light sleeping
loon calls, fish jumps, beaver homes, distant coyote howls
my love calling back to the coyotes
swimmer's ear
a meanering slow ride back to the launch
black bear lunching up on the rocks
the desperate, painful need for the toilet
unpacking
a hot soak in the bathtub
sitting at the table for supper
clean toes once again
sun and wind blazened face, heating up
early early retiring to an amazing bed
one deep long satisfying sleep

#652-676

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Mon, 29 Aug 2011 20:18:00 +0000

Sure there is more than the here and now
Soft hum of bumble bee wings
compass embedded in cap of insect repellent can
wild blackberries
stinging scratches from hiking through brambles
grass taller than I
Introductions to cottage country native plants
meeting neighors
Homemade dayplanner
My love thrilling over his homemade hamburger patties
A niece, a nephew, precious new lives
pickled beet jars popping as they seal
home sewn baby booties
shopping in the city with my love
barely tolerated car rides to see family
pitas, and all things healthy
steaming peach jars
blanching beans
fresh produce at the roadside
hints of autumn
setting up the tree stand for my love
card sales
a world groaning, aching for redemption
curb appeal ideas for the house
One year, already! - it's been wonderful

#627-651

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Mon, 25 Jul 2011 19:24:00 +0000

My love opening the car door for me
Budding periennials
An evening swim across the way
Up close to a deer on foot
Holy Spirit strength for redeemed living
Many tents and family fun, food, & campfires
Exploring cottage country on evening drives
Morning exercising along with praises
Praise and worship with my out of tune piano
VBS stretching me, exhausting me, opening me to grace
A God who gives and gives and gives
Thunder echoing off rocks and waking my sleep
A night of sleep in the screened gazebo
Daylilies surprising me with my favourite bloom colour
A computer finally freed for my use at the library
VBS program inspirations
Frugal home decor projects
Repurposed cracker boxes, tin cans, and glass jars
Food gifts to ease a VBS teacher's domestic demands
Card orders
A new family doctor assigned
Parking meters with many minutes waiting for me
Rain for dried out and some burning forests
Unsuccessful layer cake remade into trifle

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 22:58:00 +0000

"By acknowledging and owning the limits of our own subjectivity, our soul remains open and limber, available for growth, development and discovery. But when objectivity is taken to the extreme, it erodes both our humanity and our humility."

Shane Hipps, Flickering Pixels

Fuel for the Journey

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 15:00:00 +0000

The interest of 12 year old boys would be piqued by cars. And my distant memory of cars associated with freedom could introduce the underlying message of Galatians 5.

But then I lost my resolve and stuck with the printed text.

In the end, the questions provided fueled our discussion and proved difficult enough without my philosophizing. And I was spared the self doubt sure to haunt me had I voiced my interpretation on broader themes. Now several Sundays past that lesson and 2 sermons wiser on the subject, I dare to post the analogy that began to surface in my thoughts as I made myself presentable to enter a classroom of adolescent boys. Though considered material for a junior Sunday school lesson, I intend no insult to anyone’s intelligence with this parallel. Besides, only those some older than 12, can understand that thrill of the first solo drive after achieving a driver’s license. I remember driving to some event alone the evening after passing my examination. The world was opening to me and suddenly all I saw was endless opportunity.

I had a life to live and by all appearances a driver’s license freed me to live it.

At seventeen I was a product of the age of motion and a family of believers. As a child I rode with my parents many places, but most often to church, in various evolving vehicle models experiencing the phenomenon of combustion engine transportation. I learned God’s Word along with the meaning for the symbols of driving. I saw how dad utilized the vehicle’s mechanisms, of which I understood little more than the need for gasoline. And I learned to recognize poor driving etiquette which he pointed out to us with true transport truck driver expertise.

Mine was a Christian worldview that extended from the church doors, onto the road, into the front door at home.

However, I was no Christian on account of my parent’s examples, my Christian worldview, or my morality.

And though my early exposure to driving coupled with weeks of class instruction, handbook review, and months of accompanied driving, deemed me properly equipped, free to drive, with many places to go, I had no car.

Apparently a driver’s license offered a freedom I couldn’t access on the budget of a seventeen year old. I could only step out of the family vehicle and live God’s plans for me with a vehicle I couldn’t afford.

And this was the thrill that evening this Child of God drove herself to an event: my Father provided me a car!

Jesus passed the driver’s test to God for me. In exchange for His life, God gave me the vehicle of His purposes and plans for me, along with the key of His acceptance, my access to freedom.

But freedom is only accessed, not maintained, by the existence of God’s gift of salvation and acceptance. It continues only with proper and adequate fuel powering my life. One tank of gasoline after my first solo drive and I understood my freedom was tied to the car’s power. Thankfully, the resident fuel tanks were a necessity in the farmyard, and the gasoline was free unless the car use provided me transportation to a job.

Keeping a vehicle fueled does not get more convenient than the farmyard or cheaper than simply reimbursing dad at cost, unless I am navigating life in God’s plans for me, on the fuel of His Spirit.

Then fuel is available everywhere at no cost. Yet I habitually control the gas pedal with little respect or thought for the fuel I’m using. I value the places to go, things to do, and the thrill of the ride more than the fuel.

Were I to value the fuel that powers my journey, I would regularly pause to add fuel to my tank before the need to worry presented itself in indications from the fuel gauge that my journey is in danger of a sputtering stop beside the road. And I would use the gas pedal with consideration for the distance I need to cover until I can add to my fuel tank.

Freedom is directly proportionate to the steady flow of God’s Spirit in my life.

Without it the abundant life promised is continually interrupted by my panic to once again reach a fuel stop or as I discovered as a passenger riding a country road, by an empty fuel tank. Gloriously, dad was only a cell phone call away and willing to come to our aid with a jerry can. The generosities of my Fathers coincide. And I tell myself that I am not careless with their generosity, despite a driving history testifying otherwise.

My frequent heavy accelerations and detours consume fuel for no advantage to the ultimate goal as I try to push God’s plans for me ahead of His schedule and around my carnality. This is the same carelessness that eventually risks an ill timed empty gas tank.

To my shame, my tendency continues to be driving with a perpetually low tank of gasoline.

I do have enough appreciation for the fuel powering a vehicle that I’ve never been found pushing my car down the road with a tank full of gasoline. This is counter productive to the entire purpose of possessing a vehicle.

Freedom in driving and living is only experienced when utilizing the power of fuel and the Holy Spirit.

However, God knows I’ve tried to live His plans for me this way, choosing to depend on my own resources rather than God’s Spirit fuel to power my obedience to Him. Moving forward with God’s plans for me depending on my human power is an exhausting, discouraging situation. It is not freedom. It is not liberty in Christ.

It is self-righteousness.

I wish I could say, “And the girl and the car lived happily ever after.”

But the car my dad provided was re-purposed after I couldn’t stop when necessary on an icy road. The insurance company labeled the car “totaled” and abandoned it to the scrap yard.

But with God investing in my life and faith, I’ve been protected through driving mishaps and spiritual wrecks. Thankfully He’s never abandoned the vehicle of His plans for me, though some adjustments may have been necessary.

Freedom is a delicate state to live in.

I’m learning that the laws and guiding structure of roads and signs and Scripture and Spiritual authorities are not restrictions but aids to providing me a safe, successful, even enjoyable journey. When I accept them, I navigate with a wisdom that values the power fueling my journey, and follows the guiding structure with consideration for the conditions of my environment. They are beneficial to the goal of reaching my destination where my arrival is expected.

By God’s grace and the power of His Spirit I will arrive alive in Glory to receive ultimate freedom:
life within the fuel chamber of God’s presence.

I’ll take to the skies and sore in the splendor of His power and wonder! I will be free, eternally.

Sigh.

visit http://ambocullum.blogspot.com/ to participate.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Scripture describes The Eternal One and His work. Nature echos His words that called it to existence. Humanity exhales His breath that awakened its soul.

These, the sighs of eternity, remnants of glory, hints of truth, Invite us to recognize, receive, and reciprocate Redemption through the Resurrected Word of Life.

Are you compelled to whisper life to someone today? I'd be honoured to join you with an eternal sigh greeting card now available to you here.

#606-626

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Mon, 04 Jul 2011 17:14:00 +0000

Fireflies
Shooting stars
Cottage vacation
Waves
Tubing
Plant sales
New homes now occupied by my family
Sunday lounging in the hammock
A piano cast-off into our home
Fresh herbs outside the back door
Vegetables growing in strawbales
A husband who can figure out how to fix most things
Card brochures finally delivered!
Beautiful weather for a weekend with visiting friends
Boat rides on sparkling lakes
Turtles crossing the roads
Galaxies dusting the skies
Locating constellations
Renewed motivation to keep house
Interesting books always awaiting me on the bookshelf

#586-605

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Tue, 10 May 2011 15:52:00 +0000

Dirty hands from transplanting in the yard

Dogsitting that little pug again

2 sisters, 2 nephews in my house for 2 days!

Enjoying tasty success

Eating in the gazebo

Relaxing with my love after sharing our house with family, then friends

Hanging out the first laundry ever on the new clothes line :)

Swarming black flies that ARE NOT BITING YET

A sleepy boy mistaking my leg as his mom's to rest against after church

A remote walk in a bush, (trying not to think about bears)

Returning to the hospital of my childhood to encourage friends

The expertise of large city physicians and facilities

A ceramic coated, much better than teflon, frying pan

Altering a shelving unit by myself with a little blade to make it fit in a new space

Solar lights we mounted on trees lining our driveway now marking the drive on returns home at night

Revelations, those moments I realize that what I know really is applicable to my current situation

Making a friend so happy by problem solving her computer problems

The reuniting hug when my love returns from work everyday

Me, reading and enjoying a historical book?!

A simpler, more attractive mantle display

#566-585

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Tue, 03 May 2011 15:11:00 +0000

My estimated date for the disappearance of snow from our yard proved pessimistic on its disappearance Apr 29

Roasting weiners over our first campfire

Following election drama with my love

The lawn mostly raked

Visitors for Easter weekend

Discovering the satisfaction of a low sodium and low fat diet as adhered to by dad

Eating bbq'd steak outside

Dog sitting a little pug pup

The mercy of each day before the appearance of the much warned of black flies

Birds in our yard

Young minds exerted for a science fair

Judging science fair projects

Receiving my first order of greeting cards

Reliving the 2010 olympics

A bouquet of flowers from my love for no specific occasion

A wedding dress suitable to be worn again to church Easter Sunday morning

A new leaf appearing in my orchid plant

Realizing painting the exterior doors black would make our house look much classier

Delicious food on a night out for supper

Georgian Bay on a beautiful day

Somewhere between weekend visitors, yardwork, Easter and steadying myself when the familiar securities are gone and change continues, I've lost the motivation to blog. Struggled to be comfortable with my "voice." But now that I'm here again, it's comforting. This space now one of the few familiars of my life. And yes, there is much good to celebrate. This earth isn't intended to be my security or the home that brings me most comfort. Wars, natural disasters, dramatic politics are all ready reminders. A faithful brother, caring for grandsons whose sister and parents wait anxiously for healing hours away in hospital, halting reminds us to hold loosely those and what we have. And directs us with Luke 21:28. "And when these things begin to come to pass, then look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh." His is a life of personal uncertainty too. I'm not alone. I share unsteady footing with a world seeking security and comfort. And I look up for my redemption is drawing nigh!

#552 - 565

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Mon, 18 Apr 2011 22:43:00 +0000

The gift of peace when I relinquish self-preservation and fast

Finding a missing pair of shoes

An exemplary woman radiating joy as she speaks about prayer

Grass visible in the front yard

Dreaming up plans for the yard

Beginnings of a campfire pit

Planning a flowerbed

An opportunity to share the love of photo editing

A pile of logs dominating our driveway

Being designated a prayer partner with someone I was already pursuing a relationship with

Uncovering matted grass with our rakes

Introducing friends to my favorite brand of Green Iced Tea

My love's delight for the fresh rye bread I baked

Reacquainting myself with the game phase 10

Gifts 536 - 551

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Tue, 12 Apr 2011 15:49:00 +0000

Me in the glider chair, she in her car hrs away, us taking the opportunity to update each other on our lives

Answered prayer to find filed "roll up the rim" wins

An evening out for free donuts and some coffee with my My Love

Opting for 3 layers rather than the winter parka

Being called "mom" by a little friend forgetting herself while I babysat

The efforts of a little mr to speak

The haze of evaporating snow and ice

Robins! finally seen by me here in cottage country :)

A counter-top filing system made of cracker boxes

A lump in my throat, a tear in my eye, and an ache in my heart watching and listening to these... joining my soul in their praise

Exciting details falling into place for my parents and siblings

The irony that by the time I'm married and living in cottage country for 9 months, I'll be the most settled of my family

Stories of dad and his siblings' and spouses' trip with grandma to celebrate her 80th birthday

A bird's visit to the light outside my window

My greeting card store beginnings

Resume composition for a friend

Late, aching, and blessed

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Tue, 05 Apr 2011 13:57:00 +0000

Lord I come a little late and with an aching heart, but your goodness blesses me still in:

My love pulling me close when I cry
The smell of pine trees
Sounds of bird songs accompanying a walk to the library
A muddy driveway, evidence of our melting "ice age"
Sharing our home and food with guests
Early morning exercising with a friend
Sentimental wedding photos
My love happy about reducing our energy consumption and the electric bill
Tea, toast, and yogurt for breakfast
A dreary day of rain rather than snow

516 - 535

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Mon, 28 Mar 2011 15:59:00 +0000

Trees colour burned red in early morning sunlight
In-laws overnight
My first contributions to a potluck
3 miles before 8:30am
Income tax returns
Probiotics
Finishing Sunday praising unaccompanied with God's people, wonderful start to a week
Make our own bingo scoring scheme
Contemplating joy with "Jesus man of Joy"
The contrasting combination of bright invigorating sun and snow and cold crisp air
A future for my parents and siblings fulfilling dreams and presenting opportunities
Rising moments of hope interrupting ready negativity
Mystery to be welcomed, not despised, a grace for finite me
Past triumphant experiences with love
Past stumbling over dropping of joy, now recognized and instructing
Past exercises of faith
These three abiding, weaving, capturing my heart: faith, joy, love
These moments for making acquaintances, for caring, for sharing life
Time coming to its end, bringing Christ's return -- soon, ah
My love singing from the sanctuary podium, smiling joy on our praises

TRUE

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Tue, 22 Mar 2011 18:59:00 +0000

This is true.

Steady, yet fleeting,

and from an ever changing position,

reflecting the constant unchanging light.

This is how to be true.

Spring comes with snow still on the ground, blessings come despite circumstances

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Mon, 21 Mar 2011 15:26:00 +0000

496 - 515

- Sitting in the driveway in a camping chair wearing a light jacket
- Another little baby girl!
- My love's employer, ordinary and social with us
- Sisters, free to be less than formal
- Sisters, who don't like shopping, shopping together
- Sisters, because they can't be rep
- Another puzzle
- A breakfast bar in the making
- Club girls' visiting
- Fast, helpful home health product service

476 - 495

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Mon, 14 Mar 2011 14:58:00 +0000

- No injury or damage from a miscalculation while felling a tree

- Light infusing my house

- Learning the art of making phone calls

- The tantalizing possibility of soon completing overdue bill payments

- Dreaming up ways to celebrate when the bills are paid

- Receiving an anticipated government grant cheque

- Safely reaching the top of a slushy hill

- Sleep smiles of a newborn

- I am distinguished!

- Waking to a back rub

- Blue eyes and braided blond hair making a little girl a little lady

- Crisp, sunny walk to the library

- A little girl's voice calling to her guardian, "COME AND GET ME" from beyond the books of the library

- 6 adults, 500 puzzle pieces, and 2 hours

- Weekend visit from My love's brother & wife

- A progressive party all weekend

- A decreasing list of places to change my name

- Meandering through the woods on snowshoes

- Regular walking 50min to the "neighbor's"

- Learning extensively from this book: The Church and the Surprising Offense of God's Love

Winter continues

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Mon, 07 Mar 2011 16:01:00 +0000

And so do the blessings:
#456 - 475

God's Spirit reproducing Christ in me
Fitting my first rolled pie crust into a pan
Our happy marriage
Narnia scenes outside my windows
Evidence of waking wildlife around the yard
My Love emphatice that he loves me more than on our wedding day
Sharing brunch at our table with neighbors
Accidentally coining a new expression
Learning how to play another game with skipo cards
Squatting to receive a ready hug from a little friend
The bashfulness of a little one receiving my compliment
A spontaneous Sunday evening after church visit to friends many years my senior
Homemade butterhorns
Finishing another novel
Spotting brother in law on the other side of the highway while returning home
Friends eager to interact
The growing possibility of a little venture
Meals I don't have to make
My Love working on plans to heat our own water
Another week to receive blessings

When I was Ten. . .

noreply@blogger.com (EM) — Mon, 28 Feb 2011 17:48:00 +0000

. . . my life was only beginning to take shape