Saturday January 24, 2009
Make the most of every opportunity. Colossians 4:5.
Time zones sometimes change the day that I’m writing. It is about 5.30 am Sunday in England as I write, but this blog will show up as yesterday, probably because the source for the blog is in Western Canada. So today I can do what I wanted to do yesterday, because it is still yesterday. Or put another way, what you read here is what I am going to write tomorrow—a bit like reading tomorrow’s newspaper. It reminds me of the times we flew to New Zealand. By crossing the International Date Line, we lose a day—fly out Monday overnight and arrive Wednesday. Of course flying back, we gain the day back, fly out Monday and arrive Monday—often earlier than we left.
If that has your head spinning, it makes my stomach churn, because the time difference that creates jet lag leaves my stomach back home. As our girls fly in this Tuesday, Alex and her two year old Luciano will have a five hour difference from Eastern Canada. Karen has a seven hour difference from Western Canada, and Heather, poor girl, is facing twelve hours from New Zealand. New Zealand is dead opposite England on the globe, so whichever way you travel between the two the distance is the same.
Why make all that effort? The great effort the girls and some grandchildren are making to be with us in England and the time we give here is because we want to “make the most of every opportunity.” It is a great time to be together in the land of our birth and may be the last opportunity. Using every opportunity, despite the effort involved, not only creates great memories, but ensures we leave behind a meaningful legacy for others.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Thursday January 22, 2009
Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. Hebrews 10:23.
I woke this morning and 2.00 am. And couldn’t sleep after that. Slowly developed a headache around the eyes and on rising took some Tylenol. I guess mind was working though all the events planned for the next two weeks or so—both our girls’ visit and the guest house—starting this evening as new guests arrive. In the meantime, today we are taking an elderly lady to the hospital for day surgery in Shoreham, about twenty minutes drive, and going on to Brighton to spend some time with my sister.
We fear all sorts of things, and in our case, a concern that the great occasion planned with our family together here in England might go wrong somewhere. And then there are the back burner ideas about impending surgery for me, but also health and strength for us both generally. I have a fear of either of us falling—you may recall we both fell down the stairs the last time we were in England. I have become paranoid about things we might trip over, and my driving, particularly on the other side of the road, has become more cautious.
All this occasionally comes together to raise mostly unjustified fears for the future—the immediate and the long term. In his swearing in earlier this week, Barack Obama called on his countrymen to replace fear with hope. Hope is an important part of life, and the hopes we have as Christians cannot easily be buried by our daily fears. Our text today reminds us that it is the faithfulness of God which assures us hope for the future—whatever it may bring.
Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. Hebrews 10:23.
I woke this morning and 2.00 am. And couldn’t sleep after that. Slowly developed a headache around the eyes and on rising took some Tylenol. I guess mind was working though all the events planned for the next two weeks or so—both our girls’ visit and the guest house—starting this evening as new guests arrive. In the meantime, today we are taking an elderly lady to the hospital for day surgery in Shoreham, about twenty minutes drive, and going on to Brighton to spend some time with my sister.
We fear all sorts of things, and in our case, a concern that the great occasion planned with our family together here in England might go wrong somewhere. And then there are the back burner ideas about impending surgery for me, but also health and strength for us both generally. I have a fear of either of us falling—you may recall we both fell down the stairs the last time we were in England. I have become paranoid about things we might trip over, and my driving, particularly on the other side of the road, has become more cautious.
All this occasionally comes together to raise mostly unjustified fears for the future—the immediate and the long term. In his swearing in earlier this week, Barack Obama called on his countrymen to replace fear with hope. Hope is an important part of life, and the hopes we have as Christians cannot easily be buried by our daily fears. Our text today reminds us that it is the faithfulness of God which assures us hope for the future—whatever it may bring.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Wednesday January 21, 2009
These [trials] have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine. 1 Peter 1:7.
Ah! Trials and tribulations, the lot of every one of us. They are a blight on our existence, and if God sent them, then he must enjoy watching his creation squirm. Don’t tell me about a God of love while I and others have to put up with the misery that this world offers. Here’s the defining argument: If God is love, he can’t be all powerful or he wouldn’t allow this suffering; if he is all powerful, he must be evil to allow it. No way out of this one!
For much of his life, C. S. Lewis held this view. But then he started to wonder: if this appears so obvious, why do so many people believe the opposite? It was this paradox that played a part in his becoming a Christian, finding what countless people like Ann and myself have found, that keeping faith in God through the difficult times increases their faith. If our faith is strong now, it is because we have had a lifetime to confirm the truth of today’s text. God is faithful to those who trust him.
These [trials] have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine. 1 Peter 1:7.
Ah! Trials and tribulations, the lot of every one of us. They are a blight on our existence, and if God sent them, then he must enjoy watching his creation squirm. Don’t tell me about a God of love while I and others have to put up with the misery that this world offers. Here’s the defining argument: If God is love, he can’t be all powerful or he wouldn’t allow this suffering; if he is all powerful, he must be evil to allow it. No way out of this one!
For much of his life, C. S. Lewis held this view. But then he started to wonder: if this appears so obvious, why do so many people believe the opposite? It was this paradox that played a part in his becoming a Christian, finding what countless people like Ann and myself have found, that keeping faith in God through the difficult times increases their faith. If our faith is strong now, it is because we have had a lifetime to confirm the truth of today’s text. God is faithful to those who trust him.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Tuesday January 20, 2009
When I said, "My foot is slipping," your love, O LORD, supported me. Psalm 94:18.
Our time here in England is growing to a climax. While this week is relatively easy, next week when the girls come and join us is also a busy week at the guest house—never rains but it pours! This week seems like the calm before the storm. We are taking this opportunity for Ann to get the spade work done on the four papers she needs to have done by the end of February. It is also the time to iron out a lot of details for the coming week, but most seem to be in place.
A particular help is the gracious use of the Mission’s nine seat van for some trips we will make, in addition to the willingness of my sister and her niece to drive us around in their cars. It is clear that without the help of those around us our plans would not work, or be prohibitively expensive. Even with these advantages, there were times when I wasn’t sure we could dovetail all the logistics necessary to accomplish the things we needed to do and visit the places we wanted to go—and still enjoy ourselves!
God has a variety of ways to help us avoid slipping, and the support of those around has proved to be God’s provision for us. As a result, I think this nostalgic time to the old haunts of our childhood and early married days will be a time to remember with great thankfulness.
When I said, "My foot is slipping," your love, O LORD, supported me. Psalm 94:18.
Our time here in England is growing to a climax. While this week is relatively easy, next week when the girls come and join us is also a busy week at the guest house—never rains but it pours! This week seems like the calm before the storm. We are taking this opportunity for Ann to get the spade work done on the four papers she needs to have done by the end of February. It is also the time to iron out a lot of details for the coming week, but most seem to be in place.
A particular help is the gracious use of the Mission’s nine seat van for some trips we will make, in addition to the willingness of my sister and her niece to drive us around in their cars. It is clear that without the help of those around us our plans would not work, or be prohibitively expensive. Even with these advantages, there were times when I wasn’t sure we could dovetail all the logistics necessary to accomplish the things we needed to do and visit the places we wanted to go—and still enjoy ourselves!
God has a variety of ways to help us avoid slipping, and the support of those around has proved to be God’s provision for us. As a result, I think this nostalgic time to the old haunts of our childhood and early married days will be a time to remember with great thankfulness.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Sunday January 18, 2009
I lie awake; I have become like a bird alone on a roof. Ps 102:7.
The prospect of time with some of our family on a nostalgic trip back to our roots focuses my thoughts on the days before Ann and I were married. I remember the first time I saw Ann, her smile captivated me and I fell in love at once. We were still school children, 13 and 14 years of age. From then on life took its hue from her presence or absence, and the periods of separation were an empty aching void. We saw each other on Sunday during and after church services, but not again until youth night on Wednesday. Monday blues were black, with a rock in my stomach until nearly midday. The time to Wednesday was interminable.
I think that was the time I experienced loneliness, no-one else could adequately take her place, despite family and friends all around me. The Bible says that “God sets the lonely in families” (Ps 68:6): they are meant to be a hedge against loneliness. From those with no family, I hear the deep pain at Christmas time: “I wish I could go to sleep on December 15 and not wake until the New Year.” I tend to be a loner, and would fall into the same trap if it were not for Ann, the one God provided to fill that void. Not only that, but marriage provides others, an immediate family of children, grandchildren—and more—that continue that tradition. I have never had time to feel that loneliness again—and knowing Ann, that isn’t surprising!
The tragedy is that the very institution that God provided against loneliness is too often the source of conflict and estrangement that reinforces it. Watch the characters on TV shows; perhaps 90% are scripted into the pain of broken relationships and a bottomless search for companionship in all the wrong places. David knew all about that. His adultery with Bathsheba precipitated a dysfunctional family of angry and violent members. When his rule was going badly as well, he felt that loneliness “like a bird alone on the roof.” When will we learn that happiness in marriage is primarily derived from service, not satisfaction? Christ set the example, he “did not come to be served, but to serve,” and in that process “to give his life . . .” (Matt 20:28).
I lie awake; I have become like a bird alone on a roof. Ps 102:7.
The prospect of time with some of our family on a nostalgic trip back to our roots focuses my thoughts on the days before Ann and I were married. I remember the first time I saw Ann, her smile captivated me and I fell in love at once. We were still school children, 13 and 14 years of age. From then on life took its hue from her presence or absence, and the periods of separation were an empty aching void. We saw each other on Sunday during and after church services, but not again until youth night on Wednesday. Monday blues were black, with a rock in my stomach until nearly midday. The time to Wednesday was interminable.
I think that was the time I experienced loneliness, no-one else could adequately take her place, despite family and friends all around me. The Bible says that “God sets the lonely in families” (Ps 68:6): they are meant to be a hedge against loneliness. From those with no family, I hear the deep pain at Christmas time: “I wish I could go to sleep on December 15 and not wake until the New Year.” I tend to be a loner, and would fall into the same trap if it were not for Ann, the one God provided to fill that void. Not only that, but marriage provides others, an immediate family of children, grandchildren—and more—that continue that tradition. I have never had time to feel that loneliness again—and knowing Ann, that isn’t surprising!
The tragedy is that the very institution that God provided against loneliness is too often the source of conflict and estrangement that reinforces it. Watch the characters on TV shows; perhaps 90% are scripted into the pain of broken relationships and a bottomless search for companionship in all the wrong places. David knew all about that. His adultery with Bathsheba precipitated a dysfunctional family of angry and violent members. When his rule was going badly as well, he felt that loneliness “like a bird alone on the roof.” When will we learn that happiness in marriage is primarily derived from service, not satisfaction? Christ set the example, he “did not come to be served, but to serve,” and in that process “to give his life . . .” (Matt 20:28).
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Saturday January 17, 2009
When Paul had finished speaking, he knelt down with all of them and prayed. Acts 20:36.
Today I have been putting together a schedule for our three daughters, our granddaughter and husband and our two year old grandson when they join us for a week together here in England. A friend has kindly offered to host them in her old smithy cottage (five bedrooms—some cottage!). Lot of people to ferry around, meals to think of, not much time and lots of places and people to see. So arranging transportation and fitting in with schedules here at the guest house in Worthing is more challenging than a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle.
But the greater the challenge, the greater the reward when it is overcome. Certainly, we are overjoyed that our family from various parts of the world is able to join us, and the challenge in arrangements is matched by the efforts they have made to be with us. In fact, the success of this venture depends, like players in an orchestra, on close cooperation from all of us. Knowing our family, I am sure this time will be one to remember.
Of interest to the family particularly, are the old haunts that Ann and I frequented in our youth and early married days before we emigrated to Canada in 1965. Although the church we were married in has been torn down and rebuilt, almost all the places from our childhood and later years remain unchanged. Our eldest daughters may remember some of them from their childhood.
I wonder what differences our children and grandchildren will see in us once they have seen our roots? They may also feel their own identity shift a little from this experience. Above all, we trust that their roots in the Christian faith may become sharper as we see some spiritual reminders from our past. Paul prayed with the Ephesians on his last visit with them and his prayers touched their hearts. One day we will find out how our prayers, the prayers of our parents and relatives gone before, and the prayers of our children and grandchildren, have played in shaping the life we bequeath to them.
When Paul had finished speaking, he knelt down with all of them and prayed. Acts 20:36.
Today I have been putting together a schedule for our three daughters, our granddaughter and husband and our two year old grandson when they join us for a week together here in England. A friend has kindly offered to host them in her old smithy cottage (five bedrooms—some cottage!). Lot of people to ferry around, meals to think of, not much time and lots of places and people to see. So arranging transportation and fitting in with schedules here at the guest house in Worthing is more challenging than a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle.
But the greater the challenge, the greater the reward when it is overcome. Certainly, we are overjoyed that our family from various parts of the world is able to join us, and the challenge in arrangements is matched by the efforts they have made to be with us. In fact, the success of this venture depends, like players in an orchestra, on close cooperation from all of us. Knowing our family, I am sure this time will be one to remember.
Of interest to the family particularly, are the old haunts that Ann and I frequented in our youth and early married days before we emigrated to Canada in 1965. Although the church we were married in has been torn down and rebuilt, almost all the places from our childhood and later years remain unchanged. Our eldest daughters may remember some of them from their childhood.
I wonder what differences our children and grandchildren will see in us once they have seen our roots? They may also feel their own identity shift a little from this experience. Above all, we trust that their roots in the Christian faith may become sharper as we see some spiritual reminders from our past. Paul prayed with the Ephesians on his last visit with them and his prayers touched their hearts. One day we will find out how our prayers, the prayers of our parents and relatives gone before, and the prayers of our children and grandchildren, have played in shaping the life we bequeath to them.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Friday January 16, 2009
Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms. 1 Peter 4:10.
You should really read the previous verse: “Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling”! Peter knew a thing or two about human nature; we often know what we should do, but do it resentfully. Why? Perhaps because we are tired, it won’t be recognized, the recipient of our largess is ungrateful, or we would simply prefer to do something else. Maybe some incentive will help: you will receive your reward in the life to come, or it makes you feel good inside. Possibly some “encouragement” may help: it is your Christian duty, it will devalue you reputation if you don’t, or how will you feel if you don’t?
Ah? The “should” and “oughts” of life. Too easy to feel our lives are being manipulated, or we are pushed into doing what someone else wants and our own plans for our lives are on hold. What is real service and what is coercion? How do we set priorities and boundaries for our lives yet still feel we are making a meaningful contribution? If we are supposed to consider others before ourselves (Phil 2:3) where do others needs leave off and our own begin?
It is here that I have no simple answers—each of us must evaluate our level of service. I find myself constantly assessing whether my service is meagre, sufficient or too much. The need is always there Jesus said, “The poor you will always have with you,” (Matt. 26:11) indicating that we can never cover the needs we are aware of. Perhaps the text gives some help; we should use the gifts we have been given fulfilling those tasks that we are equipped for. Others have gifts that we do not have, for tasks that we are not prepared for. And then, of course, it is not our gift we are giving away, but the grace of God that we have freely received. We act, not out of a need to serve, but from gratitude to God.
Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms. 1 Peter 4:10.
You should really read the previous verse: “Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling”! Peter knew a thing or two about human nature; we often know what we should do, but do it resentfully. Why? Perhaps because we are tired, it won’t be recognized, the recipient of our largess is ungrateful, or we would simply prefer to do something else. Maybe some incentive will help: you will receive your reward in the life to come, or it makes you feel good inside. Possibly some “encouragement” may help: it is your Christian duty, it will devalue you reputation if you don’t, or how will you feel if you don’t?
Ah? The “should” and “oughts” of life. Too easy to feel our lives are being manipulated, or we are pushed into doing what someone else wants and our own plans for our lives are on hold. What is real service and what is coercion? How do we set priorities and boundaries for our lives yet still feel we are making a meaningful contribution? If we are supposed to consider others before ourselves (Phil 2:3) where do others needs leave off and our own begin?
It is here that I have no simple answers—each of us must evaluate our level of service. I find myself constantly assessing whether my service is meagre, sufficient or too much. The need is always there Jesus said, “The poor you will always have with you,” (Matt. 26:11) indicating that we can never cover the needs we are aware of. Perhaps the text gives some help; we should use the gifts we have been given fulfilling those tasks that we are equipped for. Others have gifts that we do not have, for tasks that we are not prepared for. And then, of course, it is not our gift we are giving away, but the grace of God that we have freely received. We act, not out of a need to serve, but from gratitude to God.
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