Unveiling Hope

The Master Gardener

There’s a beautiful tree that has provided me with an incredible amount of pleasure over the last few years. It stands outside my home office window. My desk is directly beneath that window. 

This tree has withstood the trauma of recent 100 km/hr winds; it has beared up under the burden of incredible amounts of snow gathered in its boughs, has been home to various little creatures and has brought me much inspiration over the years.

This morning while sitting at my desk, I heard what sounded like a chain saw. I stood up and looked out my window to see a gardener with a truckload of equipment; his gaze was firmly cast upon this tree. Poor tree had no clue what was coming.

A professional horticulturalist doesn't hack away at a tree or plant just anywhere and he doesn't do it simply for esthetic reasons. Pruning is required to trim away deadwood, remove disease and tissues that inhibit healthy growth, and to control and direct growth by giving it shape. 

Pruning is something that is part of life whether it is done by a gardener, by nature and the elements or by God Himself . It is, generally speaking, not a pleasant experience and the immediate after effects can leave the prunee looking and feeling rather stripped down and exposed.

The last few weeks have left me feeling rather stripped and exposed. Sometimes we go through life and stuff just starts to attach itself to us - once it does, the potential for growth is there. Everyone knows that a rotten tree doesn’t grow good fruit and who wants or needs rotten fruit? This time of pruning hasn’t been easy. I’ve been completely present and awake for this spiritual surgery. The things revealed to me haven’t been a complete surprise - let’s face it, when there’s a huge bump protruding from your noggin - you know it and the same goes for spiritual bumps. And so it seems that, at least for now, like my beloved tree, the Master Gardener has finished pruning me for this season. And again, like my tree, I am feeling somewhat worse for the wear. The wonderful thing is that I know in a few weeks or months from now, like that tree, I will be stronger than ever and more fruitful ... and isn’t that the whole point?

 

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me” John 1:1-4.

 

Girl's Treasure or God's Treasured?

I was speaking to a friend recently, trying to get to the root of an issue, when suddenly I remarked, “Not this again!” You would think after all the work that God has been doing in my life to remove the root of pride that, by now, there’d be nothing left! Sadly, there seems to be no short supply.

In my BC days, it seemed that I spent most of my waking moments trying to polish myself up for the world. It wasn’t because I was extraordinary in any way or form. In fact, I was quite the opposite. I was very insecure, filled with anger, and so brimming over with false pride to cover it all up that I kept a constant buffing vigil to make sure people wouldn’t see that it was only my surface that sparkled.

When I became a Christian, I was sure that my transformation would be spectacular, something for the world to see. I’ve watched God carefully chisel away at many of my facets. I believe I secretly expected that one fine day, He’d be done and I would be a precious gem, perfectly cut, and flawlessly displayed on His finger, at just the right spot, for His Light to shine through. Yes indeed! I’d be so filled with Light that I would just bedazzle the whole world with my glory – er – I mean His glory. Okay, I meant my glory. OY! Not this again!

A diamond is the hardest natural substance known to man. What people get often forget is that a diamond was diamond before it fell into the hands of a diamond cutter. Sure, who would want to wear a chunk of uncut diamond around town? That, my friends, may be the point. I think that’s the very part of the diamond that God prefers. God doesn’t need shiny and sparkly to know that there is value to a gem. We’re all gems to Him. I have spent so much time, since giving my heart to Christ, trying to be a gem that I forgot that anything I make has no intrinsic value. And, anything I make – I take credit for. I can polish myself up until I cause blindness, but I’ll never be as precious in any one else’s eyes but His – just the way I am – the Hope diamond – cut by the Master for the Master.

I see value in the natural; if it twinkles in the light, it’s got to be real. God sees precious in an entirely perfect way. If it twinkles in the Light, His Son must be in there somewhere. I believe God is taking me from the journey of worldly clarity and cut and making me a cut above in His eyes, not mine, and certainly not anyone else’s, lest I boast, which I do.

“God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him, you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness, sanctification and redemption,” 1 Cor. 1:28-30.

Diamonds may be a girl’s treasure, but a diamond in the rough is God’s treasured.

Putting a New Spin on Life

Life Centre has been doing a series of talks entitled Whispers. During the first talk I found myself feeling pretty proud (oh oh); thinking I really don’t have a problem hearing God. This past Sunday however, I was humbled to tears.

This past year or so has been tremendous as far as spiritual seasons have been concerned. God has faithfully brought me and my family through some pretty tight and tough spots. He has been more faithful than I. In this last month or so I have heard Him speaking to me but have failed to listen and obey.

I’m a doer. I shamefully admit that rather than seek my value and worth in God, I – all too often – find my value in what I accomplish. Summer has always been a difficult time for me, both in the spiritual and natural realms. Overachievers do not fair well with times of refreshing. I should be brutally honest in my confession; I feel completely useless and without value during the natural season of summer. I feel off kilter, out of sorts, and I don’t know how to relax.

On Sunday, Pastor Jason so eloquently spoke of how many people go through life trying to seek a natural balance by spinning the plates that represent the facets and priorities of their lives. I’ve become quite adept at spinning, but I understand completely now that even when the process appears to be working, it doesn’t – not for the long haul. 

God has been trying to impress upon me that He has placed me in a season of rest. This past Sunday, He stopped talking and took matters into His own hands. He showed me that I have been rebellious. You can be a consummate professional at spinning plates, but when God can’t get your attention by speaking to you – He might just very well remove a plate or two. That’s what got my attention.

Are you spinning?

“So Eli told Samuel, “Go and lie down, and if he calls you, say, 'Speak, LORD, for your servant is listening.' " So Samuel went and lay down in his place. The LORD came and stood there, calling as at the other times, "Samuel! Samuel!" Then Samuel said, "Speak, for your servant is listening." 1 Samuel 3:9-10 ESV.

Serenity Now!

I’m a perpetual student. I have a passion for learning. There’s just one little problem: I want to learn it all in one day. I want to learn and I want the understanding NOW!

I’ve been studying Hebrew since the end of March. I say studying instead of learning because just when I think I’m learning I realize that whatever I learned in my last lesson has somehow managed to leak out of my ears.

Admittedly, I’m a quitter by nature; if I don’t get something right away I usually give up.  BUT . . . what’s is more frustrating than that is that I am more stubborn than I am a quitter. Someone said it was great how I seem to be rising to the challenge. HAH! Do you know me at all! Any success I am having I attribute to the One who is granting me just enough serenity to get to the next lesson. Why just enough? Because it’s all I need.

People often think that once they give their hearts to God everything will be wonderful. All of life's little problems will cease to exist because we’re in relationship with Almighty God. It just doesn’t work that way.

Do I get frustrated? Yes, of course. Do I ask for serenity now? Yes, of course. But when I sit down to a lesson and He sits down beside me it goes so much better. It’s not merely the fact that my level of frustration decreases, it’s the fact that He’s interested because I’m interested. He’s as passionate about me learning Hebrew as I am. Being in a relationship doesn’t change the fact that life is life. Being in relationship simply means that while you’re doing life you’re doing it with Someone who is for you and not against you. I love that He is always there for me no matter what I’m doing. I love that He’s the first one I go to. I love that He loves being the One I go to, time and time again.

So, I get a little frustrated now and then. When all is said and done those are the moments from which I derive the most satisfaction and success. Those are the teaching moments for Him and the learning moments for me.

Opportunity Knocking. Quick, Close the Door!

I’m thinking about having a surgical procedure done; I really need to have my lips sewn together because it seems that this will be the only way to surely keep my tongue from flapping off its roller.

Talking can be a dangerous thing, not just talking to others, or about others, but revealing something about yourself which ends in the phrase, “I wish I wasn’t like that” or “I wish God would change that about me.” It’s not as if I haven’t experienced enough to have learned that God answers prayers. Is not one of my favourite sayings, “Watch what you pray for, you just might get it?” Huh? I ask you?? Why do I keep letting these things slip out? I’ll tell you why! My tongue is alive – it has a life of its own – it seems to be an entity in and of itself.

So, here’s the thing: I’m in a conversation the other day with a close friend. I’m revealing to her my dislike for most opportunities to socialize with people – parties, dinners, you get the picture. I end my phrase with, “I wish God would show me what that’s all about because I wish I wasn’t like that.” (You can’t see me, but I’m still shaking me head). She’s shocked and I’m all do you know me at all? Soooo, my friend pipes up and says, “maybe you’re afraid of people.” Gulp. Huh? Wha? Ding, ding, ding. Wait – that can’t possibly be it! Can it???? Her comment has left me drilling down beneath the surface to find out why I go to such great lengths to avoid people – especially meeting new ones. Opportunity might be knocking, but while it knocks I’m trying to bolt the door shut.

There’s an expression people use a lot, “hurting people hurt people.” Yes they do indeedie. I have inflicted and been afflicted and it’s not fun – even for the inflictor. I have to admit that this fear of being hurt affects my willingness to stick my neck out there on the social chopping-block if you will. So, sighing loud enough to wake the dog, what’s a person to do in such a situation? Feel the fear and do it anyway! Trust! Ask God for His help … OY!

You know. When you ask for His input He’s always the comedian. He’s already staged His opening act by presenting me with more social situations than I can fend off with a stick. I’ll go, but I’m not gonna like it – until He changes me that is.

“Be transformed by the renewing of your mind,” Romans 12:2.

Comfort in Community

 During my trip to Israel I became ill. It wasn’t until very recently that I regained my health. In times of sickness, perhaps more than any other times, I find that I am usually more likely to remain independent and self-sufficient. While I do not for a minute believe that God “made me sick” I do believe with all my heart that His intention was to use this time to teach me a lesson or two.

It’s easy for me to reach out to God when I’m sick. I ask for healing. Sometimes He heals me and sometimes I have to let the illness run its course. It’s not difficult to call out to Him because it’s something I do in private. No one sees how needy I am. No one else sees me cry or complain. I know that even if I cry and complain incessantly – He won’t think of me as a cry-baby. He won’t think that I’m a pain in His Holy Side.

One afternoon, a couple of weeks ago, I had some dental work done – a root canal – by the following day a horrendous infection had set in. I had never (even during childbirth) felt this kind of pain before. I cried out to God but the healing wasn’t provided – at least not for what physically ailed me.

My son asked me, “Is there anything I can do for you?” I kept saying no. Really, what could he do – he wasn’t a dentist and he didn’t have any magic potion to take away the pain. God wanted to teach me that there are times to cry out in the supernatural and times to cry out in the natural. Because I rarely cry out into the natural, I prolonged my suffering. After about 24 hours, believe me when I say, I was crying out into the natural. Eventually, I did realize there was something my son could do – he was able to comfort me. In his words, “You always take care of me when I’m not feeling well. I can do the same for you.” He just wanted to be there for me. But it didn’t stop there. There was another lesson God wanted to teach me.

Hours later, the pain was excruciating. I was rolling around on the floor in tears – feeling completely out of control. I called a friend while sobbing like a baby and said, “Please come and take care of me.” What she was able to do was really not much more than what my son had been able to do, but I don’t think that was the point.

God has placed us in community for a reason. He knows that there are times we need a human touch. There are times we need to be comforted, to be tucked in, to be hugged, to have someone make us a bowl of soup, or pray for us. He has placed us in a family of community for this purpose – to express His love for us through others and to express His love for others through us. It works both ways. We cannot be givers and never receivers to do so is to rob others of their blessings. There is Comfort in Community because where there is love there is God.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God,” 1 Cor. 1:3-4.

Infirmity or In Firmity?

Have you ever made a decision and then panicked? If I’ve really made a decision about something can there be second guessing, wondering, or concerns about whether the decision was a good one? I mean – a decision is a decision, right? All the second guessing and ruminating is supposed to be done before the decision is made, isn’t it?

I recently made a decision. It was something I thought about and prayed about and thought about and prayed about it some more – then – I made my decision – or so I had thought.

What happened between Saturday and Sunday that left me feeling sick inside, really sick, so sick that I almost hurled at church? My “decision” left me feeling infirmed,   immobilized, inadequate, and insecure. I did make a decision.

There is an enemy that prowls about this earth seeking out that which he can devour. Sometimes, he bites off a little more than he can chew so he adjusts his plan accordingly – smaller bites and chew longer. That’s what he’s been doing to me – rephrase – that’s what I have been letting him do to me for the last 24 hours or so.

I could say to myself, “OY! Have you not dealt with this issue before – already!?” But I don’t need to because he keeps whispering it in my ear, over and over and over again, regurgitating the same garbage that would make anyone want to vomit.

It’s okay for him to try and wheel me to that place again and it’s okay that I go along for the ride now and then. But each time the process begins it’s a shorter time trip to the recovery room. With Christ as my Rock and Foundation, I go from “infirmity” to “in-firmity.”

“For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery,” Gal. 5:1.

Too Canadian?

If you were to ask those who know me best which of my characteristics require the most attention most would say my patience, or lack thereof. No worries, God is working on me and I’m trying to cooperate.

When the tour bus picked us up at Ben Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv, our guide Moshe began to give us a glimpse of our itinerary with a few ground rules and some advice: “Don’t be so Canadian,” he said, “you Canadians are too polite. It’s important for us to stick to our time line and we don’t want to get separated.” I was a little stunned; Moshe  has obviously never driven on the Gardiner Expressway in Toronto or the 174 in Ottawa during rush hour. I’ve met some Canadians who are not always “too” polite . . . excuse me while I remove the plank from my eye . . .

Throughout the trip however, I noticed that I was often lagging behind the group especially when we walked the Via Dolorosa – I felt like a sardine and a salmon at the same time, squished into a tight spot and swimming upstream.

Toward the end of our trip however – well – let’s just say that I was starting to lose my patience and I was tired of being literally pushed around. At the airport in Athens, as we were called to board the plane, I was at the front of the line with Pastor B. Within seconds, we ended up somewhere in the middle. My eyes were popping; I was incredulous. Pastor B reminded me, “when in Rome...”

“That’s it!” I declared. “No one else is getting in front of me.” I meant it – sort of. My flesh was battling with my spirit. Everything in my body wanted to shove a few people but my spirit kept telling me to be patient and gentle. It’s not easy to be patient and gentle when there’s a drunken guy bobbing and weaving into everyone – no it wasn’t Pastor B!

I’ve been told I’m not always the most diplomatic person and that may be true, but deliberately being rude – as upset as I might be – doesn’t come as easily as I thought it would. Am I “too” Canadian? We all have our moments. I think the real question is: “am I too Christ like?” That I can answer without a second thought: no – not even close – but He’s working on me. There’s always Hope.

Ida's Cousin - Otta

Even in a normal family, a reunion can stir up discord. It always seems that the very two that should never be left alone together always seem to end up breathing down each others’ necks, making everyone else wish they were invisible. 

Last week, I introduced you to IDA. This week, IDA attended a family reunion and met OTTA and between the two of them there was enough friction to start a bonfire with wet kindling.

I have an expression that, unfortunately, I use far too often . . . “take my advice, I’m not using it.” I OTTA know better.

I grew up in a home where there was a lot of anger. There was a lot of sarcasm, passive-aggressive behaviour, and then one day – BAM! – someone would blow up. I detest being angry. It stirs up emotions inside that I don’t even recognize. It manifests itself in physiological symptoms that feel as if they have control over my body.

Because I don’t like being angry, I try and pooh-pooh everything away, shoving it down, telling myself that whatever it is it's too insignificant to warrant my reaction or attention. That’s not a healthy thing to do; I’m working on it . . . STILL.

I think I have this messed-up errant belief that a “good Christian” just doesn’t get angry. I know that isn’t true. Jesus never said not to get angry, He just said not to let the sun go down on our anger. I spend so much time trying to deny uncomfortable emotions that eventually I don’t even know where they’ve come from.

My boss asked me if something was bothering me yesterday. As I began telling him, I realized that my reason for being bothered was simply ridiculous. He knows I’m not prone to getting upset over something that inconsequential so he kept digging, “What else? What else? What else?” He continued until finally the real reason came out – something I had deemed as stupid and shoved down with everything else.

I think anger is a secondary emotion; it’s the result of another emotion not being addressed. It usually starts when IDA walks into the room and meets OTTA. I OTTA know better by now. But instead of looking at how far I’ve come, I look at where I think I OTTA be and it just doesn’t work that way, does it?

Have you ever met Otta?

“Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything,” James 1:4.

What about Him?

 

“When Jesse was my age he never had to . . .” I don’t hear that so much anymore, but when both my sons lived at home . . . OY!

It’s too easy to look around and see things that seem unfair to us. Someone in the office avoids work and gets paid far more than we do. The two cars in front of us were going faster than us but we got the fine. So and so can afford a new car every two years and we’re still making the payments on our five year old Honda that’s already starting to rust!

A group of friends were discussing a similar issue last week. I have a friend who can sit for hours worshipping the Lord. Oh, I can worship the Lord, but I can’t sit still to do it if my life depended on it. I suppose, if I’m really, really honest, there’s a bit of coveting going on there. Gee, I hate saying that. I despise jealousy. I’ve tried, in my mind – even while writing this post – to justify myself – to phrase it in just a way so it doesn’t look like what it really is. If it walks like a duck . . .

I was no sooner finished my admission of guilt when someone else said, I wish I could write like you. It was then that it all hit me dead on between the eyes. I told my friend that she should be careful what she wished for because what she didn’t know is that while I may be able to write, I have dyslexia and it takes me at least three times as long as anyone else to learn something – especially if I have to read it. Given that my dear friend has a Master’s degree, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want everything that comes along with my gift.

It was during these brief moments of truth that I realized, at an entirely new level, that every time I look elsewhere other than at myself and God, I’m telling Him that He’s deficient in His provision, or that He’s unfair. It’s impossible for Him to be stingy or unfair. He gives and provides exceedingly and abundantly – beyond what I will ever deserve. In fact, if He gave me what I deserved . . . well . . . I don’t even want to go there.

In the Book of John, Chapter 21, after Jesus told Peter what was to come of him in his old age the first words out of his mouth were, in effect, “What about him?” He was referring to his friend John. Jesus’ simple and yet eloquent response was, “what is that to you?”

The Joneses have probably been around since the days of Abraham. Their family seems to be doing mighty fine because it seems as though many of us are often caught peeping into their house to see what they’ve got, or how we can keep up with them. So, when I find my little nose firmly pressed up against their window the distinctive echoes of my Jehovah Jireh reverberate from my head to my heart, “What is that to you?”