Posted by Hope on September 16, 2011 at 11:50 AM in Driven by Purpose, For Change, Growing with Hope, Life at its Best, Reflections | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
I’ve been going through some memories – searching for times when strength and
peace seemed to come with much more ease. It those “remember when” moments that
a person’s faith is strengthened by the courage that carried them once upon a
time.
In less than one month, I'll be back in this very place. The calmest and most relaxing moments of my trip to Israel last year was a boat ride on the Sea of Galilee. The water was calm; the weather was warm and sunny – a perfect day. I began thinking about the night the disciples were on the boat and a storm began. Jesus – walking on the water – came to their rescue. Peter however mustered all the courage he could and took a step in faith.
When the skipper stopped the boat I began looking out upon the water. I wondered, if a storm kicked up right this minute, would I step out? Would I be brave enough not to take my eyes off him – even for a second?
He gave me a revelation on the Sea. He showed me that I don’t have to be on the Sea of Galilee to walk on water during a storm. Life is filled with opportunities to practice. When the winds of life are blowing and the waters grow rough, I know what I need to do. Today, I may take only a few steps, but I know that during the next storm, I’ll take a few more, and a few more the storm after that as I learn to focus on the Calm in the storm.
“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own,” Matt. 6:34.
Posted by Hope on October 26, 2009 at 03:18 PM in Reflections | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
I have a friend who likes to mountain climb. She finds it exhilarating. She stands at the bottom and sees nothing but a challenge before her. The fact that it is physically strenuous is just a bonus for her. She says she does her best thinking when she’s climbing. I do my best thinking when I’m walking, on flat ground.
Before I gave my heart to the Lord, the smallest thing in my life could seem like a mountain, or a valley, more like a perpetual series of mountains and valleys; you can just imagine what the crises seemed like. There never seemed to be that nice stretch of in between – you know what I mean – the “I’m neither elated or deflated” feeling. I often longed for that somewhere-in-the-middle kind of life. Seeing something positive in a struggle was neither something I aspired to nor something that ever occurred. I always seemed to be in-transition.
More than once, I’ve heard people say, “God may take you over a mountain, around a mountain, or through the mountain, but whatever He chooses – He’ll be there with you.” Transition is an event – a journey – in which a transformation is meant to occur. We can drag our heels or look at the journey as a quest or challenge and meet it head on. Whatever that journey may be, whether over a mountain or through a valley, the peace of the Lord can be found; it’s there for the taking.
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid,” John 14:27.
Posted by Hope on October 04, 2009 at 08:13 PM in It is what it is ..., Reflections | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)
Posted by Hope on July 15, 2009 at 06:08 PM in Faith Like This, Perspective, Prayer is Always Answered, Reflections | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
Posted by Hope on July 08, 2009 at 03:24 PM in Reflections | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
Posted by Hope on June 25, 2009 at 08:02 PM in Bitter Roots, For Change, Reflections | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)
How do we become impatient? Is it something we learn, or does it come naturally? Why are some people so easy going and others not? Can we change?
When I was a young newlywed, before ATM’s were invented, people received paycheques made of paper. They had to stand in line at the bank to take care of business. Living in a city of primarily government workers meant that every second Friday those line-ups were … well … imagine a day of free coffee at St. Arbucks … yup … those were the good ole days.
On one of these fine Friday evenings my husband was waiting in the comfort of the car listening to the radio while I stood in a line that serpentined from the foyer to the counter. About 20 minutes into my wait the sound of a blaring horn caught the attention of all the customers. The driver kept honking and honking until, his impatience got to the better of him, and he simply left his hand on the horn. I was married to that driver. He was yelling and gesturing at me from inside the car. What could I do but turn red and hope no one would see me get in the car with him some 45 minutes later.
Some friends and I were talking about waiting on God – waiting to hear from Him concerning various issues. None of us doubted, for a moment, that He would answer, the question was: when? That Friday evening of decades gone by popped into my head and I started to laugh.
I wonder if, in all my impatience, I ever look like that driver to God. I wonder if He ever questions why I can wait in line at Starbucks for a latte I can never finish, and don’t really need, but I can’t seem to wait on Him. I can be like a screaming child who’s missed a feeding – answer me, answer me now! All the while – I know – I KNOW – that He answers. He answers and provides in His perfect timing and sometimes that means I need to wait. That should be enough, shouldn’t it? Honk, honk.
“Make me to know your ways, O LORD; teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all the day long.” A Psalm of David 25:4-5 ESV.
Posted by Hope on June 17, 2009 at 04:34 AM in Be Still and Know I Am, Hope and Grace, Reflections | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)
Posted by Hope on June 15, 2009 at 04:20 AM in Hope and Grace, Love Never Fails, Reflections | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBack (0)
I’m a lover of nature – of God’s creation. It doesn’t take much to amaze me. I feel His presence most when I am appreciating the splendour of His work. He often speaks to me when I take the time to observe and ruminate, or meditate, on what He’s showing me.
A few weeks ago, while taking a walk, I heard a sound I had never heard before. When I looked up I saw a goose – one goose – flying very low and in the wrong direction. In Canada, when spring rolls around, we see geese – in flocks – flying home from their winter stay in the south. They honk from on high in unison; that sound is unmistakeable. On this particular day however I heard what one single goose sounds like. Had I not looked up, I would have never known it was a goose. It was the distance that made the difference. And why was he flying so low? Why was he alone and going in the wrong direction?
I wondered what I sound like to God when my voice is more distant than usual, when I’m calling to Him from the ground instead of meeting Him in the spirit? I wonder what He thinks when He sees me in my low times, moving about in the wrong direction, alone instead of in the flock He placed me in.
That goose was separated from his flock. Perhaps this was by choice. Maybe he thought he could wing it alone. There are times when I think the same way. I tend to distance myself from the flock because I’m naturally a loner. But too much time alone usually disorients me; I lose touch, my flight path changes and the next thing I know I’m having a long distance relationship with God.
The flock flies together; they look out for each other. They hold each other accountable and though they travel long distances – they don’t have a long distance relationship with their Creator. They soar when they are together and low when flying solo.
Are you flying solo? It's the distance that makes the difference.
“And in him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit.” Ephesians 2:22 NIV.
Posted by Hope on June 03, 2009 at 05:00 AM in Growing in Community, Life at its Best, Reflections | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
Everyone has some kind of “mark” they are trying to hit. For some of us, life is one big target practice. In my BC days, I was constantly in training – always trying to out do others – always trying to outdo myself – and always missing the mark.
I wish that I could say all that stopped after giving my heart to the Lord. It didn’t – at least not right away and not completely. I came to the Lord having been steeped in sin. I believed there was nothing of any value in me as a person. I believed I was unworthy. I would look around at other people in my church community and think that they were righteous and unblemished – that they couldn’t possibly feel the way I felt. I was wrong.
The wonderful thing about living authentically in a community that does the same is that it becomes abundantly clear that we are more alike than different. I take no consolation in other’s misery; it doesn’t make me feel better about myself to hear that someone else struggles in their journey toward Christ-like character. What brings me consolation is the comfort I can bring to another who is frustrated by their journey by sharing my frustrations. It’s very difficult to be around people who hide their shortcomings beneath a mask. We all know that only Jesus has a perfect character so the masked individual is only hiding from themselves when they look in the mirror.
It is what makes us the same that grows us together in relationship and there is one thing we all share: we all miss the mark when it comes to the nature and things of God. Relationship is the place where we encourage ourselves by encouraging others in truth and in love. There is no better training for Christ-likeness than in authentic relationship with others.
“For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard. Yet God, with undeserved kindness, declares that we are righteous. He did this through Christ Jesus when he freed us from the penalty for our sins,” Romans 3:23-24.
Posted by Hope on February 27, 2009 at 06:00 AM in Growing in Community, Perspective, Reflections | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)



