God

MAKE

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At Catalyst, Atlanta, this year’s theme was: MAKE. I have to admit, when I first heard that the theme was “make”, I had no idea where the conference would go with it. Of course, now it all seems so obvious.

We are made to be makers. We are made in the image of the Great Maker. Anything we do that makes instead of destroys, reflects God and leads us closer to the people we were made to be.

The word make showed up in so many different aspects of the conference – there was the Maker’s Market, where attendees could buy fair trade goods to help make a living for those in need; there were the talks, all of which were about making something (making culture, making peace, making history); and there was the idea that drove Catalyst this year: that God is making us into the leaders He wants us to be.

I love the idea that we were made to be makers. We are made to be makers of peace, makers of disciples, makers of relationship, makers of beauty, makers of hope. We are made to be those who build up instead of tear down. We are made to make someone else’s day, to make their lives better, to make their joy complete. Because that is what Jesus has done for us.

And because when we make, we reflect the image of God.

And I loved the idea that God is still making me. That God is still making you. From the moment we are born until the moment we die, God is never finished with us. He is always shaping us, forming and reforming us, making us.

There is a song by the Christian band Gungor (it’s the lead singer’s last name, in case you were wondering), who happened to lead a fair amount of the worship at Catalyst this year, called “Beautiful Things.”

The chorus goes:

You make beautiful things,
You make beautiful things out of the dust,
You make beautiful things,
You make beautiful things out of us.

I think it has to be the most encouraging thoughts I have come across in a long time…that as messy and confusing and broken as my life sometimes feels, God is making a beautiful thing out of it. Every once in a while I get a glimpse of the beautiful things God is making out of my life – and when that happens I am amazed at what the Great Maker is capable of doing with my efforts.

And you know what? It’s not just my life, that God is making beautiful things out of…but the life of anyone who chooses to live in relationship with God, anyone who chooses to be a maker. God is making beautiful things out of your life. Even if you cannot see it right now.

Because God is the Great Maker and He never leaves us and never forsakes us. He will always be making us new.

Autumn and inconsistent…

I often think of Fall as my favorite season. Unless you count Christmas, which I totally do – but that is my favorite because of twinkling lights and sparkly bows and beautiful carols and the birth of the Savior…not because of weather and what is happening out in the natural world.

Today I was running an errand and I saw the first kiss of fall color in a stand of trees. It just made me grin. I do love fall, but I think what I love even more than fall itself is the change of seasons. That shift as Summer morphs into Fall or Winter melts into Spring. That in-between-time when the previous season still makes an occasional appearance even as we are surrounded by signs of the new season.

It’s strange, because often I have such trouble with change. But when it comes to the seasons there seems to be such possibility and mystery in the changes. Sure, sometimes at this time of year you find yourself caught without a jacket on a day when it turns out that you really need one, or wearing too many layers on a day that Summer decided to pop back up. Sometimes the change surprises you. But there is beauty in the unexpected.
And in the midst of a change of season I find myself delighted by the unforeseen changes in the weather.

Now, if only I could translate that attitude to the unexpected things that happen in all avenues of life. Unfortunately, I am more annoyed than overjoyed when life throws me a curve ball. I find in-between-times full of frustration rather than expectation and mystery. I think – and this will come to no surprise to those of you who know me well – I want to be in control when it comes to change in the broad strokes of life.

When it comes to the weather, to the change of seasons, I’m well aware that I have no say in what will happen, so I don’t worry too much about it.

It’s a healthier attitude, especially for a Christian. I know that God is at work in this world. I know that He has a plan and I believe that His plan is for the good of us all. I believe His plan has to do with redemption and deliverance and new life. I can say all of that with confidence and with a still small voice in the center of my being whispering “it’s true, it’s true, it’s true…” So why can’t I have the attitude towards the changes in life that I have towards the change of season?

The answer is quite simple. I’m human. I’m fallen. I’m inconsistent. I’m in need of a savior. Thank God I have one.

In my mailbox…

#FMSPhotoaday Sept 4th: In my mailbox:

Sometimes I really hate checking the mailbox. At my house, a whole lot of the time, all I get is advertisements. That’s not fun. I’ve gone to paperless billing on virtually all my accounts, so I rarely get bills in the mail. That’s not NOT fun. What is actually fun is when you receive something nice in the mail. I shop online (when there is a good coupon or something I need that I can buy for cheap on eBay), so once every six or eight weeks so something that I ordered suddenly appears in the mail.

Those days are always the best mail days. Well, it just so happens there was a good coupon for Old Navy on Friday and that my order arrived in the mail today. A happy surprise on a rather gloomy day.

I think one of the things that I am going to appreciate about this Photoaday project is the way that it is making me think of things that might normally escape my notice. Little things that I need to be thankful for like a great moment between my Dad and my chosen-nephew. Or the clothes that arrived today (most of which actually fit, yippee! The purple jeans will fit in another few weeks, I swear). How blessed am I  that I can click a few buttons and have clothing arrive at my front door a few days later?

I was listening to a Matt Chandler book this summer and he was saying how we ought to go around thankful for everything. Not just the little things like clothing arriving at the front door and the fact that said clothing fits. But the things that none of us ever think about – the fact that our houses didn’t fall down on our heads today, or that we woke up with breath in our lungs, or that all the airplanes didn’t suddenly fall out of the sky. These are things we take for granted, but they are things that show us how good God is (since God is the one who came up with the rules of physics and life and aerodynamics…at least, He’s the one that those of us with faith credit for all that stuff).

That concept stuck with me, and though I won’t for a second pretend I’ve perfected the art of being thankful for the (seemingly) mundane. I will say that I’m working on it.

So let me take a moment to say “Thanks God”. Thanks that I am breathing, and so are the two dogs and a cat that share my house. Thanks for the fact that my parents arrived back to their home safely after driving all over Nova Scotia, Vermont, and Maine for the past three weeks. Thanks for the clothes that arrived at my door today, and the money that paid for them, and the calling that allowed me to earn that money. Thanks. For the big things and the little things and the mundane things. I can’t say it enough. Thanks.

Time…

Just about everyone is talking about the end of summer these days. I don’t know if it is because school starts next week, the sun is setting earlier or that hint of fall that’s been in the air for the last few days. Whatever it is, we’re all thinking about it. And most of us are asking the same question: Where did summer go?

It went the way of all seasons – it passed us by. I was reminded last evening that time is short and we do not know what tomorrow might bring (nothing tragic happened, the subject was raised by the NOOMA video my small groups leaders and I were discussing). The truth is that time isn’t short – time is time, a second is a second, a minute is 60 seconds no matter how you slice it. But our perception of time is relative to our emotional experience. The minutes can seem to drag on for hours when we are bored (10th grade math class, anyone?) or zip by too quickly when we are having fun (vacation!!!).

The thing is, the older I get, the more aware I am of all the minutes that seem to zip by, waaaaay too quickly. It seems that time is passing more quickly, with each year that I live. It’s starting to scare me a bit. That’s part of the reason I blog…so I will remember some of the moments that have passed me by.

What I want to remember right now is the way the dogs (my own Koski, and my parents’ Keeper) look  curled up on their mats in the livingroom, snoozing as I type this. And the way the air has been different the last few mornings as Koski and I took our walk along the Etobicoke Creek trail – tinted with coolness and the promise of fall. And the way the sun almost blinded me as I drove across the city under a perfectly clear sky to pick up a friend from the airport this evening. And the way my muscles have that deliciously exhausted feeling because of a challenging BodyPump class.

I want to remember all the things that make life good. All the tiny little blessings that God sends my way every single day. All the things I need to stop and say thank you for, even though most of the time, I don’t.

Because if I don’t remember them now, if I don’t notice them and express thankfulness for them now, I may not get the chance tomorrow.

 

…and the livin’ is easy…

Today has been a truly great day. It started with a long (ridiculously hot but ultimately satisfying) walk with Koski. Then my Mom and I took off together to explore “the county” (Prince Edward County, south of Belleville). We visited my favorite store in Bloomfield where I bought earrings and a ring (a vacation tradition), we shared a great lunch, wandered through pretty shops and drove through gorgeous countryside. We got home right at dinner time and had another fabulous farmhouse meal with my Dad and brother (grilled eggplant and zucchini, fresh green salad with choose-your-own-toppings, grilled chicken breast and a nice rosé).

As if all that wasn’t reason enough to be giving thanks to the Giver of All Good Gifts, I received word this evening that all went well at the Presbytery of Brampton this evening as they processed the call to the Rev. Geoff Ross for Lead Minister at St. A’s. This has been a long (though ultimately Spirit-filled and therefore beautiful) process. And I have to admit I have felt like I had my mouth taped shut (or my fingers glued together) when it comes to discussing it on my blog. I have wanted to log about so many different aspects and moments of the process. But to respect confidentiality, I have said nothing. Now as we move into the real “home stretch” of the process (all that is left is for Geoff’s Presbytery to approve the call and St. A’s to induct him), I am finally feeling free to write about it.

I guess what I most want to express is my sense of excitement when I think about this next phase in the ministry to which God has called all of us at St. A’s. I feel like God is up to something big, and I feel blessed to be part of it. I cannot wait to work with Geoff and to see what God will do as we work together in team ministry.

On that long hot walk this morning I listened to Matt Chandler’s book “The Explicit Gospel.” I was listening to a portion of the book in which Chandler does an impressive job of describing God’s greatness and why God deserves our worship. Chandler writes that it all belongs to God, every good thing is a gift straight from the Father’s hands. He writes that we don’t really do a good enough job in thanking God for all the good things in our every day. He states that we are quick to exclaim about the tragedy of a bridge collapsing (and there is nothing wrong with being moved by a tragedy), but we should be walking around amazed and thankful for all the bridges that have not collapsed.

As I listened and kept one foot moving in front of the other, I was reminded about how much I need to give thanks. After a great day like this, I am feeling the need to simply say: thank you, God, thank you.

Roots…

Today I had the rare opportunity to sit in worship and listen to my Father preach. It struck me as I listened, that there was a time when I did that every Sunday. And it struck me how long ago those childhood times are.

Listening to my Dad preach is a return to my roots. It was in those childhood days of watching and listening to my Dad that I learned most of what I know about leading worship. My Dad likes to tell me I am a good preacher, but as I listened to him today, I knew that any ability I have as a preacher has its roots in listening to him.

We are each our own person when we preach, but we also share phrases and language and theology. And that is kind of a beautiful thing. I love the thought that I am myself, but I am also my father. I love the thought that his fingerprints can be seen in me.

I am blessed to have been given great roots. I grew up knowing that I was loved more than I could ever imagine by One who died for me. And that out of that love, God had granted my folks the ability to love others. And God granted me the same ability.

I am convinced that it is because of such strong roots that my life flourishes now. And today, I have been reminded of my roots and I am thankful for them.

Home…

Yesterday I drove out to what is affectionately known in our family as “the farmhouse,” to spend the majority of my vacation there. The Farmhouse is my parents’ summer place, and a place where our family gathers to spend time together for holidays.

As my brother and I drove out there, I was thinking about the idea of ‘home.’ I was thinking how I was leaving my home in Brampton to drive to a place that I consider home in Madoc. Then I thought of my parents’ house in Belleville and how that is also home. Maybe home is where ever I am surrounded by people that I love, by family. Maybe home isn’t so much a physical place or a certain address. Maybe home is more a state of being. I like that idea.

There is a lyric in a Larry Norman song that goes “this world is not my home, I’m just passin’ through…” The point Norman is making is that we were made for eternity, not for this finite world. His home, then, is Heaven – a place of eternal relationship with a loving God. I believe that Heaven is our real home. Our ultimate home.

But I also believe that Heaven is as much a state of being as any other home, rather than a destination or a specific address. Heaven begins here and now, as we seek to live in relationship with the Living God through Jesus.

Still, I am glad to be blessed with more than one home in this world, while I am passing through.

The waiting…

I haven’t felt much like writing this past week. As a church, St. A’s is about to enter an exciting new phase. But the problem with that is that we are ABOUT to enter that new phase. Right now, it’s kind of a lot of ‘hurry up and wait.’

I have a friend going through that on a much more personal level as she waits for test results which will determine the course of her life over the next several months.

It occurs to me that waiting is the worst. Really. I say all the time: I can deal with anything once it’s on the table. But I will just about lose my mind waiting for it to be PUT ON the table.

A friend reminded me today of the promise found in 1 Peter 5:7:

Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you.

It’s wonderful advice, and I’d stake my life on the truth of this Scripture. But man, it is hard for me to actually DO. I know better. I KNOW better than to spend my time in worry. I know God’s got my back. He’s proved it to me over and over. And yet…

And yet, I find myself worrying and trying to solve problems that haven’t even fully arisen yet. In a strange way – I am thankful for that. Because it reminds me how desperately I need a Savior. And the wonderful, overwhelming, beautiful, transformational truth is that God has already provided one.

The weather?! Really??!

Yeah, really. I’m blogging about the weather. What else do you talk about when you have nothing to talk about?

Actually, I’m writing about the weather because in my little corner of Ontario, we’ve had this unbelievable stretch of sunny days. I can’t remember the last time it rained. In fact, even on the days that weren’t perfectly sunny, there’s been no precipitation. On the one hand, I love that because it makes it super-easy to get out for a walk with the puppy. There’s no prep (her raincoat, my raincoat, rainboots) needed and there’s no clean up afterwards (muddy paws, wet belly to wipe…I AM talking about the dog, people!).

On the other hand, there IS such a thing as too much of a good thing. After a time, the ground becomes hard, the plants suffer, there is danger of fires. I have friends who have been praying for rain because they were not able to get into their church camp due to forest fires.

A day of rain probably means I’ll have to forgo my beloved summer clothes (really, I adore tank tops and shorts and flip flops…I am, apparently, a minimalist when it comes to clothing). It probably means I’ll have to remember to bring Koski’s rain jacket down from my bedroom before our morning walk. It probably means I won’t be eating dinner out on the front porch with my friends in Oshawa tomorrow evening. I could look at it as a bad thing.

But a day of rain means other things, too. It means I will be cozy in my car as I drive to Oshawa (I love driving in the rain). It means that the forests will be less likely to catch fire. It means that the flower and trees will flourish.

Most situations are just like this: they have their good points and their bad points. You could look on them as a blessing or a curse. You could see the positive or the negative in them.

I think God calls us to see the blessing rather than the curse. When we focus on the negative, we rob ourselves (and those around us) of joy. And we are called to live joyfully.

I love that old saying “Life is not about avoiding the storm, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.” And that is just what I plan to do tomorrow!