A Fellow Traveller

Yesterday I asked the question,"How can I restore my soul on the fly? When my schedule has little breathing space, how can I get through the day intact?" Because my Shepherd knows me intimately and walks right beside me, the moments of restoration come in bite sized pieces. There was the soothing music on the car radio, the extra walking time at the end of the day to deliver the dreaded flyers, the giving of service that brought quiet satisfaction, a meeting that took me out of the classroom for a day and an encouraging talk with fellow staff. I wish for a vacation yet the peace has to come from within. I wish for alone time, yet it is in giving to others that my purpose is fulfilled. I want the busyness of the season to pass me by, yet in the midst of it all, the unexpected quiet moments can restore. If only I can quiet my mind enough to enjoy these fleeting moments, I will gain the strength to navigate the stressful times.

1. God is my Shepherd (echo) I am his little lamb (echo) He feeds and looks after me (echo) I have everything I need (echo) Inside my heart is quiet (echo) Like lying still in soft grass (echo) In a meadow, by a stream my Shepherd cares for me. 2. Even when I walk through (echo) The scary, lonely places (echo) I don’t have to be afraid (echo) Because my shepherd knows I’m here (echo) He walks right beside me (echo) I trust him and I feel secure (echo) He keeps me safe and rescues me. He makes me strong and brave. 3. My Shepherd is preparing (echo) Wonderful things for me (echo) Everything I’ve dreamed of (echo) In heaven just for me (echo) He fills my heart with happiness (echo) I can’t hold it all inside (echo) God’s Never-Stopping Forever Love will always chase after me. My tune is "I am a Pizza". No matter what your tune may be, the truth of these words needs to sink in and connect to whatever the day's struggles may be.

Over me, under me, I am surrounded, I am surrounded by You You are holding me, constantly, I am astounded how I am surrounded by You. Those words (and corresponding music) has been in my head all week, making the truth expand to fill my heart. The truth of love and grace can surround me like air, even as I am unaware of my breathing it in and out. Sometimes I need protection over me. Often I need strength that supports and holds me up. I also need the comfort and assurance of arms of love that can wrap around me when I feel inadequate. The ultimate truth is that as I call out to Jesus, his love can be all that and more.

The workshop was great. There were lots of new ideas, some old ideas but all were presented in a fresh, active learning way. It was for teachers but was not about the curriculum. Instead, the 2 day workshop focused on the behaviour mangement of students. And it wasn't about changing the kids but about changing how I present and teach things. A simple comment, made as an aside, has stayed with me. The presenter said we would actually practice doing things the wrong way first. She said we will inevitably fall back into the old habits, no matter how good our intentions. The secret for change is learning to recognize what has happened in the moment, and then to step into a rehearsed recovery pattern. By doing the wrong first, and then practicing how to replace it with a better way, I can begin to feel the new way. It will take time before it becomes a habit....and repeated "recovering" attempts, but I shouldn't give up. How many times do I fail to incorporate new lear

A road trip along the Georgian Bay is a great way to vacation. The northern vegetation combined with an expanse of water is refreshing . We only had a weekend but we explored and discovered some abandoned sites along the way. In Nobel we found remnants of a wind tunnel used to test the Avroll Airplane engine. On Parry Island we found the Harbour where ammunition was stored and later burned. What made the remnants of concrete interesting were the stories from the past. Tom had done his research and bit by bit painted a picture of what had been. You could only look at the remains and infer from their placement where the buildings might have been. In some cases, all that was left was flush with the ground. The footprint left was quite small. Time and progress is gradually wiping it all away. Sometimes it was only part of a concrete floor or wall that could be found. But I found it interesting. The fun was in looking, taking pictures and realizing that a whole bunch of 'history' w

Walking today in the rain, I realized that if it had been pouring when I started walking, I would have grabbed an umbrella as protection. I would have hesitated to step out into a pouring downpour without protection. At the very least I would have prepared myself for the onslaught. It started as a light mist, gradually increasing in intensity to a heavy mist, and then finally to a light rain. I savoured the raindrops on my face at first, and noticed the tickle of rain on my neck. It took a long time, but eventually I found myself wet all over. I didn't try to escape, but instead soaked up the experience. I found myself embracing the moisture running down my face, trickling down my neck. This was healing rain. I wanted more. God gives me just enough of himself to be healing; too much and I would run and hide. He gives enough to quench my thirst.......enough to saturate my heart....... as I continue searching for more. Here are the lyrics to Michael W. Smith's song Heali

A quilt is a collection of many bits and pieces, often scrapes and leftovers, pieced together to create beauty in an arrangement of design and pattern. Our friendship is also a collection of bits and pieces, often time and stories, linked together by the Creator who oversees the finished product. Only he knows how bits of my story and bits of your story will merge and influence each of our final quilts of beauty. We can appreciate his creative process as we view glimpses of beauty in the other's quilt, trusting God for what we cannot yet see in ourselves. I know in my head that true beauty is developed through interactions with others. I often lose sight of this when life gets busy and I resent interruptions. Two things I know to be true: "People are always more important than things." " The important things are not always the urgent and the urgent things are not always important." How do I find balance and yet stay focused on what needs to be accomplished? Ma

Today I'm up before the sunrise, once again driving my husband to work so that I can have a car to drive. I'm feeling half asleep, but that's okay. I'm planning on going back to bed to continue sleeping. That's been my routine, every third day of summer. Other things are on hold, like school, so I'm trying to adjust. Driving back, I choose to go through downtown Welland. Even with all it's stoplights, I sail right through. In amazement, I watch light after light stay or turn green, seemingly just for me. I had heard that they were timed to keep traffic flowing but I had never experienced it so clearly before. Wouldn't it be neat if God opened doors that clearly? If I could sail through decision after decision, knowing his will clearly and confidently? But it's more complicated than that. Other people seem to complicate things, slowing down traffic, causing more stops and starts. If I can stay focused on what's just ahead, I'll be okay

The early morning fog shrouded my neighbourhood in a damp mist. Instead of enjoying the sunrise, I found myself in a shadowy world, walking inside the dampness of a cloud. Spider webs stretched over lawns like mushrooms. Bushes and trees had their share of feathery webs while many were now visible beside fence posts and porch railing. What had been hidden before was now made visible. When I’m walking around in a fog, things sometimes seem surreal. It’s easy to be clouded in my thinking and forget foundational facts. The spider webs were already there but were invisible and unnoticed. Now, suddenly they are clear and brought into focus by a cloud resting on the ground. All week I’ve been thinking of the spider’s web as a canopy of God’s grace. Maybe this reminder is even more necessary on foggy days. When I’m feeling overwhelmed by outward demands, I need to look for evidence of God’s love and care for me. It’s a foundational fact that is often clouded and easi

It was the day before Brad and Debra’s wedding. The little spider scurried to find cover under a nearby leaf. The spray from my garden hose seemed gentle enough, from my perspective, but it was obviously messing with his world. The very thing disturbing the spider’s peace was also bringing with it nourishment and beauty to the front flowerbeds. The web stretched almost a foot between plants. Each droplet of water sparkled in the sunlight, showcasing something virtually invisible before. How could I have missed seeing this before? The intricacy and strength of the canopy’s design was amazing. Stubble and twigs underneath suddenly appeared as tent poles, hoisting up the canopy. I saw ants in my mind’s eye, enjoying shelter from the rain. Within minutes, I’d gone from watering my garden to thinking of myself scurrying as an ant to get all the wedding preparations done. God’s grace shelters like a filmy web, often invisible to those of us underneath. Evidence appears as

I have been riding the ocean waves for the past two weeks. I have fallen off my board more than once but have been forced to climb back on and continue the journey. I've gritted my teeth to persevere through persistent housecleaning only to feel the clean ocean spray on my face. I have experienced in a fresh new way the ocean support of family and friends. A wedding is not a solo event and I have a full list of tangible examples of what support looks like in practice . I have seen how some expectations have to be released before there is room for joy. If I cannot change something, it must be released so I can grow and find peace. The releasing of a firstborn child into the arms of another is a process, not a one time event. My love now is part of that ocean of support for this new couple. Now they can begin to learn how to ride the waves for themselves. Now that I've landed on the beach after the big day, I'm tired and physically drained. I'm parched and dry em

Life is a journey that keeps on surprising me. I keep hoping for a return to the familiar, only to find new places where I can apply familiar truths. Is the familiar where I sharpen my skills to truly grow? Maybe growth only happens on the new, stony ground. I seem to keep picking up good things to help me along the way. I hang on to them for the security of having when I am in need. Soon it begins to weigh me down. Ten years in Kindergarten brings it's accumulation of boxes of teaching materials and "stuff". There's stuff to sort, to store, to clean, to manage and maintain. How much of it do I really need? I tell myself I'll need to use it soon, but do I need it tomorrow? next year? I still keep creating, applying new ideas only to have more to add it to my collection. The boxes have been encroaching on family's living space for the past year. Now that another teacher is generously giving me resources for my new grade level, I am realizing the need to give

"Be still and know that I AM God." How can I be still long enough to know what this means when life is so busy? God told Moses to tell the people, "I AM that I AM", but that seems quite circular. I want to ask, " I AM what?" In the middle of a busy workshop day, I walked outside at Woodend among beautiful trees. These are the verses I found myself singing, repeating each line three times. Be still and know that I AM God...... In you, O Lord, do I put my trust....... I put down my roots, into your word..... You're the same yesterday, today and forever........ You are the source, I connect into you...... You are the God who hears my cries....... Then the song seemed to change it's voice, it's point of view suddenly switching, as if God was singing a love song to me. I AM the Lord that heals all your hurts....... I AM providing for all of your needs......... I AM the song that you can sing......... I AM the perfume that smells so sweet........

There is a classic Sesame Street song sung by Grover with Madeline Kahn. In his characteristic raspy voice, Grover tries to echo Madeline. Initially he sings right with her before learning what echo means. He learns to wait his turn, to listen and to match the tune and rhythm to the best of his ability. He feels like he will never master the "arioso" parts but keeps trying. As Grover sings with gusto, he feels her approval at his attempts. The song is beautiful, but not because of Grover. The beauty of the song comes from the relationship developing, the following of a leader, the patterns that repeat and because of Madeline's voice. I love the ending, where Grover can't sing low to follow her lead. He finally sings high, applying something he's heard before in the song. If Jesus was The Singer who echoed God's song on earth, I can also be a singer who learns to echo Jesus' voice. I can begin to feel his approval as I slow down to listen

During the week leading up to Easter, I had an opportunity to celebrate communion with a dozen women around a table. A simple broken loaf of bread was passed around and everyone broke off a piece of bread. It was a simple yet memorable expression of remembrance. "This is my body, broken for you." Most gingerly took a small piece of the bread, but one girl's piece broke off much bigger in her hand and we all giggled. Why were we being so careful? Would there not be enough to go around? "There is always enough of Jesus to go around," were my sudden thoughts. As I reflect a week later, I make another connection with Jesus' words. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they will be filled. Why are we readily satisfied with so little? If there is enough of Jesus for my life and it's problems, won't there also be enough for my friend's problems, and my neighbour's challenges and the injustices in my community? Maybe my pr

The curly headed girl bounced down the stairs, ready for breakfast. As a three year old, she climbed into her booster seat and waited for the bib to be fastened around her neck. But when something didn't go her way, the lower lip came out, arms crossed and we all knew Erin was not happy. To Tom and I sitting around the table, it felt like we had gone back in time. We had come to Honduras to visit our daughter Melanie, yet we felt like it was fifteen years earlier. Not only were there similarities in looks but also in personality. In the same day, it felt like we were spending time with 'the girl who was' and 'the girl who is'. There's a bit of grieving that goes into becoming 'empty nesters', even if only for seasons of time. By loving on Erin and receiving her love back, our hearts were filled. We went expecting to see the Melanie we sent and we did find her, though more mature than when she left. The surprise we didn't expect to see was Erin. W

Phoebe Gilman has written a wonderful tale of a Jewish grandfather who sews a blanket for his new grandson. As the boy grows and the blanket becomes worn, the grandfather is able to keep finding fresh ways to recycle what is left, wasting nothing as he keeps creating new items of value. The items do keep changing in size until finally a button is made to hold up suspenders. When the button is eventually lost and grandfather can do no more, the boy is left to create a story from the work that his grandfather has done throughout his life. I identify with this boy as God keeps creating in fresh ways, making something from nothing. He is so ready to solve my problems and mend relationships as I go to him and ask for help. As I recognize that he is bigger than any problem I bring to him, then he is ready to go to work. He only uses what I already have, seeing the potential when I see the problem. There is no waste, as even the leftovers are scavenged and put to good use by others. As God

The plane is fully loaded , destination Miami and I have an aisle seat near the front of the plane. Yet I can barely see outside since some window shades are pulled down around me. As I fasten my seat belt and watch the pre-flight routine, I think how this could seem like flying. If one had never felt the pull back into your seat and the tummy flip from getting airborne, you could tell yourself that you were flying. We sit on the runway a long time, taxiing and stopping repeatedly. Because I can't see outside, it is difficult to know the truth of flying.... until we finally lift off. How many times do I convince myself that I'm reaching my goals only to discover that I'm back where I started from? It's easy to convince myself that I am making progress because it all looks good. Yet the power is missing to actually take off and fly; to make lasting change that helps me achieve my goals. I need to access the Spirit's power beneath my wings. I need to admit I can&

Who isn't hoping for spring these days, with the extra cold wind blowing fresh snow across melted ice? It's the hope of spring that allows me to step outside in the early morning, knowing that soon I won't need to bundle up as much. It's the fact that spring always comes after winter, even if it's weather pattern is unpredictable. Not everything I hope for is a certainty. Hoping to win the lottery is outside of my grasp, especially since I don't have a ticket in my hand. Hoping that someone else will change is beyond my control, even if I can change my own words and reactions. But hoping in heaven is a surety for me that I cling to, some days more than others. When illness robs a friend of health and vitality, I put my hope in an eventual healing for her. When cancer brings intense pain, I know that God will wipe away every tear as they enter heaven. Seeing grief mixed with joy as I witness goodbyes to a ninety year old mother and grandmother gives me hope. Her

Are you tired of complaining about winter? I know it's cold, but why keep focusing on what we don't like about it? I know we have to let our cars warm up and watch for the ice on the sidewalks, but where's the childhood wonder of the season? It's time to actually go outside and look for it. Dress head to toe for the weather, including layers of long underwear and snow pants. You wouldn't send your five year old outside without it all, so take care of yourself in the same way. Don't worry about fashion. You want all your senses to be freed to discover the wonders of the season. Listen for the rhythmic scrunch scrunch that can become music if you let it. Look for the glistening sparkle of snow that resembles drifting sand dunes. Smell the freshness of clean air, noticing the clean slate that masks the daily dirt of life. Feel the tingle of cold on your cheeks while your body produces sweat and heat. Marvel at the intricacies of individual snowflakes if you are

The snow flakes are tiny, yet when they hit my face, they burn. The drifts are knee deep in places, still I plow through to place a paper in each mailbox. The wind pushes me from behind and then makes it difficult to breathe as it hits my face. Why am I even out here in the darkness of early morning? It's because 32 people have already paid the price for the Welland Tribune and expect it on their doorstep by breakfast. All the reasons I enjoy this in nice weather are gone in my memory. They are now replaced by determination to not give up until the job is done. Why can't I apply this concept to other areas in my life? Why am I wanting to give up on my writing course? I've already paid the price of the course. I've experienced satisfaction with the outcomes of some of the assignments. But now that I've hit a roadblock in inspiration, why am I allowing myself to sit on the sidelines? Where is the persistence that I dug into this past hour to get the news out? Do I ne