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Showing posts from July, 2011

Green Lights

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

Walking in a Fog

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

Canopy of Grace

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

Sands of Memories

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