A Fellow Traveller

"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 ...