Manipulated Thots

Beauty...

2010-05-11T14:28:00.000-07:00

"To possess true beauty, we must be willing to suffer...if Christ himself was perfected through his sufferings, why would I believe God would not do the same with me? Women who are stunningly beautiful are women who have had their hearts enlarged by suffering. By saying, 'Yes' when the world says, 'No.' By paying the price of loving truly and honestly without demanding that they be loved in return. And by refusing to numb their pain in the myriad of ways available. They have come to know that when everyone and everything has left them, God is there. They have learned, along with David, that those who go through the desolate valley will find it a place of springs (Ps. 84:6)" (Eldridge).

Deep Breaths of Navy

2008-11-09T21:19:00.000-08:00

There is nothing quite like my prarie sky - I know it may seem odd that I have claimed ownership of something so immeasurable, but I feel as though it truly is mine. There is something intimate between the vastness of its expanse and my heart, the way one lover simple knows and understands the other with one look - so too, my sky understands me.

Tonight I stood underneath it - an old, oversized, flannel jacket which belongs to my father wrapped around me. I stood and I looked into my sky, its enigmatic navy depth stared back at me, accentuated by small twinklings of light, stoic as I silently whispered my secrets.

Perhaps this is a form of prayer - I don't know. I am struggling with the truth that the more I strive to grasp ahold of God; the more intangible He becomes. In an strange way it seems to make sense that a Holy, boundless Creator would pour peace upon me through the serenity of my prairie sky.

I am not sure what I feel or am learning from God at this moment - but I do know that when the deep navy presses against me in the openess of the plains, I breathe it in. As deep and hard as I physically can - I breath - attmepting to lock the pure, cool comfort of the air into my soul.

And in those breaths every bit of the choas, joy and saddness - every pressing doubt and worry - is gently absorbed by my sky. They are put into the perspective of a greater timeline. There is nothing quite like my prairie sky.

A 'new' thought

2008-09-19T11:04:00.000-07:00

I have a new thought. And reader beware, it is not just any old 'new' thought. This thought is quite substantial. It is a big, wild, scary new thought. This new thought completely amazes me, it fits in my brain like a perfect puzzle piece, and no amount of over looking or ignoring seems to be dislodging it. I find my new thought - well, terrifying. It is the type of thought I feel will be shut down, and/or swept under the rug by others and so with my emotionally stunted logic, I am attempting to shut it down and/or sweep it under the rug before anyone else can.

But today - casually as I was doing dishes the new thought started to make noise inside its perfectly fitted place in the back of my brain. The more I ignored new thought, the louder it became. So I did the unthinkable - the unwise, I spent some time pondering the new thought. I thought about it, I turned it to the left, to the right, even upside down. And in this small amount of time new thought started to grow. It grew and grew until I realized new thought had worked its way down into my heart. And this can only mean one thing - trouble.

Really, the truth about this new thought is it is daring and fragile all at the same time. It requires both courage and humility - two things which I am usually in want of. But, whenever I dare to think about this new thought, it makes my heart race, my blood pumps a little faster, my stomach dances with butterflies. This new thought tickles my soul.

And thats it. That is as far as I am with new thought. My dishes are still dripping in the sink. I am not sure if I should take this wonderfully frightening new thought and hide it under my pillow - only to be thought of in the darkness of a sleepless night. Or if I should ponder it some more and let it grow into some sort of action within me.

I don't know - I know what I would tell others in this situation - but I am not others, I am me. And personal advice from your own person never seems to have the same effect.

So I will leave now, possibly to wrestle with new thought and finish those dishes...

***

2008-03-18T22:28:00.000-07:00

There are minutes which last for hours,

where have I been - - where did I go...
I am running
not along side, but alone

I called you and you didn't know my name
I wasn't yours
I was mine

And in truth I wonder if hurt is undoable
there is hurt, and there is harm...one heals and one endures
how can one so insignificant wound one so great

I called you and you didn't know my name
I wasn't yours
I was mine.

There are minute which last for hours

****

Have you ever traveled a familiar path and forgotten how you arrived at your destination? You arrived, and in one peice none the less, but you can't remember driving past the bend in the road, the sign post which you know by heart seems to have completely escaped you today. You tap the break, look around you and have no idea how you have gotten where you have gotten--but you are here, in that familiar place yet again.

That is where I am today - - my arrival is obvious, I just don't remember getting here.

Who exactly do I think I am?

2008-02-04T13:46:00.000-08:00

I have been considering my life in the light of true lordship (what ever that may look like) and am always surprised at my sense of entitlement and pride. Who exactly to I think I am???

The apostle Paul's words spoke to my wounded and prideful spirit this morning:

But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everthing a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I might gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ - the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings become like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do Forgetting what is behind and strainging toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Sigh, I have quite a long journey ahead of me.

Trust, Faithlessness & Unbelief

2008-01-20T18:44:00.000-08:00

Everyone has certain memories or perceptions of themselves; both past and present. Sometimes those memories/perceptions are accurate, sometimes they are less than accurate. For instance I like to recall myself as somewhat of a darling when I was a child. Though I lacked the adorable dimples and ringlets which my two siblings were blessed with, I had always considered my 'sweet' disposition the trade off, not necissarily one I was happy with, but a trade off none the less. When my siblings and I tease each other or rassle I am always the first to shout out 'Be nice to me, I'm the gentle one.' And it was during one of these moments where my now burly older brother was threatening to twist me into a pretzel that I shouted out my defence tatic, "Don't hurt me! I'm the gentle one!" That my mother took the time to remind me that I was never as sweet or gentle as my select memories led me to believe.

She brought me back to one occassion in particular where my 'sweetness' had devasting results. Are you familiar with the game called 'trust? It was a childhood favourite of mine. I think I savored the challenge of convincing another person to crawl upon the highest ledge I could find and then fall back into my scrawny eight year old arms. I mean if you could negociate someone on to that high of a ledge, you really had accomplished something. Now, in this particular forgotten memory the half-convinced particpant was my five year old sister. I had spoken with great eloquence that she could trust me and with all the the sweetness God gave me I promised I would absolutely, under no circumstances drop her. So picture the cutest child; with blonde riglets and dimples that could hold water (so obviously not me) standing on an impressivly high ledge. And underneath her, another blonde with stringy straight hair, a potbelly and skinny legs and arms discussing with her friend and accomplice, how these limbs were going to catch her trusting little sister - when in the midst of their conversation - "WHOMP" - The tiny ringlet child hits the ground -the 'sweet' child stares and her wheezing sister - and forces her to promise not to tell anyone. The ringlet tells and trust on both sides is lost....

Not exactly the actions of a child with a sweetheart disposition. And while I will save the indepth examination of my 'sweet' character for another time - this moment in my past did force me to ponder the subject of trust. My trust in myself, in others and most importantly God. I realized, that God has never negociated with me, not that I didn't try...He has never forced me anywhere with smooth words and He most definately has not dropped me. And yet to trust Him....fully, completely with every atom of my person - this task with great honesty is one that I struggle with.

Here are two quotes that came from a man named Peter Wolfe who preached last Sunday:

"Trust is a peaceful place."

and...

"Faithlessness is not unbelief, it is an unwillingness to trust."

Sometimes I weigh truth against my human expereince, my memories and perceptions which in many ways are skewed rather than my holy expereince which is always washed in grace and resonates with the truth with which I struggle to trust.

To Live Life Well

2008-01-07T22:14:00.001-08:00

Throughout my entire life I have been acceptable but expendable - I wouldn't call myself a doormat by any means but I have certainly been a stepping stone; adequate, even necessary, but valued only until the next step up becomes available. In many, though not in all, of my relationships, friendships and family ties I am underscored - my stories are never finished because it doesn't occur to others to listen for their conclusion. My dreams and ambitions are damped by reminders of my many limitations. I smile politely and play the role of the 'punch line'. I am the do-gooder, the gopher and quite simply the nice girl.

During my holiday visit home I was hurt by three different people on three different occasions. And the reality is that I don't hold it against them, I doubt they are even aware that in their careless battering of words and/or actions they bruised me. And I have no intention of telling them because the hurt that I felt has spurred me towards a powerful realization. Tonight as I laid awake in my bed it occurred to me that I view myself through their eyes, I truly believe that I am acceptable, yet expendable. And THAT is simply not acceptable.

I have been evaluating life a great deal lately. I have spent this holiday watching how a disease(s) is changing a man I love dearly - as he ages, the life that he defines himself with and person that he is falls away. I am aware more than ever that the blood which flows through his veins in the same blood that flows through mine. I very well could find myself battling his battle in the years to come. Life then becomes a fragile treasure and I am struck with the momentous craving to live life well. I want to live life well - when I look back whether it is tomorrow, in ten years or in a life time I want to know that I lived life well. Frighteningly enough that begins with me...and nowhere in that ambitions thought is their room for acceptable, satisfactory, or passable.

The passion of my heart beats for people, when I hear their stories I am enthralled, overjoyed and thrown in to sorrow. When I hear their hurts I can almost feel it with my own body and my own heart. And yet somewhere in that I have lost myself - aside from people and my past few years ministering to them and with them I have lost my story. So, I suppose I am making a New Year's resolution, though it feels greater than that, I am going to spend some time getting to know myself this year.

This year I will seek to grow closer to God - not because I want to be a better Pastor for my congregation, but because God desires me on a personal level and I am desperate for Him on that same level. I am going to read Hemingway and Dickens because I love literature. I am going to cook, because the being by myself in a kitchen offers me a sense of serenity. I am going to write more - even if it scares me. I am going to breath deep and listen to the silence valuing the one person in my life who is impossible to evade - myself. And hopefully in this year to come I will gain some insight on what it means to live life well.

Of love and discipline...

2007-12-04T12:00:00.000-08:00

I remember this conversation so clearly; 'Erica, there is a difference between punishment and discipline - we want you to discipline.'

That sounded simple enough, I was more than willing to call the consequences of disobedience discipline if it would please my superiors. I was working at camp that summer and had a cabin full of girls who excelled in the area of disobedience, in such a way that you slept with one eye open. Whether I was breaking up fights, discovering hidden beer bottles or addressing an overall lack of respect I was furiously ready to 'discipline.' I even had the method for this 'discipline' in mind - I had decided that these hellions were going to pick rocks by hand in the horse arena in the heat of the day. It was perfect; it would exhaust them and hopefully put a damper on their abundant supply of schemes.

I presented the 'discipline' to the camp director, expecting some praise for my ingenuity and empathy for my ongoing suffering, only to hear that my proposal wasn't discipline. Rather my proposal was punishment and it would not become discipline until I chose to go with them and work along side them. It would be discipline if I endured the consequences with them.

'WHAT!' - this did not fit in my understanding of justice, I had done nothing wrong and now I was sentenced to the same consequences as they were. But, I was challenged in my love for the girls, did I love them in the midst of their hurtful words and actions, in the midst their blatant disrespect to discipline them so they would grow? Did I love them enough to walk along side them experiencing the same consequences of their discipline so they would know that they were loved?

To Adam he said, "Because you listened to your wife and ate from the tree about which I command you, 'You must not eat of it'

Cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat of it all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of you brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.'"...

And the Lord God said, "The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever. So the Lord God banished him from the Garden of Eden to work the ground from which he had been taken. After he drove the man out, He placed on the east side of the Garden of Eden cherubim and a flaming sword flashing back and forth to guard the way to the tree of life.

I find it completely fascinating that God did not stay in the Garden of Eden, that He did not remain in the heavens. God banished Adam and Eve away from the garden, sealed off all entrances and joined them in the harsh realities of their discipline. God loved them that much - enough to endure the consequences with them so they may grow and ultimately lead to salvation through Christ.

I am currently struggling with God - and have been for a long time. Often during these times I banish myself from His presence. I punish myself, unaware, that God does not punish, but He disciplines - and He walks softly with me through my self imposed exile.

That summer I did discipline my girls. I spent hour upon hour stooped over picking rocks with them. And as I did I loved them more than I thought possible. Ironically they were unable to see my love, for the most part, they saw only the rocks in front of them. Yet, together we persevered, and on the last day, one girl - the hardest heart of all - came to me angry, with her fists flailing dangerously close to my head, and in an outburst of past hurt and tears she told me she loved me too. The sweetness of the moment, still moves my heart - because she was precious to me.

And as I consider that I realize in my moments outside the Garden of Eden, perhaps I am more precious to God than I can understand - in my past hurts and tears, in my ignorance and disobedience, with my fists flailing in childish exasperation I desperately cry out that I love HIM. I am just not always sure what that means, or what that looks like. I am certain, however, regardless of whether I wander the desert or kneel before His throne, He will discipline me with a deep, deep love.

The Question of the Still, Small Voice....

2007-11-18T11:36:00.000-08:00

I am not a strong person - I am actually quite weak. There are times and places in life when frailty is good, when you watch the leaves of fall quietly surrender and in their genteel nature flutter softly to the ground. When you see the tears creep in the corners of a father's eyes as his little girl dances her first ballet recital. The weakness in the shaking hand that finally extends itself towards the awaiting embrace of help. These are good weakness.

Then there is weakness that hurts more than offers beauty or healing. It is this weakness that I see in myself - the weakness of a bulimic who fights, kicking and screaming not to become the girl she was 5 years ago, because if she does she knows she may never come back the same way again. The weakness of the shackled man who has bound his entire body with the power of money and greed. The weakness of the proud who hold their heads so high they are completely unable to see those they trample upon.

It is because of these (and many more) weaknesses that I have felt the need to flee, always consoling myself that if I find a way to live away from home, I too can live away from these weakness. If I dedicate myself to another country I can avoid the traps I fall into here. And I am willing to go! I will go! Take me!

And yet...I have been plagued with the soft prodding of this question: What if you are called to North America?

WHAT! Surely I am not called here, there are countless reasons why I am not called to be here. I am willing to go - Now, I do not think everyone is called to live in another country, but I do think think there are many people living in this country who should be answer their soft prodding question of, What if you are called to Pakistan? India? Russia? Japan? Guatemala? And I wonder to myself I am willing to go...why would I be called here and why would I stay if people who are called there and are not willing to go....

And yet I wrestle with the soft persistence of that question.

Please do not automatically assume, because of this post I will not fulfill what I have committed to for this next portion of my life - I am just.... I am just wondering. And praying.

And hoping that you, the few who are reading this will open the ears of your heart and begin struggle with the very question that the still, small voice may be asking of you ....

Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued,is always beyond our grasp, but, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.

2007-11-15T13:44:00.000-08:00

Nathaniel Hawthorne

(Cheezy? Perhpas. Hallmark Material? I suppose....but Mr. Hawthorne is an intelligent wordsmith like no other...)

'OhGodOhGodOhGod'

2007-10-29T10:24:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had a new experience. I drove through the mountains from Banff to Abbotsford, by myself, with only a voice reading Philip Yancey's book on prayer to keep me company. It was quite an amazing 10 hours. I left a brisk autumn Banff morning,the sun was shinning, the ground was brown and the air was vibrant. The mountains were so closely leaning over the road I could feel their breath on my car. Two hours into my drive the mountains disappeared, snow and fog had stolen them from my sight and I drove on, only able to see the car in front of me and the mysterious winter around me . In a few hours I passed through winter and on to a spring, so to speak, here I was met with pelting rain, the return of the jagged mountains and emerald lakes. This took me into a certain summer, filled with sunshine and intriguing valleys that finally led me to the Chiliwack river whose mountainous treescape shared their evening rain with me until I arrived here in Abbotsford.

Quite the trip. During this drive I thought about a great many of things, I listened to the voice from the CD sharing Yancey's thoughts on prayer and considered my own thoughts on prayer. Somewhere along the trip, the words of Yancey's book made me think of a conversation I had had with a friend not too long ago. She was commenting on prayer language. She had noticed that everyone who prays semi-regularly seems to revert back to favourite phrases, praises and pleas. Between them and God there exists a unique dialect of commonly spoken words. And I wondered; what is my dialect, what are my beautiful words?

And it struck me, more than any other prayer God receives from my heart is the 'Oh God.' prayer. But it is more like 'OhGodOhGodOhGod.' This is the prayer I often pray at night. Nearly every night I lie in my warm bed, covered by a cozy quilt and my mind takes me back to wander the streets of East Hastings in Vancouver, the North End of Winnipeg, the alleys of Regina and other dark places my heart has seen. And I curl myself into a ball and the only words of prayer that can spill out of my mouth are 'OhGodOhGodOhGod.'

This is also the prayer I unconsciously pray in dire situations. A few summers ago I can remember driving (way too fast) down a gravel road in the middle of the Southern Saskatchewan prairies, only to feel the rear end of my car start to fishtail. Soon I was being flicked from one side of the gravel road to the other and what prayer fell out of my mouth? Yes, the 'OhGodOhGodOhGod' prayer made another appearance...

Countless times I have prayed this prayer, when holding a wailing friend whom I can do nothing physically to help, God receives an 'OhGodOhGodOhGod' prayer on their behalf. The prairie sunset, the mountain stream view, the new born baby all of these wonders invoke in me a loss of words and I simply pray the 'Oh God' prayer.

I have to admit this is not the beautiful dialect of prayer I was hoping to discover. There is no poetry or rhythm to these prayers. Upon first glance they lack the maturity that should be evident in prayer. Or do they? They are simple. They are not over dressed. They are always heartfelt. They are childish. And it softly occurred to me as I breathed those familiar words yet another time as my car rounded a mountain to take in another glorious view, that my prayer dialect is probably the most honest thing about me, and that honesty is what makes it beautiful.

Rain, Lint & Thanksgiving

2007-10-07T20:16:00.000-07:00

I am not sure what to write to you right now, I am not sure that you exist and therefore I feel in some ways my indecision about content is wasted. Most times I take great comfort in writing into the internet's abyss today, however I crave a responsive smile, good coffee and a solid embrace.

Perhaps I should put my mood in context, I am in BC. It is raining. It always seems to be raining - which I like. I have jazz music playing, which I also like. In front of me is a creamy cup of hot chocolate, ok a now empty cup, also something I like... and I find myself staring into nothing, watching lint floating from nowhere to nowhere, wondering how much of that lint falls upon me without my consent.

Today is Thanksgiving Sunday - the day of my family's celebration. Today is the day where my sister and I would usually find a quiet moment of indigestion and slip off in a beat up truck. She would drive like a maniac through stubble fields, windows rolled down and heater cranked up because I can't handle the cold. I will have stolen my brother's favourite jean quilt, which always upsets him. I would be wrapped in that quilt, sitting beside my little sister as she whips us through golden fields which now resemble a military haircut, because harvest is finished and the long stalks of grain have be taken. I would lean back, flip through my journal, twirl my pen and imagine what words I might transfer from my brain to those pages.

We would return, much to Gramma's relief, alive....completely wind blown, I would sneak some extra sugar to my entertainingly rowdy little cousins and sit and have a good cup of my mom's coffee. Letting family chat swirl around me, smelling harvest on my own skin and still considering the string of words that I never did write down....my sister would anxiously flounce about- while my father, brother and I would make a concentrated effort to get a rise out of Gramma. My aunt would laugh loudly and my uncle would smile quietly taking in the sound of her voice. My tiny sister in law would eat more food than humanly possible arming everyone with jokes about how someone so small could consume so much and never gain an ounce. My great aunt and uncle would quietly take in the expressions of their family because their hearing has long since left them and I would enjoy dancing about the kitchen with and around my mom - refilling wine glasses and coffee cups. The house would be hot, but few would notice...and I would soak in Thanksgiving.

I am not complaining. I am not even terribly sad. I am seeing the present and the past in one glance. I can smell wheat fields and yet when I look out my window I see streaks of Abbotsford rain. Perhaps I am looking into the future and accepting it will be filled with vivid memories combined with foreign sights and sounds...I don't necessarily need to have the past in my present. What do I need?

hmmmm, like I said a smile, a coffee and an embrace...

2007-10-01T15:46:00.000-07:00

Today the sky cried...

2007-09-18T11:23:00.000-07:00

Today the sky cried and so did I. This morning I walked out side to see an emotional horizon, grey and sentimental the sky above me slowly squeezed out one tear drop after another. I couldn't help but to join the drizzle.

I have been plagued with questions of self lately: Why am I here? Why am I discontent? Who exactly do I think I am? So often I feel like I am attempting to walk between two lives. The life of Christ, following Him, being obedient to Him alone. And the life of self. And, in my attempt to walk in between two lives, I have a forboding sense of loosing them both.

If I lost Jesus, I would die. I would cease to function, but my home, my old life and old dreams - they cling to me and I to them. The position of in between, in my tear filled eyes is the ultimate betrayal of both worlds. And as I sat miserably contemplating my hearts unfaithfulness I prayed words from Psalm 25:

"Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted..."

And Jesus answered me, what words did He have for me, His traitorous follower?

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness"(II Cor. 12:9).

I don't understand grace - and I feel that I may never understand grace. So often I have looked at this verse, heard Paul's pleading words and assumed that this grace was limited to a 'thorn in the side' inflicted by the outside world - not a self inflicted thorn of weakness. I am the very thorn that inflicts me - I am sinful and selfish and utterly ruined. And yet, my God says to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness." And Lord I am weak.

I am not sure how to wrap my brain around this; the very thorn that weakens me, my weak humaness makes God's power perfect. His Grace is beyond sufficient, it is extravagant. And as I process this, I continue to to slowly drizzle with my companion, the sky...we comfort one another as we let our tears fall on the world around us - it seems tears must fall so growth may continue...

Every Good and Perfect Gift

2007-09-10T22:25:00.000-07:00

Today I sit and I write fully realizing this blog is completely off the radar - and I am ok with that. I will send my words into the vacuum of cyber space and cherish the catharsis.

One time I wrote that I wished I could have a space in my life that was like a deep, cup of tea. A time for reflection. A time for conversation. A time free of busyness. What a gift that would be? It sounds so perfect doesn't it? And yet whenever the opportunity arrose I would run from it. I would run from my cup of tea. I think because I knew that once I began to partake I would fall apart - and I do not fall apart well. As soon as the warmth of the cup was brought my lips I knew a drastic outpouring of emotion would result.

And if you look at my life - I have done a wonderful job of avoiding such times of refreshment and comfort. No tea for me - I have run from one demanding place to the other avoiding the tea. And with the multple layers and colours of this past summer in my wake I knew there was no way I could emotionally handle slowing down for that space, for that time, for that deep, cup of tea.

Yet, God and I often differ in our opinions and He has handed me the very thing I have been avoiding. Currently I am in a place where my resposibilities have been whittled down to a fraction of what they once were. And my time and attention have opened themselves up to the space God is calling me to.

And - today I finally caved. I took hold of the cup of tea God has offered me. I am entering this a time of richness. A time of warmth. A time of strong scents and smooth taste. A time of greiving. A time of prayer. A time of reflecting and self examination. A time of healing. A time of depth. A hard time - but a caring gift offered to me by my Father.

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights who does not change...(James 1:17a)

Every good and perfect gift - even the hard ones....amen.

I don't think I knew what I was getting into....

2006-12-28T10:21:00.000-08:00

I am becoming increasingly more aware that I was totally clueless as to what I was getting into when I was 8 years old and innocently made the decision not to go to hell. I sat on the scratchy floor of an old camp cabin and prayed that Jesus would save me from hell - now I will admit that knowing Christ is so much more to me now, than simply not going to hell (though I have to say I'm ok with that part too).

But, what did I get myself into.

I once heard someone say that Christ was wrecking his life.

Christ is not someone who comes into your life and smoothes over the bumps and potholes that frustrate us and cause us to fall. He opens our eyes and hearts so we can see so many more pot holes and our hearts so we can cry when we helplessly watch others stumble amoungst them ~ with their Eyes closed.

And we can't exactly walk away from what Christ does to our souls. Once we have made Him a part of us we are marked...transformed. We can squint away our vision until we return to our darkness, but it is forced because we now know the light.

I don't think I am doing it right. Have you ever thought that? I mean I am walking sometimes eyes open - more times eyes squinted shut. But I am walking on this road and I realize...or re-realize that Christ wants me. All of me. Everything. Open your eyes all they way child because Christ wants all of me.

And I ask myself (not for the first time) what the heck does that exactly look like?

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

Does this include me giving - fully giving all my burdens to Christ. I rather like holding on to them and keeping myself up until the wee hours in the morning as I wrestle with them...

Unless the LORD builds the house,
its builders labor in vain.
Unless the LORD watches over the city,
the watchmen stand guard in vain.
In vain you rise early
and stay up late,
toiling for food to eat--
for he grants sleep to those he loves.

Right now my heart is wrestling...I am in the house of the Lord building and watching, but unless I give everything...everything to God it is in vain. Is my half sacrificial life lived in vain....

Quite a big thought to wrestle with...like I said the eight year old in me never saw this coming....

Ok Intellectuals - What are your thots?

2006-11-29T22:49:00.000-08:00

"The matter is quite simple. The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand, we are obliged to act accordingly. Take any words in the New Testament and forget everything except pledging yourself to act accordingly. My God, you will say, if I do that my whole life will be ruined. How could I ever get on in the world? Herein lies the real place of Christian scholarship. Christian scholarship is the Church's prodigious invention to defend itself against the Bible, to ensure that we can continue to be good Christians without the Bible coming to close. Oh, priceless scholarship, what would we do without you? Dreadful it is to fall into the hands of the living God. Yes, it is even dreadful to be alone with the New Testament."

-Soren Kierkegaard

Um...We'll Call This - Sermon Block

2006-11-23T12:23:00.000-08:00

Yup. I have Sermon Block. Sermon Block is characterised by me sitting in my little office with the very green, patio carpet. Eating so many smarties that my stomach is aching but I can't stop colour coding and munching...And I turn every thot that comes through my brain into a catchy little diddy...all sung to the tune of 'Spider man, Spiderman, does whatever a spider can.'

Ok, so maybe I should get out more.

This coming Sunday is the 1st Sunday of Advent! (Yes, that deserves an exclamation point). A time to remind ourselves of the deep anticipation each of us has within. I think I am going to talk about the hope of Mary. Mary the Mother of Christ... now, there was a 14 year old girl who had serious faith. I admire that. She knew the trueness of hope...ok maybe my sermon isn't as blocked as my spiderman diddys may lead one to believe.

I just feel...I don't know. Pent up. (This could be the smarties talking).

I have passion.
Deep passion.
I am just wondering what it really looks like.

Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed - not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence - contiunue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose.

A guy named Paul wrote that to a bunch of people living in a city call Philippi. I like it.

To work out my salvation with fear and trembling. With awe, joy and reverence. With pure wonder.

God, who works in me to will and act according to His good purpose. God who works on my passion and actions. God who will use such a weak person for His glory.

Ok - so in summation...I am trying to say that I might be focusing on things that aren't my passions for the sake of passionate discussion. And ultimately above all I need to be strive towards God with fear and trembling.

So essentially nothing concrete was expressed here - just some non practical jargon. (I am a pastor aren't I....).

In my defence Smarties contain both sugar and gluten. (And why isn't Sugar spelled with an 'h'...SHUGAR...? Just wondering).

I apologise for the consistent stream of rubbish that is expelled into cyberspace as a result of this blog.

The Defiance of That Which Glows...

2006-11-14T10:48:00.000-08:00

Last night was the blackest night I have seen in a long time. It was so dark that I felt as I was standing underneath it its blackness slowly inked my skin. Nothing around me was left untouched by its deep colour.

And as I looked up into the depths of it, accompanied only by the lone black tree at my side - I was again brougt to a state of breathlessness. My searching eyes found that far beyond the darkness gleamed small gems. Gems untouched, uninked, undarkened. In complete defiance they glowed in the utter darkness. The velvety softness of night couldn't touch them.

Draw whatever symbolism from it that you will. But when I woke in the morning I found myself wishing that I was still standing under that deep night and watching that soft rebellion of light.

God is Holy.

Everyday, I find Him reminding me of that.

God is Holy.

Today I am going on a date with God. I am going to my favourite coffee shop. I am going to sit with my Bible and journal and tell Him I what I saw in His creation last night. I will tell Him how much I treasure Him and how unworthy I am of Him. I will revel in His love and above all I will hold on to that acute awareness that God is Holy.

Thursday

2006-11-09T21:21:00.000-08:00

Tonight was wonderful.

Initially when I took this job I made myself four promises.
Promise 1: I must take at least one day off a week.
Promise 2: I will be more committed to practicing the spiritual discipline of silence.
Promise 3: I will take every opportunity to live in joy and laughter.
Promise 4: I will continually look for new expereinces.

Well, Promises 1 & 2 have been difficult to maintain. (Ok so I haven't practiced silence at all this fall....but I will). But Promises 3 & 4 have been really good for my heart.

For instance this Tuesday I learned how to shoot a 22. Now, I am not sure exactly what I will do with this new found knowledge, as I am too much of a wuss to kill anything. I did however, feel rather tough as I lugged my gun accross the feild to shoot at my wooden target. (...'lugged my gun' - never thought I would use those words in a sentance).

And then to night, this Thursday night found my self in another new and joyful situation. I sat at a table with four men playing poker. Oh, yes - I put my five bucks into the pot and lost every penny. They each had their beers, I had my diet pepsi. They talked about hunting, I talked about Youth Group. Life was good.

And initally so was I, apparently four of a kind and the wide eyes of a girl playing dumb pays pretty well! I really had fun...a new expereince but I think I'll add it to my list of good expereinces.

I suppose the moral for my day is simply - Jesus brings us joy in the weirdest ways. I don't deserve it. I don't know my heart like I should. I don't know Jesus' heart like I should. I am not the person I want to be or should be... But He still chooses to bring me joy.

...an emotional grit publisher...

2006-10-31T12:16:00.000-08:00

I am feeling honest.

I had a friend tell me once that was why she hated blogs. People put so much of their lives 'out there' - all the emotional grit of life published for the curious world to stare at.

I think I may be an emotional grit publisher. Which I think, is a big step for me. I made a promise to God once; that if He would give me my tears back I would start being real. I have tears now, a pure gift from my Father - but the reality, that is something I still lack so much of.

I have moments where I am real - and honestly I try to be real. But for some reason people do not seem to notice my genuine attempts. They see the Erica they want to see - not the Erica who is. Sometimes I feel like the Erica they want to see, needs to be seen, or maybe one day they will realize I am not who they think I am. I don't want to be.

One day - things are going to come crashing down and all that will be left standing there is me. I both long for and dread that day.

I am lost is a place that remembers who I was and has created who I am. But refuses to acknowledge the growth and dirt of me in my trueness.

That same friend and I were talking in the same conversation about being known. I want to be known. And loved in spite of who I am.

And now more than ever I want the willingness to know people for who they are and love them...

Prayers and Peeling Paint

2006-10-26T20:59:00.000-07:00

I did it. You know I swore up and down that I wouldn't but I did. I took 'the' job. You know the one I said I absolutely, would not take. Yup - I've had that job or 2 months now.

I am working as an Interim Pastor in my home church. Now just to give you an idea of the Crane Valley/Ormiston area I want you to picture the smallest town you can imagine. Got it? Ok - now divide it in half. And now do it again...there you have it!

And to be honest I rather enjoy it. I never thought I would. But I do. I suppose I have so much love for my church family that enjoyment in natural.

And I am also learning much about prayer. In honesty - I am not the prayer warrior that sentence might lead you to believe. But I am beginning to understand more and more of the power that is in prayer and the responsibility I have to pray. Because my prayer has power to change lives through the victory of Christ. I must do everything within my power to change those lives - thus pray.

And while prayer requires great persistence which is so far beyond my mental grasp ~ it reminds me of peeling paint. Or rust. Peeling paint if left unwatched or unnoticed can, over time, cause an entire building to collapse. Rust can, over time, render and entire autmobile useless.

I have decided my prayers are like peeling paint or rust. I am a small insignificant person - and I hope that Satan overlooks my prayers because I plan to take down skyscrapers!

Right now I pray for long awaited revival to come out of my sleeping church and light up my shrinking town. I pray for long awaited revival ~ and if I see the results I will praise God. And if I have to persist without having my eyes opened to the results I will praise God.

(or I will try...this is a learning process remember...)

...You should probably disregard this...

2006-10-06T21:19:00.000-07:00

Ummm.... much has happened in the last little while. And while I could fill you in on the great mystery my life has become, even to myself. I would rather start mid-rant. No rant is too strong - mid medicated thot. (Thats better).

I am currently sitting on my parents' couch, by myself - drinking orange juice that strangely smells like ham. Heartily medicated with pain killers as I recover in a state of post-op. (It really is nothing in get in a huff about, minor surgery - but man is recovery a waste of time!). And I got to thinking....

Never a good thing when pain killers are near by. There are people in this world who can attest to my basket case-esque behaviour when I am perscribed anything stronger than Advil.

And as I am sitting here watching this horribly immoral show that I love called Grey's Anatomy, relating to the poor misguided George who I am more like than I care to admit. I turn to my couch mate - my mom's terribly mean little dog - and wonder why she hasn't taken advantage of my weak state and attacked...when I begin to crave icecream. Good icecream - that kind of icecream that costs way too much to come in the small size in which is comes in.

You know the mini break up bucket...or the I got fired bucket...

Every single female knows what I am talking about. Ben and Jerry are rich because they understand women.

Anyway, I thinking about this and I start to miss all of my Ben and Jerry friends... you know who you are. Those friends who don't need to knock. They can come in plop down in front of you, hand you a spoon and you feel loved.

I just wanted to say that I miss you guys...
(and I'll probably delete this once the codine wears off....)

All and all this should probably be disregarded. I may fill you in on the actual state of affairs later this month.

So, uh, how was Japan?

2006-09-02T22:21:00.000-07:00

It is 11:30 at night and I am supposed to be doing something productive. And trust me there are many productive things I could be doing...laundry being at the top of the list. But, what I really, really need to be doing is preparing my 10 min time slot for tomorrow's church service.

In this slot I need to answer the question...'So,uh, how was Japan?' So I sit myself down with a new pen and some paper and then...... And then I blank. I think it would be easier for me to answer the question 'So, how was God?' Japan was Japanese...but God was amazing. Japan was beautiful...but God was present. The people in Japan touched my heart....but God - oh, God did serious damage to my stubborn heart.

I learned alot in Japan, but one lesson or realization stands above the rest. Perhaps it is the theme that the other lessons rest upon. Salvation. Pretty basic - But SALAVATION!

I learned how truly precious and wonderful salvation is. I have salvation. I have been saved. I have expereinced Christ. The Holy Spirit dwells in me. These are not the chapters of another trendy book on how to live Christianity successfully (which I will share my opinion on another day). This is true to life - we live in this joy.

And until Japan, I had forgotten that joy - or maybe I was too consumed with life to have ever stopped to revel in it. But in this country an entire ocean away I watched people. Million upon millions of people, living completely unware of what they were missing. Unaware of the most important gift they will ever encounter in the entire span of their life...unware that salvation was waiting for them.

Salvation from death.
Salvation from darkness.
Salvation from purposelessness.
Salvation through Christ.

Savlation now burns within me. The awareness of salvation rolls around inside of me. I am aware more than ever before in my entire life that the world needs an opportunity to accept this treasure - just like I have been given such an opportunity.

And where do I start Japan, Turkey, Tibet.... 3rd Ave NE, Moose Jaw? Today I choose to live a life marked by salvation - may God use it for His Glory.

So, uh, how was Japan? - Good.

How was God? - Words cannot even begin to describe....

Mesu Soup, Fish and Rice

2006-07-19T16:06:00.000-07:00

Mesu Soup, fish and rice anyone? That was my breakfast this morning and I have to say the more I eat it the more I enjoy it. Though in all honesty the first time I sat down at the table and saw a fish the length of my index finger looking back at me I was a little concnerned - however this cruchy little delight is packed full of iron and really quite tasty.

Well, my team and I have hit the one week mark here in Japan and we show no signs of slowing down. It is so surprising to me how much this country needs the gospel. I suppose I am so used being in a country that has some basic understanding of Christianity. Here, there is no base. Nothing but pure facination in a lot of cases and a devotion to ones own tradition. The challege is to present the truth the ONE true God and do that without relying on any past knowledge of Jesus or sin. I am constantly being reminding how much hope I have and the pure unretrained joy of actually having Jesus as my Lord and Savior!

There is one woman who is quite close to my heart right now, for some reason she loves our team and has come to every event we have done. She comes to learn english but usually by the end of our time has asked me some question about religion or my Jesus. Please pray! We also all really care about our host families (all non christian). We want them to be impacted by Christ through us - we want them to know freedom...

God has great things in store for the people of Japan, I just know it. Please joy me in praying for a state of spiritual transformation.

The Holy Spirit is at work.

Japan...

2006-07-09T13:32:00.000-07:00

Hello to those few and faithful who read this blog,

I am just checking out for a while - this coming wednesday @5:00 I begin my journey to Japan. I am going with an MBMS Internation ACTION team and we are gone until August 12. Please keep us in your prayers ( and I mean that, don't just read this and then forget to pray!).

God is powerful, Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior and the Holy Spirit is moving. I am excited to go where I will be given a chance to see God moving in a new way and in a new culture. I am excited to have the Spirit working my heart over as we speak. This training session has been really a time of sincere change for me - at the deepest levels.

I know this post is really quited disjointed but my internet time is ticking.

Thanks for praying

How Great is our God

2006-06-27T08:35:00.000-07:00

I will exalt you, my God the king;
I will praise your name forever and ever.
Everyday I will praise you and extol your name forever and ever.
Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise;
his greatness no one can fathom. Psalm 145:1-3

This weekend I observed something that brought tears to my eyes; a widow who had spent the last year battling with her husband as he fought cancer raising her heart in worship at his funeral.

God is greater. That is what her action spoke of so loudly, God is greater. It is strange how I lose focus of the greatness of God. He is GREAT, VAST and ALL POWERFUL, in our deaths and in our lives God is greater. We are part of His great plan not the other way around.

I know this is not a revelation of great wisdom, as my thoughts seldom are but it is a thought of continuing impact on my heart. A woman whose beloved has passed on, whose teen children are mourning, whose life has been permanently altered raises her hands in surrender and worship. Because God is greater.

This puts everything into perspective, all things fall short of God's greatness and therefore our worship of God's greatness should be placed at the highest level of importance in our lives. Everything else, all the worries and stresses of life, is secondary. Worship is primary.

How Great is our God.

Glass

2006-06-14T16:33:00.000-07:00

There is glass in this world.
You can't see the glass until you run into it - your's or someone else's.
And when you do - when you run into it like a child roaring into the kitchen from the yard for some icecream only to find the patio door is closed and you did not stop-
It hurts.
You and the glass...both hurt.
You smart with embarrassment that people are laughing and fussing...
all you really wanted was icecream.
It was hot and you were filled with the blinding joy of icecream.
And the glass vibrates and smudges.
Do not smudge my glass - it is clean and perfect - Do not smudge my glass
If you do they will notice
They will look closer - And if they look they will see
They will see beyond the glass into my messiness.
You slide down the glass with a thud - thinking that you didn't know, didn't care about the glass....
You cared deeper - you were thrilled by the possibilities that were inside.
Thrilled by the wonder: Chocolate, Vanilla - gasp Neapolitan!
And now, you, and by you I mean I, maintain the glass - protect it.
Forgetting the loss of joy or the embarassment that the glass causes ...
You, and I mean I, no longer run with glorious abandon into mystery
You wait and walk away ...
Or maybe you peer in when no one is looking.
I say rip open the door and suffer the consequences!
You, I mean I, will fight the war of the glass in this world.
Fight the windex people and let the world see your stuff....
Ok -
Maybe just a crack...
But you, I mean you, have a better chance of getting inside if my glass is open just a crack rather than sealed tight...
Right?
And I will open your glass door which you have cracked...
And then maybe we can stop washing our windows.

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head and soon my eyes will be turning red...falalala la la la la la la

2006-06-09T13:13:00.000-07:00

It is raining today. It rained yesterday and will most likely rain tomorrow. I like this whole rainy experience. Though this weather tends to make me not want to work. There is something about a soft persistent rain that makes me want to make a cup of strong coffee, light a fire and just be. I love how rain gives you such a soft chill that you appreciate the joy of warmth so much more. Or how people slow down and huddle together - I love watching people right before the walk out the door. They all seem to move towards one another, strangers and friends alike, share a last moment of warmth before they all dash to their cars.

I especially like rain in Saskatchewan. I like that our drainage systems are less than perfect leaving lots of puddles for me to jump in on the way home...(Oh, come on like you don't like to hop into the odd puddle) and I like that no one carries umbrellas. It makes things a little more soggy and shows us the beauty of dripping imperfection.

So I am sitting here watching the rain - thinking about how tempting a nap would be. And at the same time stressing about things that don't need to be stressed about. See the rain helps me realize this - (don't ask me how).

I am preparing to leave. Leave a group of Youth who I love. A church that I love and a job that for some inconceivable reason I don't love. It is hard to end things like this, because it is not like anything I have walked away from before. This feels so unfinished.

But I will go - to Japan actually. I am spending 6 six weeks with MBMSI doing the ACTION program hoping that in the midst of it God will give me some direction. And maybe a good place to nap with a view of the rain. (Just a note if you want to help me with support - I'm ok with that...just lemme know....)

I am excited for ACTION though - so excited. Excited to be on a team. Excited to give and grow. Excited to learn and walk with my steps closer matching those of Jesus.

I'm in a nice melancholy mood today, if you find it confusing or annoying blame the rain. But in true honesty I am finding it hard to leave a place that was so hard to stay in. Such an irony.

Apologies for the large view of my face...

2006-05-30T16:08:00.000-07:00

I am computer illiterate to the greatest degree. You may disagree and argue that your great grandmother may be less suave on the computer than me but I beg to differ. I have met a few computer savvy elderly people and they dispel the myth of their computer inabilities. Your grandma knows what she is doing ... as a matter of fact she is probably electronically embezzling money from the world bank as we speak (excuse me, type).

The elderly will be my topic of discussion today. This afternoon we had Friendship Break at the church. Friendship Break is basically a chance for me to brush up on my Dominoes skills, sing some old hymns and lead a devotion with some wonderful elderly people in my church.

Today one of the hymns that was requested was 'Great is Thy Faithfulness' - and as the opening chords began a gradmotherly lady turned to me with a glowing smile and told me she sang this every single morning because God is so good.

I was stunned, I just kind of stared at her with my jaw hanging open because I happen to know that in her life has not been easy. She has been widowed three times, lost children and is in chronic pain due to arthritis . If I were her I don't think I could say that I sing 'Great is Thy Faithfulness' to God every morning. I think I would sing 'Why doth Thou Dispiseth Me' instead.

As a matter of fact, if I am honest, this past month I have been a spiritual state of whining because... well, because I am small in my faith. And this dear woman is so much more mature than I.

But she is right, I need to sing 'Great is Thy Faithfulness' to God every morning because I have never experienced anything other than His goodness.

That and your grandmother hasn't embezzled any money out of my bank account!

2006-05-30T15:54:00.000-07:00

Do I really look that unsettled?

2006-05-17T13:29:00.000-07:00

Ok, would you mind if vented for a moment. (Ofcourse not! You just scooted your chair a bit closer to the screen because everyone loves a little drama).

I just had coffee (fine, diet pepsi) with a friend. A dear friend actually, she kindly asked me of my future plans and I kindly dodged the question. (Which I appear to be quite ept at). Finally after a little prodding I gave her the list. I hate giving the list because I am so completely clueless.

The list is something like this, "Well I could take this job that has been offered to me down there, there are two possible jobs over there, there is no job up there but it remains a possibility or...maybe I'll move to Korea." - (I love the closer because everyone looks at my like I have totally lost my sense of direction, but I am still serious. Its an option).

And my dear friend, who is happily married with three wonderful children and a dog, looked at me sadly and said, "Oh, Erica, you are going to have to settle down and commit to something." - Settle down? Commit? Oh yeah, talk about 2 phrases that make me wanna throw up. Why should I have to settle? Isn't this the time in my life where I shouldn't be settled? Where I should have adventure?

Maybe I am not meant to be settled? Am I really unsettled? Its because I am not married, everyone and their dog wants me married - that would settle me down. I mean I really tried to be the nice 'settled' girl everyone wanted me to be when I took this job. And everyone was so happy that I shook off the wanderlust and found myself in Saskatchewan. But I botched this didn't I? I just didn't feel like I was supposed to be doing this....to be honest I am scared to try any long term ministry because I feel like I don't have staying power.

Unsettled. Is that bad? It seemed bad at the time. I've been in college for the last four years for crying out loud - how unsettled is that? I don't even know why this bugs me. Give me and hour and a good chocolate bar and it won't bug me anymore.

Sigh, I am sorry. I just feel a litte bothered by my lack of direction thats all. You know, being so unsettled by nature.

(deep breath in, deep breath out).

I have now vented - so while I'm off rustling up a little chocolate. You have a good day. And thanks for listening.

Random and Ridiculous

2006-05-09T12:50:00.000-07:00

The other day I met someone who appeared to be beyond the random and ridiculous. I am random and ridiculous, therefore the said person appeared to be beyond me. Far beyond. If one were to accurately describe my thinking patterns it would be, you guessed it, random and ridiculous. I think its a coping mechanism.

For instance, my freshman year of Bible College I made the mistake of enrolling in Concert Choir. Most, people enjoy the entire group choral experience and for that I give them a mighty nod of appreciation, because I enjoy listening to them. I do not enjoy singing with them.

I entered into Concert Choir after being told I was most definitely an Alto. And I thought to myself, 'An alto, I am an alto? Is that some instrument? Do I have to play an alto - I most definitely do not know how to play the Alto...' Needless to say I was off to a rough start which only got rougher. I found the entire Tuesday evening class experience to be painful beyond words.

That is when I began to indulge in random and ridiculous thoughts. You know simple ones. I would often imagine the variety of ways the conductor/instructor could tumble off his podium which he ever so zealously pounced around upon. Oh, how my creativity passed the time and brought a smile to my face. I would like to point out that I am not cruel, as I never wished to see my seed of thoughts reach fruition. I was just entertained by them.

Random and ridiculous thoughts. Its the part of me that still believes in whimsical things. It is my fascination with fireflies (I am still not quite convinced they actually do exist). It is the joy of playing pretend with my little cousins or going for a walk when gigantic snowflakes are falling from heaven. Or jumping in a big puddle when I am walking with my sister because she hates wet feet and I still kinda get a kick out annoying her. Even though we are both adults.

The random and ridiculous are silly things that keep my ping pong brain occupied, it still lets me believe and search for a safe place, a home of sorts for my heart. It makes me wonder what those in this world who do not indulge in such fanciful things think about? Is being beyond wonder and imagination really such a good position to find one's self in?

Perhaps I will let the mighty person be above me - And I will call my sense of wonderment a gift from God. After all it never does any good for me to be above anyone else - The one thing I have no illusions about is my pride!

Just Another Day At Work

2006-05-02T08:27:00.000-07:00

Super Erica - um... Not Quite

2006-04-26T13:07:00.000-07:00

It is not my job to save the world.

I keep telling myself this as I sit in my office chair trying to discover new and exciting ways to spin. (On a side note: it really is a fun chair). You see I am easily worked up - poverty, crime, injustice, Bob Rae becoming a Liberal...

I often lay awake at night upset because I have luxury of both a blanket and a pillow. Am I a petulant, ungrateful child ... Or am I spoiled and should be burdened by the plight of those who are living lives of extreme hardship?

There are children in Thailand who are sold into the sex slave trade with no hope of ever tasting freedom. In Northern Uganda families are being slaughtered by their own youth who were captured and turned into child soldiers for guerilla warfare. People are starving to the point of eating sand just to ease thier hunger pain. Even in Saskatchewan our poverty rate is rising at an alarming pace rivaled only by our declining literacy rate. declining literacy in 2006!

Awareness without action is useless.

And yet at the same time - I am not the savior of the world. I am aware that this isn't rocket science. But I have to learn to trust that God does have a plan for the poor and persecuted. God's plan however in no way relieves us of our responsibility to reach out and care for them I need to re-realize, HE IS THE SAVIOR of the world - physically, spiritually and emotionally - not I.

In the midst of pondering all of this I feel convicted to pray. 'Pray?' I asked God. My respose was, 'Well I would God, but I don't know them personally. And thier hearts and I ... uh.... well - um.... OK - I'll pray."

Awareness without action is useless.

So here is me taking action and starting to pray.

Being Beautiful

2006-04-12T12:18:00.000-07:00

Beauty. Beauty is something that everyone is aware of. It is magnetic, we are drawn to it. And being a woman I think I strive for beauty more that a man would. As a woman I was created to be beautiful because females are created in the image of God to reflect Him uniquely. (Much like men reflect God's image uniquely).

To see God would be to see the culmination of all beauty in the entire universe. Take a moment and imagine the greatness of such beauty!

Yet, as a woman I struggle to see the beauty God has created in me. I not only struggle but am shocked when people see it and tell me about it. (WHAT! Beauty, me?)

There are times, however, when I see it for a moment, it is fleeting and soon forgotten but sometimes if I look quickly I can cat a glimpse of it. And now more than ever God is showing me when I am being beautiful, not looking beautiful.

If God is the ultimate of all things beautiful it would make sense that the closer we are to being godly the more beautiful we become. ahhh, beauty can be so confusing.

Being beautiful is also often misunderstood by us fair females, we exchange being beautiful for doing beautiful. I try to do beautiful all the time, which results in a white washed tomb of a soul and complete exhaustion!

There is so much pressure to do beautiful. Right now my house needs cleaning, there is work waiting for me in the office, I have phone calls to make but I am sitting on my deck waiting for Jesus to come and make me beautiful.

My life right now, at this exact moment has become amazingly simple. As of the end of June I have no job. As of today I have no plan.

And Jesus loves me.

And I feel beautiful.

I am not doing anything - I am just being...

Q-Day

2006-04-02T14:47:00.000-07:00

Will I forget today in the span of eternity? - Yes.

Will I forget today in the span of my life? - Probably not.

Today I officially quit. I have never ever really quit anything in my entire life, well other than my brief attempt to master the guitar in an effort to impress a boy when I was 14.

I believe the term is resigned - but it feels like I quit. I quit with no clear idea where or what God is calling me to. I quit no plan and no money. I quit knowing that by quitting I am hurting those I have begun to love in the last year.

What does this really accomplish? What does anything I do really accomplish? I don't know - other than I am supposed to. (I think). Now, the struggle is on, there is a part in me who wants to just live for all my selfishness. It is so much easier to live within myself.

My soul tears under the weight of guilt and confusion. There is such a large part of my that longs to stop striving and pressing onward. I want to be content in a society that embraces cliches and finds guidance in the gods of the beautiful, rich and famous.

But I can't! The other part of me would hate myself if I could - maybe that part does already.

There is a part in me that longs to look the True and Holy God in the face and not turn away but smile. I want to love and not expect love in return. The part of me that longs hold hands, wipe tears and be 'Jesus'. And rightfully so - as that is the part of me Jesus has changed. It is just so minute compared to the rest of me. Minute and frightening!

What am I supposed to do? I don't know - I am hoping that if I stare into my mug of tea long enough I'll see it.

I think that is what this next year will be, a deep mug of tea. I need to do a few things.

- I need to learn how to pray again.
- I need to discipline my heart so it listens.
- I need to be silent.
- I need to be joyful.
- I need to minister with my being not with my position.
- I need to learn how to love without strings attached.
- I need to learn how to be loved without attaching strings.
- I need to find a hobby.
- I need to take some risks.
- I need courage.
- I need to sleep in the sun and not feel guilty.
- I need to rediscover my passions.
- I need to be a blessing because I have been blessed.
- I need to feed my soul without feeling guilty that I have food for it.
- I need to worry less and do more.
- I need to stop making pretense a priority.
- I need to go skidiving and learn to ride a horse.
- I need to break down my well crafted walls and be real for the first time in my life.
- I need you to pray for me.....

When is doing the right thing not right?

2006-03-27T20:58:00.000-08:00

"Strive not to become a person of success, but rather a person of value"

A new mantra which is helping me stick to my guns right now. God calls us to things - to do things where it may appear to those of the world and even, those of the Christian community to be the most stupid, wussy, unsuccessful choice - but it is the value of the choice that God seeks.

I know this doesn't make any sense, but today I took a huge step backwards - and a huge step forwards at the same time. My stomach is still in knots and I think I have washed away my face with tears but it is something that God is leading me toward.

I just need to remind myself that becoming a godly woman may never line up with what other people have planned or dreamed for me. I need to be ok with them not being ok - and that my friends is not easy for a people pleaser.

This may be nothing more than veiled nonsense to anyone who reads it - but it felt good to write. Thank you for listening.

I am a dreamer ... Am I a dreamer?

2006-03-20T21:28:00.000-08:00

When I was a little girl I loved to ride in the car. I loved to be with my family and just sit with one another. I loved to gaze out the window and let my mind wander and my heart dream. I was so full of dreams that in an unguarded moment you could have probably seen them dancing in my eyes. In my dreams I could do anything. I could be anything - and in the window seat of our ford I believed them, I believed in myself.

I still have dreams you know, that is why I still like riding in cars and will often hand the keys over when given the chance. But I am different now - I will never let my eyes become unguarded and allow you to really see them. I am sorry for that, but it is the truth. They are now my sacred fantasies. Dreams are attainable - fantasies are whimsical nonsense to be pushed aside when reality pulls us out of our stolen moments. That is the adult in me talking. Talking good, strong sense...

I once was briefly mentored by a man who told me dreams are sketches of God's purpose in our lives. No dream is trivial because any true dream was put in us by God. And yet, it is so hard! I have responsibilities, people - things I do affect people and longer I live on this planet the more people I will affect. I can't just stop what I am doing and go run after dreams. Can I? Tell me I can....

I don't know - I am writing this in a state of confusion, a place I find myself in more often than I would like to admit. I am going to go to bed in a few minutes, and tomorrow I will smile and be nice. But in those few minutes between here and there where I find myself in the seat of a car - I will dream my secret dreams. And try to see the line between a dream and a fantasy -

"I drink enough of this stuff to deserve a RAV4 and they can't even give me a freakin' cookie!"

2006-03-14T15:06:00.000-08:00

I think I have a problem. (Now to some of you this may not come as a surprise but more as stating the obvious) - However, this morning I had to face the truth, I have an addiction to Rolling up the Rim. At 9:17, when I rolled up my rim to find another irritatingly polite shut down 'Please Play Again' - I couldn't take it anymore; the constant rejection got to me and I literally shouted 'I drink enough of this stuff to deserve a RAV4 and they can't even give me a freakin' cookie.'

Now it never occurred to me that I was causing a great amount of a commotion until I turned to see Pastor Barry, our senior Pastor and Donna our secretary peering cautiously towards my open door. (Note to self if ever feel the need to shout in utter desperation and frustration - shut office door). I just need a RAV4, I would graciously take the $1000, but lets be honest I'm in it for the vehicle.

That is how twistedly selfish I am - forget that in a month my daily (now 3 time daily coffees) could support the health and education of a child for an entire month - possibly two. OK three! I need a RAV4 - sometimes I disgust myself.

Aside from that self-realization I preached on Sunday. Preaching always humbles me to the lowest level - I guess that is one of the reason I love it so much. I preached on the importance of scheduling our lives around the priority of God and His desires for us, rather than simply scheduling Him in. It was good but I need to seriously re-evaluate my time. Preaching teaches me one thing - I am a walking talking hypocrite. But I am aware of it, does that count for something?

It's nice to a have God give us reality checks...Usually I need a reality beating but hey, each to their own.

A Sunshine Day

2006-03-02T16:04:00.000-08:00

Today was wonderful! Truly - I took the afternoon and spent it with one of my most favourite people in the entire world! My little Sister....awwww. It was so good just to take some time to laugh and dance in walmart.

Adrienne, my sister and I were tourists today. We took corny pictures of ourselves (as seen above), ate at a cute, over-priced tea house, went boutique shopping and talked each other into spending more money than we had.

This last little while I have been stressed out in everyway and I have forgotten how much joy can come from singing in the car to a song you don't know or jumping in puddles.

To further my point, today as we were walking we came across a little boy, who I'll call Earl. Earl was about 4 years old and was walking with his toque over his eyes, singing to himself and from just below the rim of that helmet of a hat was watching his feet squish the slush. Earl knew how to have a good time.

My new goal is to be more like Earl, excuse me while I go and buy myself a toque.

More Randomness - What Else is New

2006-02-27T21:01:00.000-08:00

Confession time:

1. I sneeze funny, at least this is what I have been told.

2. I love Cadbury Cream Eggs, deeply - actually in the last month I have consumed more of these little gems than I care to count.

3. I hate cotton balls, cotton balls to me is equivalent to nails on chalk boards
to others

4. I am a fraudulent baker - this one I must explain, often working with the
church I do visitations and being a small town girl at heart I feel the need to bring baking. I however, do not have a lot of time to bake so... I go to grocery store, buy baked goods, take them home put them on one of my plates,Saran wrap them and give them away. I never claim that I have made them, but the illusion is comforting.

5. My room mate is hot! For all you men out there, she is quite the catch! If you are interested you can let me know or check out GTBC, she is the Director. She is also sitting right here and therefore I need put a plug in for her!

I love to be dumb! I feel it is a gift of mine - dumb-ness. Not really something that is widely accepted on job applications though....

Today in all my randomness I was thinking about passion. I am working on a sermon entitled 'God is worthy of our passion.' And He is! He is worthy of so much more than that but the least we can give Him is our passion.

As I have been writing this I have been searching for passion in others. In conversation I look into their eyes to see if it is dancing below the surface. I watch their actions to see if they are being fueled by passion. And then I looked to myself to see if I was living with passion. I have always promised myself I would never, never live without passion. And yet I still have not found the major outlet to unleash the passion that lives in me.

Sometimes I wish that I had skills that would be a natural expression of this God honouring passion. I have some wonderful friends who are so gifted in music. Their passion is music and their thoughts and dreams are mingled with note and rhythm. It isn't a search - its and unavoidable fact. Their passion is their music.

Or, my sister. My sister is to me a beautiful artist, she see things in colours and textures that I don't understand. If I could see the world with her mind's eye my concept of beauty would be taken to an entirely new level.

I have a friend who has a heart that bleeds for those in poverty. Or another friend who is so charismatic that you cannot help to love and feel blessed by her. Or my silent servant friend who so effortless sees the needs of others before they are apparent and tends to those needs without being asked.

These are people who I watch and admire their passion. I watch them and feel affirmed that God has given us passion to bring Him glory. I suppose my passion is to see everyone find their way of expression for passion. Think of what I different world we have if people stopped surviving and started living with their passions!

From Mustache Smiles to the Wise Thots of Wise Men

2006-02-21T07:33:00.000-08:00

I find joy in little things, perhaps this is a testament to the small size of my brain. Yesterday was a wonderfully complex day for my little brain - you see it was my day off. A day where I walked and talked to God, actually He talked and I tried to ignore Him.

During that time I was nearly run over, quite honestly. And I am now convinced that being run over would not be that bad...It would happen quickly - currently my opinion is more that I would dislike the recovery of the accident rather than the accident itself.

It was in this near splat experience that my gaze shot to the driver and he shrugged his shoulders and his mustache smiled at me. I loved it - immediately because of the mustache smile my heart forgave him and smiled back...

Yesterday was also a day where two wise thoughts by two wise men rattled my core:

Woe to those weak and timid souls
Who are divided between God and their world!
They want and they do not want
They are torn by desire and remorse at the same time...
They have a horror of evil and a shame of good.
They have the pains of virtue with out tasting it's sweet consolation.
O How wretched they are.
-Francios Fenelon

A damned soul is nearly nothing: it is shrunk,
Shut up in itself.
Good beats upon the damned incessantly
As sound waves beat on the ears of the deaf,
But they cannot receive it. Their fists are clenched,
Their eyes fast shut.
First they will not, in the end they cannot,
open their hands for gifts or their mouths for food,
or their eyes to see.
- C.S. Lewis

I am in an interesting place, and these words convict and convince me something inside of me must change. More accurately something inside of me needs to be changed. And as I pray for a metamorphosis, I will allow my little brain to be enthralled by the mustache smiles and overwhelmed by the wise thots of wise men.

The This and The That

2006-02-07T14:29:00.000-08:00

I have been blog stalking again...

I know where is my self discipline, but I was doing the - 'this is my friend so I will see how she is doing' And then I wandered into the great jackpot of all links. Some of you blog people have alot of friends....

I am bored...I'm not really. I have scheduled some gym time into my day. (For those of you who just gasped and clutched their hearts in shock, welcome back). But I don't really, really want to go. (There is the Erica you know and love). I will though (GASP!) It is the best way to break up a freakin' thirteen hour day.

Did I just say freakin' - I mean lovely or invigorating...(No, I mean freakin'). In all honesty I have had a good day, I spent the last two hours playing dominos ( which is surprising more structured than setting them up and knocking them down) and I gave a devotional for the seniors in my church. ( 'sigh' I love seniors)

I should stop typing...it's really just drivol (drivoll is a new and wonderful word for me...I am reading a book by a british author and she says drivoll all the time...though I am not sure if she spells it with one 'l' or 2 'l's. Anyway, I am easily influenced).

I shall move on...and write something of substance another day. Like how I really am not bitter towards the general population of men in this world. ( That is a topic based on an observation of Dana B. and will be addressed at another time)

Deep in side I have this hope of one day writing something that is wonderful. Wonderful to read...gritty, or beautiful, or with depth or or I dunno. (Rest assured today is not that day...). Whether that hope with ever find fulfillment I don't know...actually I almost never verbalize that hope.....

Hmmm.... who knew blogging would turn into closet confessionals.

I should go I ramble.

The Pasta Scum of Youth Ministry

2006-02-01T14:47:00.000-08:00

Youth Ministry includes a huge amount of office time.

Or maybe I am doing it wrong.

All I know is the office and I spend way to much time together and sometimes I wonder what-the? And why?

And then I remember I really love my youth...the office time is kinda like the scum left in the pot after you cook pasta. You never really expected to be there - but there it is. It's not bad per say but it is definitely not enjoyable. Yet, it becomes a necessary part of the pasta cooking and consuming process.

I spent too many hours in the office to day (pasta scum) but tonight I teach a bible study and tomorrow I take one of my kids for lunch and get to hang out with them (ahhh - pasta!)

It Unraveled and I was frazzled

2006-01-29T11:28:00.000-08:00

I am writing this post recalling information from my last post. You see in my last entry I very smugly observed the male tendency to avoid anything female and emotional. Their fear of the frazzled woman entertained me and I chose to share it with the masses. (And by masses I mean the handful of random people of occasionally read this random blog).

Well, pride cometh before the fall...I hate it when other people are right - but I think God saw me write with so much pride He had to take me down a notch or too, out of love ofcourse - and He did!

Let me take you back to this past Friday... an eventful conclusion to an eventful work week. This week had been filled with the death of a friend, an injury to my neck, a massage from a sadistic massage therapist, the misplacement of my day planner(which truly is a tragedy)and other general strains and stresses of life. By Friday I was near the end of my rope - I remember thinking its ok I can keep it together just as long as nothing else goes wrong.

Well, Fridays in general are terribly busy for me because I am a Youth Pastor and Friday nights are youth group. I was on one of the final errands for youth group that night when I raced out of Canadian Tire to find the doors or my car locked and the keys still in the ignition...not only still in the ignition but the car still running. WHAT WAS I THINKING?

My response to this was completely level head and unemotional - I stomped my feet, kicked my car and welled up with tears. I then preceded to tearfully call CAA and as I sat waiting by the entry of Canadian Tire, my attempt of holding 'it' together unraveled and I was completely frazzled. And I cried.

Now, in my hour and a half of waiting and crying - I ironically observed the men who entered their Canadian Tire - half concerned and totally repulsed by emotional state. It wasn't as if they didn't want to help me, they were simply too petrified to come near me.

Through this humbling experience I came to three conclusions 1) chivalry is dead ladies, no matter how much we wish otherwise... 2) Though the frazzled woman it frightening to the average man, guys you have to understand it is a wonderful release. And 3) Pride sucks, in all honesty I was attempting to hold alot together on my own because I am a prideful person - very prideful. The truth of the matter is if I just would have leaned on God and allowed Him to take of 'it' I would have been in much better emotion shape.

So here is a bit an apology for simply far too smug and prideful

Every Man's Greatest Fear ....

2006-01-26T12:45:00.000-08:00

I have stumbled across an age old secret - the one thing that truly frightens every man ... Woman. Not just any woman, oh no, the dreaded frazzled woman. There is something particularly unnerving for a guy who has to face an emotional and frazzled woman - particularly for those alpha male types.

Now, I would like to make known that I am not pointing this out in an effort to inform the world of women how to gain the upper hand in the power struggle between the genders. As that entire topic has been 'done' too many times to count.

I am pointing out a terribly entertaining quality in men that I have recently seen in action. A friend and I were discussing how we are treated differently in certain businesses because of our gender. He being a male and I a female. He noted that females often receive better customer service, particularly in garages, technical stores etc.

And I must admit I do agree because I have experienced this phenomenon and it has nothing to do with beauty, grace and charm, for I possess none of those things. It is simply a fear of the uncontrollable - for example today I was at a lumber yard. (Don't ask me why...I just needed some lumber OK). Now, I am willing to admit that I am clueless when it comes to lumber and other products that might be sold in a lumber yard.

So I walked in a started wandering around - and immediately I was intercepted. Yes, the male employee had spotted me and with his male intuition he knew this could quickly escalate into a frazzled woman situation.

He had concern written all over his face, I was a ticking time bomb of emotion that could blow at anytime and to needed to be neutralized. Very quickly I was helped and sent of my way, crisis averted - whew. He was relieved, I was entertained.

I need to confess that while I do find this rather humorous, it is simply part of the male psyche. And I do not feel the need to apologize because I also know that they find it equally funny to watch me climb the wall and scream like a idiot when I encounter a snake or mouse.

I suppose it is all just part of God's well balanced sense of humour!

2006-01-20T15:13:00.000-08:00

Just me

My name is Erica and I am a blog stalker...

2006-01-20T14:39:00.000-08:00

New...yes I am new to the blog world. So new in fact - no one knows that I am here, for some reason I find comfort in that. It is terribly strange for me to have my own blog, you see I am a blog stalker. It was never my intention to become one, but here I am and it has progressed to the level of me feeding the addictions of other stalkers and creating my very own blog - so that I may too be one day stalked.

Now, when I say stalker, I don't mean root around in the garbage and tap phones kind of stalker. (That takes far to much effort) I mean the 'click click' kind - the kind where I innocently visit my good friend's blog and find myself drawn to another blog of another friend - and then another friend. Until I am in the blog of someone who I only kinda of know...and I am reading their thoughts on life. Which is kinda like spying. And then I commit the ultimate woe, I enter into the blog of a STRANGER...'gasp' I know -

So my message and initial post is a welcome to all you creepy strangers/blog stalkers. I understand.