Trusting—Carolyn R. Wilker

In March two of my daughters gave birth, each of them to a baby boy. We are happy for them and my husband is delighted to have grandsons to join the parade of granddaughters we already have and love dearly. We are pleased and thankful, most of all, for healthy babies who are doing well, and that the mothers, though still tired from broken nights of sleep, are steadily recovering from the birth of their babies.

It takes enormous energy to feed a growing fetus throughout pregnancy, giving birth, and then nourishing herself and baby in the post-birth days. Mothers can feel overwhelmed by the expectations and needs too.  And if there’s another child, to include that sibling in the daily routine and share the love. A new mother, or one having a second or third child, makes adjustments along the way. Often many. She appreciates the encouragement and physical support of  her husband, family and others, through lending a hand with tasks or prepared meals, during that time. Opportunities for an extra nap, too, to catch up on some sleep while Grandma or another family member cuddles the new baby and watches over the household for awhile.

I’ve had much opportunity in this past month to cuddle these new little grandchildren, and it made me think again, as I looked at the photos, how relationships build. How a baby needs everything—so much of his parents’ attention, for feeding, changing, comforting and protection. Completely dependent on his mother and father and family for those things, the baby does not yet know that it’s surely coming his way.

my husband and I with Isaac

The baby can only cry to let his family know that he needs something, long before he has the ability, or vocabulary, to tell what he needs. He learns, hopefully, that his care is assured, that someone will feed him when he’s hungry, that someone will rock him when he’s upset, and change him when he is wet. When the needs are met, baby can fall asleep again. In that long time, with steady loving care, a trust is built. Trust takes time. It builds a little at a time.

cousin Evy holds Nolan

I think of my brother, adopted at age 5 and a half, who did not have that same trust of adults in his life. His early life was full of broken relationships. We do not know for certain how many of them, but we know that those hurts take a lot of time to heal. Likely some of them never do.

Jesus asks us to come to him as children. He asks that we trust him with our needs and our life. It’s often hard to accept that trust that he’ll take care of us, maybe especially hard for people who’ve had similar early experiences as my brother. He’s learned some of that unconditional love having been part of our family, and yet trusting God with his life is a place he has not yet attained. I pray that someday it may still happen for him.

This same Jesus who came to us as a baby, whose earthly parents took care of his physical needs—his hunger, his need for comfort and protection from danger as an infant and as a child. He understands that and has experienced it.  He asks us only to trust him with our needs. And I’m here to say, it’s easier some day than others.

Author, editor, Carolyn Wilker

 www.carolynwilker.ca

The Christmas Star Still Shines Bright -HIRD

By Rev. Ed Hird

Every Christmas the Star gets our attention year in and year out.  What is it about the Bethlehem Star that never fails to shine?  What is it about the Bethlehem story that captures the imagination of billions of people throughout Canada and the entire globe? 

Two thousand years after the birth of Jesus, we are still bearing gifts, following that star.  If it was not for the wise men, none of us would be doing our Christmas shopping.  It is amazing how much energy we can put into Christmas, buying gifts, cooking turkeys, throwing parties.  Sometimes we can in our busyness forget that we are called to follow that star. As that Christmas Carol put it, “O star of wonder, star of night, Star with royal beauty bright, Westward leading, still proceeding, Guide us to thy perfect light.”

There is something very moving about perfect light, royal beauty bright light in the midst of a people living in great darkness.  December can be a time of great hopes and great stress.  No wonder that it is the high holiday of many alcoholics.  December is that time when fragmented families try once again to reconnect, however painfully.  Why do so many families watch the classic movie It’s a Wonderful Life every Christmas?  Perhaps it is because this movie captures the darkness and struggle that so many families experience at Christmas, and yet how the Christmas Star can still break in with unimaginable light and hope. 

Each of us, as the Carol puts it, may choose to look up and see a star, that to the earth it gives great light.  Each of us can choose to see the Christmas Star, Whose glory shines so far day and night.  Each of us can find great delight in the beauty of the Christmas Star that led the wise men to Jesus’ manger.  How many of us are willing to follow that star wheresover it goes?

Wise men and women even in 2016 still seek him.  As the Christmas Carol put it, “Sages, leave your contemplations, Brighter visions beam afar; Seek the great Desire of nations, Ye have seen his natal star: Come and worship, come and worship, Worship Christ, the newborn King.”  The Christmas Star causes us to celebrate a very unique birth, a baby boy who has become the Great Desire of Billions among the nations of the earth.  The Christmas Star leads us to come and worship, to come and adore him among the cattle and the sheep in a lowly manger. 

This Christmas on Sunday Dec 18^th at 10am, there will be a presentation of the Christmas Cantata Behold The Star.  May we all have eyes to see the Bethlehem Star and let this star touch your life this Christmas.

Rev. Dr. Ed Hird, Rector

St. Simon’s Church North Vancouver

Anglican Mission in Canada

-an article for the December 2016 Deep Cove Crier

-author of Restoring Health: body, mind and spirit

Feeling Blessed--Carolyn R. Wilker

Blessed means more than just saying thank you. The Canadian Oxford Dictionary defines blessed with such words as sanctified; often fortunate in the possession of, listing such items as good health and children; and bringing happiness. I could just list my blessings one after the other, or I could contemplate a few of those at a deeper level.

 I begin with the most recent, and in no particular order—our newest addition to the family.

We’ve become grandparents again, adding a new small one to the family. Tiny Mya is more than three weeks old as I post today. Her cousins, by comparison, are bigger than her, but in relative terms, I’ll call them “her little cousins” for they are three-and-a-half and five-and-a-half years old. The girls have been curious about this coming baby for months now, and not long before Mya was born, they asked their aunt if she would bring a little girl. A fair question, since we didn’t know at the time whether the baby would be a boy or a girl. I look forward to observing their reactions as Mya grows and eventually smiles at them. They both had turns holding their small cousin when we gathered at Easter.

                                                               Mya and me

We marvel at those tiny fingers and toes, the utter innocence of a newborn. I have looked forward, at each grandchild’s birth, to snuggling the small one to me and the soft breath against my neck as the child relaxes and goes to sleep. And as the baby grows, there’s so much more to look forward to as she engages in this new world. Thus grandchildren are my first item under blessings today.

I could list a free country where we can worship without fear, or having the land to plant a small garden to grow food and flowers, to bring nourishment and beauty. Both are good, however, my next one for the moment is my friends.

                                                                    My friend Kathy

Perhaps it’s having so recently attended the funeral of my long-time friend, Kathy, that I place my friends next. It’s a reminder to send those little notes about what they mean to me, as I did for Kathy while I still could, and a remembrance of other friends, such as Annie, Gayleen and Barb, who have gone before me. At such a time, I want to consider what Kathy has meant to me and other close friendships I have, even if miles separate us. I value the special qualities of a sincere heart, a listening ear, prayer for one another's needs, and the joyful celebrations we’ve had together, and because friendship goes both ways, I strive to do the same. I want my friends—and you know who you are, to know how much you are appreciated.

The list of blessings could be quite long. My immediate and extended family are a big part of it. And there’s our heavenly Father, too, whose love we can reciprocate only in part. We’ve been loved first, before we could love him, and this is where Jesus fits in.

We are told that we do not see clearly now, and that any images we have of God are like looking at a reflection that's not very precise. From that I take that we will only fully appreciate and see that love completed when we see Jesus face to face one day. I’m not in a hurry to get there, but I know that others have spoken of that meeting in their final words in their earthly life. We know that Jesus goes ahead to prepare a room for us when we are no longer able to go on here. That’s who and what we celebrate this Easter season, for we are God’s children and Jesus wants to be counted as our friend.

Carolyn Wilker is author, editor, writing instructor and storyteller. Learn more about what she does here.

GOD IS WITH US - Bob Scott

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6 NIV)

For many, this coming Sunday, November 29th, will mark the beginning of Advent, the season during which the anticipated birth of the Christ Child is celebrated.

We always get excited at the prospect of a new little life coming among us. I’m a grandparent, now. When a grandchild was on the way, I was as excited as when my own children were born. We always celebrate a new birth in our church congregation.

I suspect that, for many, the birth of the baby in Bethlehem it is the sole reason for their seasonal joy. It is the celebration of a new baby and nothing more. For others, it is only one of two occasions when their thoughts turn to spiritual matters. It’s what we do at Christmas and Easter. For either group, that falls far short of the real reason for the happiness we should all experience.

We are not just celebrating the birth of a child. If we were, all we would be doing is holding a sanctified baby shower.

We are fortunate that we can know this child’s destiny. Seven hundred years before Jesus’ birth, the prophet Isaiah spoke of his purpose in coming. He came to teach us about God’s love. He also came to die for us.

While he was among us he gave us the message of God’s amazing love and forgiveness for those who would put their faith in him. He came to call us to repentance and commitment. He instructed that we should follow his example.

He said that, if we would put our faith in him, we would begin to experience eternal life here and now. The question we should be asking is not “What if you died today?" Instead, it is “What is tomorrow looking like, and would you like some help and blessing in living it?” That’s really what Jesus was talking about.

I like the statement the late Charles Schultz puts in the mouth of his cartoon character, Charlie Brown. He says, “Eternity is a very long time, but not as long as it was yesterday.”

Why wait for the blessings that can start now and go on for all eternity? Why wait another day to understand the love of God for you. This season is about far more than a little baby born in a foreign country twenty centuries ago.

This Christmas, may we discover that there is much more to celebrate. Let’s seek direction from the Wonderful Counsellor, give our devotion to our Mighty God who is the everlasting example of a loving Father, and find time to contemplate the calm that only the Prince of Peace can give.

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Robert Scott is a pastor and the author of ADVERTISING MURDER, LOST YOUTH, and MURDER EXPRESS, titles in the Jack Elton Mystery series, Published by AVALON Books, New York

Easter Birth

Thirty-one years ago this Easter, I had what I can only describe as an “in-body” experience. I was having a baby. It started out the normal way. “I don't think we're going to get the baby's room finished today.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I think my water broke.” Think? It was a gusher. So at 5:00 AM Saturday morning, we went to the hospital. Nowadays, they tell you to go home and wait until the baby's head is half out. But in my day, it was, “Get into that bed and stay there!” So I got onto a bed (a generous word), where I endured contractions for the next 35 hours. That isn't a misprint. Thirty-five.

Normally, contractions do something besides hurt. They create an opening for the baby. My contractions, while painful, weren't quite doing the job. And because it was Easter weekend, the intern didn't want to bother the doctor too early. So there I was—in pain and helpless.

My husband, who stayed by my side the whole time, was as helpless as I was. It was his first baby, too.

Saturday dragged by. Any enthusiasm we had begun with evaporated. How long would this go on? As Saturday night became Sunday morning, I began to worry. I knew women had died in the past because of difficulty in childbirth. Could it happen today? I said nothing to my husband. He was as exhausted as me, and I didn't want to worry him.

Around 10:00 AM, he left the room. I felt so alone. Was the baby going to survive this? Was I?

Suddenly, I felt another presence in the room. A warmth came into my body. The pain remained, but I felt as though God were holding me in his hands. And in my mind, I heard him say that he understood. That he knew what it was like to lose a child. And I remembered that it was Easter Sunday—the day Christ rose from the dead. And I realized that if God loved me enough to send his son to die for me, I could trust him now. I told him that I trusted him to do what was best about the baby and me. Whether we lived or not was his choice.

I felt peace flow through me. The pain was still there. But my fears were gone. I wasn't in the intern's hands, or the doctor's, but God's.

Not long after, my husband came in to tell me the doctor was on his way. Apparently, a threat to call the doctor himself had finally motivated the intern. Once the doctor arrived, things happened. I was given something to make the labour contractions more effective, and soon I was ready. Ready? I was desperate to get that baby out!

But as we headed for the delivery room, the doctor warned me I might need a Cesarean. Just in case, I shouldn't push. I couldn't believe it. But I desperately tried to keep from pushing, afraid that I would hurt the baby.

Sure enough, the doctor decided a Cesarean was needed and sent my weary husband out of the room. The last thing I remember was the anesthetist saying, “I think you've had enough.”

I woke up hours later, alone in a private room. I had survived. But what about the baby? Eventually, a nurse came in with something for me to eat. She didn't mention the baby and I was too afraid to ask.

Half an hour later, another nurse came in. “Would you like to see your baby?” she asked.

I nodded, afraid to speak.

She brought me an adorable little bright-eyed boy with a bump on the back of his head where he had been trying to get through that opening that wasn't quite big enough.

Thirty-one years later, he is himself a proud husband and father.

And every Easter, I celebrate not only the birth of my first son, but also the continuation of my trust that the God who held our lives in his hands that Easter, who gave his Son for us on another, long-ago Easter, still holds us in his hands.