There is a "Why" in All of Us-by Heidi McLaughlin

These past few months I’ve been teaching yung'ns how to blow Hubba Bubba bubbles. Firstly, how to chew the big wad of gum until it feels “just so” and ready for the blowing. Secondly, wrap it around your tongue so it’s firmly encased in your mouth and then gingerly blow air into said gum. But it hasn’t been that easy to explain and the results weren’t always that stellar. In fact, we finally resorted to watching live demonstrations on YouTube, printing off instructions from Google and then watching ourselves perform the awkwardness of these steps in the mirror. 

Why do I succumb to these senseless, time wasting and unproductive activities?  Because I love children and get a thrill out of watching people succeed at anything. I love laughter, zany conversations and the simple things in life that give me good stories and memories.  There are other “whys” in me. Why do I spend so much time and money going to writer and speaker conferences? Why am I such a ferocious reader and love to golf three to four times a week? Why do I mentor, prayer counselling, teach Bible studies and then for relaxation, watch foreign movies? Because that is how God has wired me and how I’ve found fulfillment and pleasure in life.  

Why do we do what we do?

The “why” is also a good way to get into a person’s heart and find out why they are they way they is. It’s a beautiful way to connect. For example: Last week while golfing with a woman I’ve never met, we have lovely conversations about what brought both of us to Kelowna at this time in our life.  At one point I started to say: “I love to have a full life and I don’t like being alone for long periods of time because….” Then my new friend finished it for me, “Because you don’t like the emptiness.”  Wow that response blew my mind.  After a few more golf shots, I finally had the courage to ask her, 

“Why do you know about emptiness?”

You can probably guess that for the next four holes our conversation got real, honest and even gritty. A few times I couldn’t even hit the ball because of the tears in my eyes. The “why” question opened her heart and her story, and at the end of the game I knew I made a new and authentic friend. 

It’s good to find answers to our personal “whys” and those honest and life-changing answers are found in Jesus Christ. Listen: “It’s in Christ that we find out who we are and what we are living for.”(Ephesians 1:11 MSG).  So if life is confusing and you need answers, run to Jesus and ask Him.

• Why do I feel so anxious and tired all the time?
• Why do I get so defensive and takes things so personally?
• Why is my life out of balance?
• Why do I not love my husband the way I know I should?
• Why do I spend the way I do?

Certainly we can ask these questions to a friend or come up with our own assumptions. But our real answers will come from the One who created us and knows every detail of our lives. Jesus is the One who will give you the answers that can transform you and help you to live your very best life.

What is one question you need to ask Jesus?  Be brave, and ask Him today.

Heidi McLaughlin lives in the beautiful vineyards of the Okanagan Valley in Kelowna, British Columbia. Heidi has been widowed twice. She is a mom and step mom of a wonderful, eclectic blended family of 5 children and 12 grandchildren. When Heidi is not working, she loves to curl up with a great book, or golf and laugh with her family and special friends. 

Her latest book RESTLESS FOR MORE: Fulfillment in Unexpected Places (Including a FREE downloadable Study Guide) is now available at Amazon.ca; Amazon.com, Goodreads.com or her website: www.heartconnection.ca

The Gift of Honour on Mother's Day- HIRD

By Rev. Dr. Ed Hird

Mother Mary is the world’s most famous mother.  Her son Jesus honoured her while being crucified by passing on the care of his mother to the Apostle John.  In one of the seven last words from the cross, Jesus said: “Dear woman, behold your son, and to John: “Here is your mother.”  What an amazing honour and privilege that Jesus was giving John: to look after his mother.  How would you like to have been asked to look after the blessed Mother Mary? 

Jesus, who loved the Bible, rooted his life in the Ten Commandments.  At the heart of the Ten Commandments is the call to honour our mothers.  To honour is to love, to value and to cherish.  Mother’s Day reminds us that we need to honour our mothers 365 days a year, not just for 24 hours in May.  The Good Book tells us that if we honour our mothers, everyone wins.  Honouring our mothers even benefits ourselves by giving us a longer and better life. 

Because Mother Mary was a widow, Jesus was especially concerned about protecting and providing for his mother.  The Good book says that taking care of widows is at the heart of genuine religion.  If we do not honour the widows in our family and community, our religion is nothing but an empty pretense.  It is too easy for widows to be forgotten and discarded particularly when their health is failing and they become shut-ins.  Perhaps Jesus at this moment is reminding you of a widow you know whom you need to give a call.  Mother’s Day is a great time to let widowed mothers know that they are important parts of our community.

When Mary became a mother, she faced rejection and misunderstanding, even from her own fiancé Joseph.  God had to speak to Joseph and tell him that everything was okay.  It is never easy being a mother, especially in our current high-pressure culture.  Children are too easily seen as an inconvenience and a financial burden.  Mother Mary chose to sacrificially welcome her baby son Jesus into the world with her arms of love.  Motherhood is a life of sacrificial love.  Mothers love their children with a depth and passion, similar to how much Jesus loves each of us.  Right before his crucifixion, Jesus stood on the Mount of Olives crying “How often I wished to take you into my arms like a mother hen would her chicks”.  The well-known song by Mark Lowry includes the line: “Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy would one day walk on water? Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy would save our sons and daughters?”  

This Mother’s Day, we can honour the Mother Mary for her courage in giving birth to the saviour of the world.  We can also honour our own mothers who showed the courage to give birth to and raise us to adulthood.  Thank you, Mom.  We love you dearly.  Where would we be without you?

The Rev. Dr. Ed Hird, Rector

St. Simon’s North Vancouver

Anglican Mission in Canada 

-an article for the May 2015 Deep Cove Crier 

-author of Restoring Health: body, mind and spirit and Battle for the Soul of Canada

But God Doesn't LIKE Salsa - Gibson

Since their births, my four grandbeans have absorbed the habits of their nearest and dearest adults. I should mention here that their daddy is a preacher. That their grandfather is a Preacher. And that Mama and Nana preach too, in and out of the pulpit, in words written, spoken and sung.

Surrounded by such adults, it’s not surprising that the Beans would receive advanced classes in early spirituality. Some days I’m not sure that’s optimal.

Our third grandbean joined the Preacher and me for lunch the other day. At the tender age of four, Dinah is experimenting with her fledgling faith—and finding it useful.

“This is TOO spicy,” she said, of her tamale square.

“Ah,” said I. “That’s why I also made mashed potatoes.”

She dipped the tip of her spoon into the spuds on her plate. “But I don’t WIKE smashed potatoes.” she said. Then she put the spoon down. “Nana, I want salsa on my potato.”

I put salsa on the potato. She played with it a moment. “Nana,” she said sadly, “Ahm NOT hungry.” She slipped off her chair and left the table, then, minutes later, bounced back. All happy. “Nana, I want a snack.”

"No snack. You haven't finished your mashed potato and salsa or your tamale square. Around here, nobody gets snacks if they haven't eaten their lunch."

"I don't WIKE it,” she said, and retreated again. Then returned, seconds later. "Nana, God is hungry."

I almost dropped my fork. "Pardon me?"

"God is hungry!"

I gulped. "And how do you know God is hungry?"

"He told me."

"He told you?"

"Uh, huh. God is in my heart and God said he's hungry. He needs to eat."

"WELL then," says I. "No offense intended, but God can eat YOUR lunch."

"Nope," said the little con-artist, flouncing off for the third time. "God doesn't like salsa either."

At an after-church dinner, on another day, Dinah sat next to her older brother, who took his turn making contrary comments about Nana's food. Eating quietly (God liked her food that day), she listened to his complaints. After several miserable minutes, she’d heard enough. Lifting her pointer finger, she wagged it under his nose, and quoted from Philippians 2:

“Do everything without complaining and arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure children of God…!” Sermon text finished, she added the application: “Benjamin, dat’s what YOU need to do!” On the YOU, she poked his shoulder, and resumed eating. He howled, and the surrounding adults—at least this one—nearly choked.

“How to Use Religious Words to Manipulate Nana and Coerce Your Brother.” Who taught her that deep spiritual lesson?

Faith, they say, is more caught than taught. Some days I think we preachers should all just shut up and start tossing around more love and fewer words—especially in the presence of children.

Kathleen Gibson

newspaper columnist, broadcaster, author

www.kathleengibson.ca/sunnysideup

Kids' poetry - Nesdoly

Coon Zoo Lullaby

Come men, if you dare
just jab a date
for a coon zoo tour
don’t be late.

We’ll see toad and tiger
in creature jail
and worms that are leaner
than slime of snail.

For additional fees
(don’t riot the price)
you can jut x-rays
—just be nice

when you query the gait
of the turtle hare.
Will you fill the pail
of his dinnerware?

Waste the lid of nips?
Ha, the day has fled.
Pin the cog of hex
and it’s off to bed.

Your sad looks — Why?
For they rang the bell.
You about to cry?
That’s the matin’s knell

and the painted orb
is the eve of moon
close your eyes, sweet babe
for the day is done.

© 2011 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

************
If you live with young kids, or perhaps teach them, you'll recognize the above ditty as something in the genre of children's nonsense poems. I wrote it a few weeks ago, all Glynis's fault when she posted a list of words on our Inscribe forum with the challenge to write a story using each and every one. I challenged myself to write a poem.

If you read poems to children or write them, you'll know they are fun, lively, and as varied as the people who compose them.

Interested in finding out more? Why don't you check out Poetry Friday—a weekly meme that links kid-lit writers' blog posts of original poems and writing about poetry all in one place. I guarantee that Poetry Friday will teach you a lot about the state of children's poetry these days, while it introduces you to some of its movers and shakers.

Here is last week's Poetry Friday.
Here is a list of hosting sites for Poetry Fridays until the end of December 2011.

Happy poeming!

**************

Website: www.violetnesdoly.com

• Personal blog promptings  
• Writerly blog Line upon line 
  
• Daily devotions for children Bible Drive-Thru
• Daily devotions for adults: Other Food: daily devos
• A poem portfolio

Rehearsal for Heaven - Eleanor Shepherd

Walking into the sanctuary of our church on Sunday mornings reminds me that I am living in a global village. It really begins at the coat rack, where I quickly put my coat on a hanger so I can give a hand to my new friend, Natasha from Moldova as she tries to removes her snow suit of her wriggling little three year old, Elizabeth, whom she calls Lissa. As we walk through the door of the chapel Stephen from Nigeria greets us. Heading to my accustomed spot to drop off my bag and my Bible, I just have to stop to greet Siphe from Zimbabwe with her two darling little girls. I cannot believe how the oldest one has grown so tall. Her red glasses give her the look of a real scholar.

Although there is still ten minutes for us to greet one another before the service starts, the announcements are already scrolling on the screen in both English and Spanish. About a third of the congregation has their origins in Latin America. Colombians, Venezuelans, Mexicans and Cubans all join me at the translation equipment table, where we go to pick up the headphones. These enable our friends to understand all that is happening by hearing it in their own language. Since I am trying to learn Spanish, this service provides a great opportunity for me to listen to how it should sound.

Meanwhile the ushers are distributing the Bibles in English and Spanish, according to the choice of the worshipper. In addition, announcements in the weekly bulletin are also given in both of these languages. We want our Hispanic friends to know that this is their church.

Just as I am heading back to my seat, with the headphones, I spot my friends Asher and Suha arriving, along with Ramesh and Hema and their two little girls Suhanna and Nyanna. They find a place to sit, just behind Raj and Sushma with their two children. The Indian singing group is going to participate in the service today so the women in their blue and red flowing saris and the men in their colourful costumes add to the richness of the cultural mosaic.

When children’s’ time comes, in the middle of the service, all of the children gather at the front of the church and the scene resembles a playground at the United Nations. Action songs give all the children a chance to participate, where gestures fill in gaps in their understanding, so words are not always necessary. The important thing for the children and indeed for all of us to understand is that here is a place where we are loved and accepted, no matter what our origins or customs. We are learning to appreciate each other and the richness of what each one brings. As I watch the children, words from an old Sunday School song run through my mind.

“Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world.

Red and yellow, black and white, all are precious in His sight.

Jesus loves the little children of the world. “

The children that I sang about in that song, as a child, existed mainly in storybooks that I read. I saw very few in my church that were not just like I was. Now that has all changed and the song has become more real for me.

While some things have changed significantly, there are other parts of our worship that remain consistent. Just as in our youth, we enjoyed the lively music of the brass band as we marched down the street; we still enjoy that toe tapping rhythm, not so much outside now, but certainly as we enjoy times of praise and worship, and as accompaniment to the old hymns.

As well as the many new friends who have joined us we continue to nurture friendships with those who have been there for us during the good days and the challenges that have come our way. Worship has become a unique blend of the comfortably familiar and the stimulation of innovation and new ideas propelled by the infusion of those from other cultures.

Who knew that as one of the senior members of the congregation I could learn to appreciate samosas? Gone are the days of the church chicken dinners. A highlight of our church year for me recently was the fellowship that we enjoyed a couple of weeks ago at our international potluck dinner. My shepherd’s pie and my friend’s scalloped potatoes were as novel to some of our friends as the tortillas and rice dishes were to us. Each of us brought something that we enjoyed eating from our own cultural background and we had the chance to try some dishes we had never tasted before. Those of us working in the kitchen had to ask instructions about what to reheat and how from those who brought many dishes we knew nothing about. It was a unique dining experience!

Why do I find such joy in this multicultural setting? I think it is because every week when I go to church I am reminded of Heaven. There we will join in celebration with our brothers and sisters from every country and every language. I feel like I have the privilege of participating in a weekly rehearsal for that.

Post Christmas Contemplation Ruth Smith Meyer

Did you ever hear the story I heard again a few weeks ago, about the man who was nearing death and was finding it hard to think about leaving all the wealth he had accumulated?

He begged God to let him bring at least a part of his assets along to his heavenly mansion. Finally God conceded, telling him he would be allowed one suitcase. One suitcase! He could choose what he wanted to put in it but that would be it. After much deliberation, he determined that he would convert as much of his money into as many gold bars that would fit in the largest suitcase he thought God would allow.

The day of his departure came and he found himself at the gates of the heavenly city, dragging the heavy suitcase with a firm grasp.

“Sorry,” St. Peter said with an outstretched arm. “You are not allowed to bring anything with you.”

“But sir,” our friend asserted, “God gave me special permission to bring one suitcase along.”

“Just a moment,” said St. Peter, “I will check the ledger.”

He leafed through the pages, then looked up in surprise. “You’re right! You ARE allowed one suitcase. You may pass through the gates, but I’m really curious. What did you choose to fill your suitcase? Would you mind showing me?”

Proudly, the suitcase was opened. St Peter looked within and gasped in disbelief. “You were allowed one suitcase of anything you wanted to bring along from earth and you chose to bring a suitcase full of PAVEMENT?”

Soon after I heard that story again, we were reading in our daily devotions about Christ leaving the glories of heaven to come to earth to such humble conditions as a stable. The wonder of the change Jesus experienced filled my mind for several days. A few mornings later we read about the wisemen who brought their gold, frankincense and myrrh. The best and richest gifts they had to the little Christ-child.

Now Jesus came as a very human baby, but suddenly, I wondered if, when Jesus became aware of those gifts, he may have smiled and wondered at a gift of pavement. I was beginning to wonder what I would or could offer to God that wouldn’t make him want to smile at its insignificance.

Then I thought of what I, and probably many mothers, have experienced when our little ones first had the desire to bring flowers to us and came bearing a beautiful bouquet of dandelions in their chubby little hands. I remembered the way my heart filled with loving gratitude for the treasure they presented and the genuine love and adoration in their eyes. An Ah-ha! Moment! I made a connection to God.

I still thrill at the thought that God is pleased with whatever I offer him for the very same reason I was delighted by dandelions. The adoration of my heart and the sincerity of my desire to please him far outweighs the offering itself. Oh to bring him such delight every moment of my days!

Childless Mother - Ayotte

My husband and I recently returned from a brief trip to Swift Current to attend our granddaughter’s Confirmation. As you can see by the picture, Grandpa is the proud sponsor. He was very pleased with the unbelievable honor she bestowed upon him. I witnessed his pleasure first hand when our granddaughter called and personally asked him. We hadn’t visited with them since before Christmas and we saw a huge change. The girls have grown and matured and as usual we enjoyed our short visit.

On the way home, we always listen to the local radio station to get a bit of news about the surrounding area. The talk show on this particular morning was about an unfortunate car accident that took place on March 29, 2009 in a small town just outside of Swift Current.

The topic immediately grabbed our attention because two of the mothers that had lost their daughters were being interviewed about the tragic event. Three young girls, two sixteen years of age, as well as a fourteen year old were making a left turn when a car driven by a seventeen year old male tried to pass them on the left. He was driving 128k/hr when he hit them. All three of the girls died in this horrible car accident. The mothers, the families, and the friends of these girls have been beside themselves with grief ever since their loss.

The young man happened to be sentenced the week before, therefore, the talk show revolved around the punishment received and whether it was adequate enough. Although the judge gave him a sentence to suit his age when the accident occurred, even though he is now eighteen years old, some people who called in to express their opinion, did not think he received enough of a sentence.

My heart goes out to the mothers who lost their daughters in the prime of their lives and in such a tragic way. They were both quite big minded despite their unbelievable loss. However, comments were made by some callers that this young man had his whole life to live while the girls had so sadly lost theirs by his reckless actions. Some felt that he did not show enough remorse.

Later on in the talk show, I briefly heard the comment that the young man was having difficulty coping since the accident. My heart goes out to him and his mother as well. Unless this man has no conscience at all, I cannot phantom that he has been unaffected by having had a hand in the death of these three young women.

I would have to think that he will somehow or other be scarred for life. He lives in a small town where he would have little or no anonymity. He will live with the reality of his careless actions for the rest of his life. He will probably marry one day and have children of his own. He may very well learn to pray and appreciate the quality of life when he faces his actions as a more mature individual.

Yes, those young girls, their families and their friends got robbed, but I personally do not envy the life that this young man now has to live. Anyone who thinks it is going to be easy is only fooling him/herself. I also feel for this young man, his family and his friends. I’m sure his mother’s heart is aching too because there is much more to face in her son’s life and he will need the support of them all. They have all lost so much and their lives are forever changed. Three mothers lost their daughters on March 29, 2009 and one mother lost the innocence that her young son can no longer enjoy. All four mothers lost children that fateful day. Only now, one has to live with his actions for the rest of his life. Not a fun way to grow up.


Author of “I’m Not Perfect And It’s Okay”