The Word Guild: love

Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Monday, February 14, 2022

Radical Love

Some people are easy to love. Others are more of a challenge.

With Ottawa snarled for a third week of occupation by protesters, tempers on both sides of this issue have grown very short. Yes, I live in Ottawa, so this is not some far off difficulty that can be easily shuffled to the backburner of my mind. My son has had to leave his apartment to escape the constant din of blaring horns. Yesterday, I was delayed in traffic on my way to church due protesters and police blockades. The airwaves are filled with anger and frustration.

But it's not just a local issue, our country, and our churches and families are deeply divided over vaccines and pandemic measures.

In times such as this, I feel Jesus' words from the Sermon on the Mount have a great deal of relevance.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Matthew 5:43-48).

Well, Jesus, you certainly are calling us to a higher level of love. At times, all I want to do is hunker down and take pot shots at those who disagree with my position. But how much will that accomplish? It only tends to harden the opposition while I stew in anger.

Can I be a bridge builder? Can I keep communication open between opposing factions? That's a far bigger challenge. Jesus also said, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God" (Matthew 5:9, NIV).

This past Saturday evening, I officiated at the wedding of a beautiful young couple. Joy was on their faces. Love was in their hearts. I left the wedding celebration with my faith and hope renewed.

As for those whom we find hard to love, let's take up Jesus' call to radical love. Despite pandemics, protests and vaccine mandates, “these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love” (1 Corinthians 13:13).

Let's all try some radical love. On this Valentine's Day, it's far better than the alternatives.

David Kitz is the chair of the board of The Word Guild.
His most recent book series is "Psalms Alive: Develop a Life of Worship and Prayer".

Wednesday, January 02, 2019

A New Year – Living in Hope by Peter A. Black

“And so, that was Christmas and how did it go . . .?” – to paraphrase John Lennon’s famous Christmas song. How it went for you and me may vary enormously from how it went for many others.

Original Source uncertain

Keeping Lennon’s haunting melody in mind, we could go on at length posing all sorts of questions: “And so it’s the New Year, and what will you do . . .?” Or, “And so it’s a new year and what will it bring?” and so on. We can plan for our future, but we have no guarantees of its unfolding exactly as planned. And yet, surely it’s good to live in hope.

I’m pecking away at the keyboard musing on these matters on the last day of 2018 – December 31^st. Television video clips from around the globe are displaying New Year Celebrations as the midnight hour successively strikes in national capitals.

All in all, my wife May and I were blessed with a pleasant and enjoyable Christmas, and are truly grateful. However, we have extended family, dear friends and colleagues who will remember this Christmas and New Year period as difficult and challenging.

Courtesy: www.DaySpring.com

This morning I received a call to provide the prelude and accompaniment music at the memorial service for a friend’s sister. May and I have also to sing at it. The lady’s death in the closing hours of 2018 was a shock. My friend (who will officiate) didn’t even know of his sister’s recent illness. And so, we plan to travel with him and his wife the three-and-a-half hour trip to the venue.

I don’t mention this to be morbid, but as an encouragement for us

to live thoughtfully, not recklessly;

to adopt a humility that’s not boastful

about what we’re going to do,

and to urge a humility that, while hope-filled,

will cause us to recognize our human frailty.

Along with hope and humility, let us also journey on with love. Now, that offers much scope, from wholesome relationships to practical caring about people in our lives and beyond.

May and I recently received an advance invitation to provide a program in music and word for senior adults in February, on the week of Valentine’s.

Love is needful for quality of life, for the young and the old;

from our first breath on exiting the womb

and entering this crazily mixed-up world,

until we draw our final breath.

We accepted that invitation and, in good faith we plan in hope to fulfil it. Yes, faith.

Will you, will I, see the three-hundred-and-sixty-five days of 2019 through to their conclusion? Only God knows. Those enduring qualities of faith, hope and love will journey with us while we traverse the plains of life, if we cherish them in our hearts and exercise them daily.

Let us trust in Jesus, the locus and focus of our faith.

He is the hope of our trusting hearts, and the lover of our souls.

~~+~~

Peter is a retired pastor – well, sort of retired – as he is currently engaged as an associate volunteer pastor. He lives in Southwestern Ontario with his wife, May, and writes a weekly inspirational newspaper column and occasional magazine articles. Peter is author of two books: "Parables from the Pond" (Word Alive Press) and "Raise Your Gaze . . . Mindful Musings of a Grateful Heart" (Angel Hope Publishing). He and May are also engaged in leading nursing home / residential chapel services and music. ~+~

Tuesday, September 18, 2018

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

Wednesday, July 18, 2018

The Symphony of Grief and Creativity-by Heidi McLaughlin

Grief is a mysterious monster. It lunges us into deep dark places seeking the once familiar pathway of love. It longs to recapture the beautiful rhythm of shared experiences, intimate conversations and physical touch.

Grief is love with no place to go.

At one time my relationship with my beloved Jack was like listening to an exquisitely tuned symphony on a magical summer evening. Perfectly crafted sounds and rhythms that felt like a touch of Heaven. Grief steals that flawless balanced harmony and now all I wanted to do was hide and cover my ears to drown out the screeching and wretched sounds. Will that musical masterpiece ever be heard and felt once again? Does grief and pain sabotage our future creativity and ability to craft beautiful lyrics?

Grief has a profound affect on our brain. Through cortisol chemicals being released in the body, the brain is scrambled and unpredictable. Details are foggy, internal reactions are shifted and concentration is compromised. We lose interest in things, find ourselves unable to smile or laugh, we can’t eat or sleep and we’re emotionally numb. With all this disruption on our physical, emotional and psychological state, what happens to our creativity for writing, painting or writing a new symphony?

Pain takes us into unfamiliar and unpleasant places.

Yet each time we are thrust into deeper places, our mind expands with greater understanding, priorities and images. Once the fog disappears, images and colours are brighter, notes are clearer and we’re more courageous with our words and descriptions. Pain opens up another world that gives us permission to think and create outside predictable clichés and nuances. Barbara Lane in her article on “How Grief Affects the Brain” states: “Grief provides some of the low notes of our lives that make it a richer symphony overall.”[1] In fact, we’ll fearlessly embrace new words and notes that synthesize exceptional beauty and harmony.

Some of the greatest cultural masterpieces are the byproduct of pain and grief. Homer’s “lliad” tragedy is among the oldest extant works of Western literature and written around 8^th century B.C. C.S. Lewis ‘ greatest works, one being “The Problem of Pain” was written after the death of his beloved wife. The single mother, billionaire and ninth best-selling fiction author of all time, J.K. Rowling, makes no secret of the fact she deals with depression and pain. Doctor and author Henry Seiden goes even further to say:

“Creativity is the essential response to grief.” [2]

Twelve months after my beloved Jack died I attempted to carve out time to write my next book. Frustration set in and I felt inadequate as I wrote predictable sentences with lack of insight and creativity. At the time I thought I was ready to write another 60,000 words but my brain knew better. I will still foggy and disjointed. This year in the month of May I tried writing another chapter and this time excitement seared through my body as words, images and concepts flowed in harmony like the beginning of a new symphony. During my time in the dark and deep, the harsh life and loneliness gave way to the emergence of a magnificent new sonata. It won’t look like my previous ones, but I believe these will have more depth, colour and harmony. Lord may it be so.

[1] http://barbarafane.com/grief-symptoms-how-grief-affects-the-brain/

[2] http://www.headspace.com/blog /2017/04/18/grief-creativity-together/

Friday, May 18, 2018

STEALING LILACS: A Tribute by Heidi McLaughlin

The first time it happened I was only four. “Mommy why are we stealing these lilacs?” “Do those pretty flowers belong to us?” I was bewildered as I watched my gentle mother on her tiptoes reaching and snapping the branches from the vintage purple lilac bush. Soon her arms were filled with bunches of purple and the succulent aroma made her smile from ear to ear. I must have been mistaken, my quiet and tender mother would never do anything wrong. Certainly not steal. Captivated by my mother’s joy I clung to her hand and bounced along as we headed back to our compact bungalow nestled in a small village in Germany.

World War Two left bomb shelters, broken dreams and poverty throughout Germany. Yes, the rubble was being transformed into its former beauty and culture, but families were still struggling to re-establish their former lifestyle. My young and innocent mother was confined to the bareness and poverty after a devastating war, and I knew she longed for beauty. We were very poor. There was no garden to grow fresh vegetables or soil for my mother to grow the Dahlias, Sweet Williams, pansies or carnations. Her heart yearned to fill our home with vases filled with cut flowers of every shape, color and fragrance.

MY MOTHER YEARNED FOR BEAUTY

When we moved to Canada it felt like paradise to have our own vegetable garden and flowerbeds. Mother and I with our knees close together, poked holes in the soil and she showed me how to gently insert the tiny seeds and cover them just right. Soon our yard represented a painting of asters, dahlias and any flowers that survived the harsh winters and cooler summers of Prince George, British Columbia, Canada. Often, I saw mother heading outdoors with a pair of scissors to cut just the right combination of flowers that filled many of our crystal vases. Finally, she had the freedom to unleash her inner desires and create a home filled with beauty, peace and fulfillment.

Over time I observed mother expressing and modeling beauty through various avenues. I was fascinated by the way she hung clothes out in the fresh air, laboriously and lovingly securing each item with the wooden cloth pegs. With perfection, she was able to iron and transform dried wrinkled messes into absolute perfection. For hours she was either on her knees or stooped over a buffing machine to wax and polish our floors until we could see our reflections. Somewhere in the house, there was always the aroma of a flower or the smell of freshly baked bread. She found it difficult to say, “I love you” but every day she reflected her love by creating images and fragrances that let us know we were the most important people in her life.

MY MOTHER TAUGHT ME WELL

As the years passed I learned to appreciate and understand her quiet quest for peace and beauty. Now that I’m all grown up, I live in Kelowna, British Columbia, Canada. Each spring the earth awakens with Saskatoon berry blossoms, forsythia bushes and daffodils. My joy erupts when I walk through the surrounding vineyards, and then along a fence where I find a particular purple lilac bush. Its branches creep outside of its normal enclosure and I just happen to have a pair of scissors in my pocket. Without hesitation I snip off a few branches, carry them home and put them into a vase to watch them burst open in all their splendour.

Through strolls in the meadows my mother cultivated my heart to explore and enjoy the simple things in life. I am so grateful that she modeled how to infuse simplicity with beauty to create a beautiful loving home. My mother taught me well.