The Need for Mystery - M. Laycock

Marcia Lee Laycock

“Let mystery do its work – encourage the listener (or reader) to participate.” Jeffery Overstreet

“Awaken the questions. Tease the mind into active thought.” – C. H. Dodd

Jesus was the master of mystery. He spoke in parables and hyperbole and metaphor. He rarely, if ever, gave a direct answer to a question. Often he answered a question with another one.

I imagine his disciples were often wandering around with quizzical looks on their faces as they tried to figure out what it was he was teaching them. And I imagine they found that very frustrating. But I’m sure, after wandering the landscape of Palestine with their teacher for three years, they came to an understanding that it was as they searched and pondered and struggled to understand, that they learned more and more about Him and His kingdom.

As writers I believe this is something we should emulate in our work. I believe, as C. H. Dodd said, that we should “awaken the questions” more than seek to provide the answers. It is when we leave our readers asking questions that they become completely engaged in our stories. They want to find the answers and it is oh so much more satisfying when they are led to discover them on their own.

Think about a book you love. What was it about those words that drew you in? The poetry of language perhaps, the lovely flow of words that seemed to sing? Or was it a deeper understanding of something that had eluded you before, the epiphany, the discovery of that which had been hidden? In most cases our favorites are books that were a blend of these things, books that made us think, made us ask questions, books that led us deeper into the mystery of life and the spiritual realm.

When our readers are caught up with the mystery of our stories they can’t let them go. The characters linger because there is a bit of a puzzle in their personality. Their motivations are deep and complex, their fears and foibles real yet still something to make the reader wonder. And then, when the mystery becomes clear, the reader understands more about the world, more about himself and more about the One who created both.

As  David Weinberger has said, "We don't need more information. We don't need better information ... We need understanding ... And understanding is not more or higher information. If you want understanding, you have to reenter the human world of stories. If you don't have a story, you don't have understanding."
 

So let’s follow Christ. Ask the questions, spin the tales, tease the mind and awaken the soul. It’s what He taught us to do. It’s what good writing is all about.

****

Marcia Lee Laycock writes from central Alberta Canada where she is a pastor's wife and mother of three adult daughters. Her work has been endorsed by Sigmund Brouwer, Janette Oke, Phil Callaway and Mark Buchanan. She was the winner of The Best New Canadian Christian Author Award for her novel, One Smooth Stone. Her second novel, A Tumbled Stone, was recently short listed in the contemporary fiction category of The Word Awards. Marcia also has two devotional books in print. Spur of the Moment is now in third edition.  Visit Marcia’s Website

 

Abundant Rain

 

Abundant Rain, a devotional for writers of faith is available on Smashwords

Duct-Tape Disciples-Arends

What follows is one of my recent Christianity Today columns - about an amazing friendship, surfing, and discipleship. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Carolyn

Duct-Tape Disciples

What really sticks when leading a friend to Christ. 

Carolyn Arends [ originally posted on CT's website ]

Pascale Honore loves watching her sons tackle the Australian surf. A woman not easily intimidated, she would join her boys in the waves were it not for a 1995 car accident that left her paraplegic. Bound to a wheelchair, surfing was not an option—until one of her sons' friends had an idea.

Tyron Swan, 23, is a strong and skillful surfer. "I could duct tape you to my back and surf," he said to Pascale, 50. Pascale didn't see why he couldn't, and, armed with several rolls of tape, they set out to test their plan.

Pascale "can't find the words to explain" what it's like to move through the ocean, to feel like she's "part of the water" after years of immobility. For his part, Tyron notes that surfing with an extra 88 pounds taped to his body is "a pretty good challenge." But his nonchalance can't mask the significance of his gift. "It's changed her life in a way," he admits.

Pascale and Tyron's adventures have been chronicled in a short documentary, Duct Tape Surfing. It's the sort of clip you think would take the Internet by storm, and that's exactly what it has done. How could anyone not be moved by Pascale's courage and Tyron's tangible friendship?

If my fellow Christians are anything like me, I suspect they can't watch the footage without seeing a powerful metaphor for spiritual friendship. Is there any more vivid embodiment of "bear one another's burdens" (Gal. 6:2, ESV) than a sturdy Tyron rising up on his surfboard with a grinning Pascale on his back? Is there any richer example of the way trust can make possible things once thought impossible? When we use words like evangelism and discipleship, are we not daring to dream that we who have already experienced the waves of God's mercy might somehow lead a friend or two into the water?

I must resist the urge to reduce Pascale to a sermon illustration. But there is a detail in her story that I can't help relating to the matter of spiritual friendships. It has to do with duct tape.

Wherever the Duct Tape Surfing documentary is posted, there is space for viewers to leave comments. Several folks have asked about having a company make a professional-grade harness, eliminating the need for the reams of silver tape that Tyron cuts off with a fishing knife after every outing.

"Pascale was sent a number of harnesses to try but realized that duct tape is the best as Ty needs her in a certain position," explains Mark Tipple, the film director. "Too low, and he's off balance, or if she's too high, he can't raise his head while paddling and can't see. For now, duct tape is the best!"

Where prefabricated solutions have failed, duct tape lets Pascale and Tyron customize, adapt, and fit themselves together as needed. Here is where my mind makes the leap back to spiritual friendships. There are many evangelism and discipleship programs available, chock-full of great ideas. But I am learning, in my halting attempts at spiritual friendships, that no one believes, disbelieves, questions, or grows in exactly the same manner. There is no one way to share the faith or invite someone deeper into it. While programs give us ideas, successful spiritual friendships are built upon adaptive, responsive, trusting relationships as unique as the people who inhabit them.

As a teenager, I spent several weeks going through a life-changing discipleship program with my youth pastor's wife, Pam Mitchell. Although I'm grateful for the material we worked through, I can't remember anything about the curriculum we used. What I remember, above all, is our friendship—the way I could trust Pam completely with my hurts and hopes. As she lived out the Scriptures we were exploring, I longed to swim where she swam—to follow her as she followed Christ (1 Cor. 11:1).

There is a give and take to discipleship, a discovery of how a would-be mentor's strengths and experiences align with a friend's questions and quandaries. Spiritual friendship should be as much listening as leading, as much discovery as discourse. Forcing that friendship into preconceived patterns will almost certainly sink it.

And so, whether I am the mentor or the mentee (or, often, both), I am trying to embrace something like duct-tape discipleship. It's stickier, and messier, than some of the prefabricated solutions. But it takes an approach as adaptable—and tenacious—as duct tape to be the kind of friend who dives in deep and, like the Proverb says, "sticks closer than a brother" (18:24).

Keep Balanced – Enjoy the Game (Peter A. Black)

Our family hadn’t been long in Canada before I became aware of Canadian hockey great, Bobby Orr. He was in his mid-twenties then and flying high in his career.

Although I didn’t take a keen interest in the game, I couldn’t miss him – his name was everywhere. The exterior of the lunch-box I bought for my first job in Canada was decorated with colourful images of Bobby in action. They were also printed all around the exterior of the thermos that came with it.

 

That was how I learned of his existence. And now, almost 40 years later I’ve finally taken some interest in the game, but why? It’s amazing what can happen once you’ve a grandkid who plays the game. Personally, I admit that I’m still not a red-hot fan; however, I’ll cheer when “our” team scores or wins, and pitch in an ear-splitting whistle, too.
 
(Hmm . . . must admit though, I was rather chuffed that our grandson's team recently came amongst the top 8 out of 70 teams in his category at a regional international Silver Stick tournament.)

Jian Ghomeshi, host of CBC Radio’s cultural talk programme Q, interviewed Orr, who recently launched his autobiographical book, Orr: My Story. Orr told of his love for the game and how he developed his hockey skills. That was through playing shinny on frozen lakes and ponds in the Parry Sound area, where he was raised. He and his buddies had fun. They enjoyed themselves. Skill growth came naturally.

When asked about the difference then and now in minor hockey, Orr said that it’s over programmed. He expressed that nowadays everything’s too highly organized and based on systems. Kids are on the road game after game and under pressure, so there’s little or no fun for them. Love for the game comes out of the fun and enjoyment of it.

We adults do have a way of spoiling fun for kids, by pushing them too hard to fulfil our own hopes and dreams – even our fantasies – through them. Perhaps you are or were a kid-pusher. It’s natural that we’d want to see our children succeed in something we consider to be a worthwhile activity and that we take seriously.

It’s also true that certain young folks need some pushing, especially the push of encouragement. However, many adult hockey players bear the battles scars of the game: missing teeth, wrecked knees, broken limbs that haven’t mended well, and neurological damage and lowered emotional thresholds from repeated concussions.

Would parents really want that for their ten-year-old? You must strike the right balance, we say; it’s not always easy, though. Let kids have fun and enjoy the game.

That said, today’s musings aren’t really about hockey or kids or kid-pushing parents; it’s about us. About life. About the gift of life and whatever prospects for good this infant year may hold. We’ve been privileged to enter and live in it, thus far.

We sometimes remark about what the years have done to someone. But what have we done to our years? Let us enjoy them.

We will encounter problems and challenges–situations that stretch us, that cause us to cringe, driving us to our knees. Some may be relatively inconsequential, while others may be extremely serious. If, in the midst of these, we can have fun and find enjoyment in simple things – in the small blessings of everyday, our living will not be in vain.

An old saying goes, “The Devil trembles when he sees the weakest saint upon his knees.”

Thank God for the privilege of prayer; it can help us keep balanced to enjoy the game.

~~+~~
(Bobby Orr graphics from publically available sources.)
Peter A. Black is a freelance writer in Southwestern Ontario, and is author of “Parables from the Pond” – a children's / family book: mildly educational, inspirational in orientation, character reinforcing. (Finalist -- Word Alive Press ISBN 1897373-21-X)
His inspirational column, P-Pep! appears weekly in The Guide-Advocate. His articles have appeared in 50 Plus Contact and testimony, and several newspapers in Ontario.
Peter’s current book project comprises a collection of 52 column articles.
Raise Your Gaze
~~+~~

 

 

 

Saying Thank You is Good for the Soul/MANN

With the Christmas season behind us, you've probably got a thank you in place where ever it's needed.  This is the age of communication. Social skills are high and social media is top priority with many people.  It doesn't take long to send off a few words of gratitude to someone for coming into our life with a gift of a word, present or email/mail greeting.

“Saying thank you is more than good manners. It is good spirituality” (Alfred Painter). It is often the same people who understand appreciation for relationships that find it the easiest to return thanks. Some people seem to stumble over the words ‘thank you’, it’s almost like they have trouble seeing their personal goodness and acknowledging that others would want to give to them, appreciate them or care for them. So they avoid coming back to the giver to acknowledge the kindness. Perhaps not being able to say thank you is more about people’s self esteem than it is about being too busy to get around to it. Perhaps we think the gift is owed to us, so why should we humble ourselves to say thank you.

If you’re in the church, the term return-thanks is heard in liturgy, song and scripture. If you follow blogs or are on Facebook, you find comment-windows to enter those two special words.

 G.B. Stern said Silent gratitude isn't much use to anyone. He obviously believes that people who don’t say thank you still feel gratitude, and unless it becomes verbal, it doesn't add to either the giver or the receiver’s relationship.

One does not give for the sole reason of receiving a word of thanks, but one does give hoping to contribute to a relationship. Giving works both ways. “I care for you enough to give you something” speaks volumes that you want to enhance a relationship. To hear the words thank you, only shows that it’s worked.

If you were raised with parents like mine, you would have often heard the words whispered in your ear, “And what do you say?” when someone gave you something.

 The other side of this opportunity of building relationship is accepting the opening to say you’re welcome to the person who has just said thank you. This may seem equally as difficult for those folks who have difficulty recognizing their actions have indeed pleased someone, or maybe they don’t want to build further on their actions if it is a duty-call.

Saying thanks builds relationships and when the giver has opportunity to say the words, you’re welcome, it completes the circle and the bond is strengthened. Thank you for reading this blog. I trust it sustains our relationship.

Blessings and a Happy New Year       

Donna

Check out www.donnamann.org                                           

The Birth of The Hymn “Precious Lord” — Alan Reynolds

There is a story about the Gospel song,  "Precious Lord," which may be a help and comfort for any who are finding these opening days of 2014 hard and difficult.

It was written, words and music, by Thomas A. Dorsey. Unfortunately, many have mistaken the Thomas A. Dorsey, the Gospel Jazz musician of the 1920's and 1930's, with Tommy Dorsey, the swing band leader of the 1930's and 1940's.
 

Here is the true story: 
 

Thomas A. Dorsey, who composed the words and music to “Precious Lord, take my hand,” was a piano-playing blues musician in the Chicago area who “got religion.” 

At this time, music in the black church tended to imitate white choirs in white churches. Dorsey claimed “the blues,” for the black church. “Blues” was that combination of white-American and black-African music which we would call “jazz.” But distinct from secular jazz, Dorsey helped in the development of what we might call Gospel Jazz. He became a leader in the music of the black church, his influence lasting from the 1920’s even to the present time, from Ethel Waters to Mahalia Jackson. Most black secular artists, such as Diana Ross, Aretha Franklin, or even Ray Charles, got their start in the worship music of the black church.
 

Let Dorsey himself tell the story of “Precious Lord”:

Back in 1932, I was a fairly new husband. My wife, Nettie and I were living in a little apartment on Chicago's south side. One hot August afternoon I had to go to St. Louis where I was to be the featured soloist at a large revival meeting. I didn't want to go; Nettie was in the last month of pregnancy with our first child, but a lot of people were expecting me in St. Louis. I kissed Nettie goodbye, clattered downstairs to our Model A and, in a fresh Lake Michigan breeze, chugged out of Chicago on Route 66.

 

However, outside the city, I discovered that in my anxiety at leaving, I had forgotten my music case. I wheeled around and headed back.

I found Nettie sleeping peacefully. I hesitated by her bed; something was strongly telling me to stay. But, eager to get on my way and not wanting to disturb Nettie, I shrugged off the feeling and quietly slipped out of the room with my music.

The next night, in the steaming St. Louis heat, the crowd called on me to sing again and again. When I finally sat down, a messenger boy ran up with a Western Union telegram. I ripped open the envelope....

Pasted on the yellow sheet were the words:
 

YOUR WIFE JUST DIED.

People were happily singing and clapping around me, but I could hardly keep from crying out. I rushed to a phone and called home. All I could hear on the other end was “Nettie is dead. Nettie is dead.’”

When I got back, I learned that Nettie had given birth to a boy. I swung between grief and joy. Yet that same night, the baby died. I buried Nettie and our little boy together, in the same casket. Then I fell apart. For days I closeted myself. I felt that God had done me an injustice. I didn't want to serve Him anymore or write gospel songs.  I just wanted to go back to that jazz world I once knew so well. But then, as I hunched alone in that dark apartment those first sad days, I thought back to the afternoon I went to St. Louis.

Something kept telling me to stay with Nettie. Was that something God?  Oh, if I had paid more attention to Him that day, I would have stayed and been with Nettie when she died.

From that moment on I vowed to listen more closely to Him. But still I was lost in grief. Everyone was kind to me, especially one friend. The following Saturday evening he took me up to Maloney's Poro College, a neighborhood music school. It was quiet; the late evening sun crept through the curtained windows.

I sat down at the piano, and my hands began to browse over the keys.

Something happened to me then. I felt at peace. I felt as though I could reach out and touch God. I found myself playing a melody. Once in my head they just seemed to fall into place: 'Precious Lord, take my hand, lead me on, let me stand, I am tired, I am weak, I am worn, through the storm, through the night, lead me on to the light, take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home.'

The Lord gave me these words and melody, He also healed my spirit. I learned that when we are in our deepest grief, when we feel farthest from God, this is when He is closest, and when we are most open to His restoring power.

And so I go on living for God willingly and joyfully, until that day comes when He will take me and gently lead me home.
 

Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on,
Let me stand
I'm tired, I am weak I am worn
Through the storm, through the night
Lead me on to the light
Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home

When my way grows drear precious Lord linger near
When my life is almost gone
Hear my cry,
Hear my call
Hold my hand lest I fall,
Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home

When the darkness appears and the night draws near
And the day is past and gone
At the river I stand
Guide my feet,
Hold my hand
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home

Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on,
Let me stand
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn
Through the storm, through the night
Lead me on to the light
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home

 

~~~~

 

(Posting: Peter, for Alan.)

 

~~~~

 

 

A White Rock Garden: What is really killing the bees?

A White Rock Garden: What is really killing the bees?: Thanks for joining me on part 2 of my interview with SR on the future of the honeybee. Please see part 1 of our discussion here. WRG  When...

Christmas Love Notes from God - Gibson

I picture you at Christmas. Do you see what I see?

 

Crazy busy. Perhaps crazy lonely. Wondering how you’re going to fit everything in, or wishing you had something to fit in. Wondering how you’ll survive. Oh, I picture you at Christmas, because I’ve been to some of those places too.

This is my Christmas hope for you:

I pray you a new sense of comfort and joy. One that refreshes and restores all your weary and anxious parts. The ones you hide so well and the ones you can’t hide at all. A sense of Presence that abolishes your fear and embraces you with the deep certainty that you are loved. So loved. An abiding strength that buoys you up to carry on.

My hope is not unrealistic. You can grab it, hold it, count on it. It’s the essence of Christmas. 

“The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel, (which means “God with us”) Matthew 1:23.

“But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah the Lord” Luke 2: 10-12.

“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 Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” Isaiah 9: 6.

“For God SO loved the World that he gave his One and Only Son, that whoever believes in him should be saved ” John 3: 16.

Some in the world—no, many in the world—have little or nothing at Christmas. But if they have Jesus Christ, walking alongside, what they have is not only enough to make Christmas worth celebrating—it is everything.
Why?

Because celebrating Christmas with Jesus plus all the traditional delights of the season means no more than passing a quiet Christmas with Jesus alone. But celebrating Christmas amidst everything holly, jolly and rich—with no Jesus—is abject poverty.

 

I picture you at Christmas. I picture how God sees you: loved, invited, affirmed and embraced. I picture you knowing you are never alone. Knowing you can accept his best, all because of the amazing grace offered by Jesus Christ. Immanuel. God with us.  

Do you see what I see? Downy child in a cattle-shed. Babe still sticky with his mother’s blood. Seed of heaven, Abba-blown to a planet infinitesimally small. Colossal king in a newborn frame. Government on his shoulders.

He is all.

“Thanks be to God for his indescribable Gift,” 2 Corinthians 9: 15

***

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Kathleen

This column  ran the week of Christmas in numerous Western newspapers, and here.

Eternal Welcome

I was moved to tears this morning.  We were reading Galatians 4:1-7 as recommended by  REJOICE!, our daily devotional magazine. It talks about the laws that the Jewish people followed thinking that could save them.  (We too are apt to follow and try to do those things that we think will earn us points with God. A flash-back reminded me of a time in my life when I was bound by that ritual.)  

“But when the right time came, the time God decided on,” says verse 4, “he sent his Son, born of a woman, born as a Jew, to buy freedom for us who were slaves to the law, so he could adopt us as his very own sons.”  (My heart leapt in gladness and glowed with warmth at God’s mercy.)

The scripture continues in verse 6, “And because we are his sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, so now we can rightly speak of God as our dear Father.”  Wow!  If that isn’t grace, I don’t know what is!  My heart was already full of gratitude, saying “Oh my Father, my dear Father!”

Then I read Leonard Beechy’s comments on the scripture.  He described Rembrandt’s painting The Return of the Prodigal Son, which captures the moment the son throws himself on his father’s mercy and is ready to tell him he is no longer worthy to be called his son, but the father is so caught up in finally having his son back, his eyes shut, holding his son closely to his heart. Beechy says the father is “completely absorbed in the embrace of his precious son.”

That moved my heart too, but the next sentence really got to me.  “We too are inclined to approach God with our failings and frailties as though we were slaves ready to scrape, beg, and bargain.” That’s when tears sprang to my eyes and choked me up so I could hardly continue reading. 

Yes, God has asked us to confess our sins to keep our lives clear of debris and to free us to live victorious and able to serve with joy.  How often, though, when I confess a failure in my life, do I remember all those other times I have failed or done wrong, and I wonder if God isn’t tired of hearing me come again, with my dysfunction and yet another confession. I can’t believe that God wouldn’t remember all those times.  But Beechy says, “God will have none of it.  Before we can even begin, God gathers us into loving arms, receiving us completely and joyfully.  Each time we come, God has prepared for the meeting.”

I too often forget that Jesus came, lived, died and rose again so that I can be cleansed from “all unrighteousness.”  My human mind can’t conceive the fact that if I confess my sin, it is wiped away.  God can no longer see it. He sees only the blood-washed me; the cleansed and made pure me.  He sees me only as his beloved child, his heart glad that I’ve come once more into his embrace.  Beechy says, “In the eternal Now of the fullness of time, you come into God’s presence as nothing less than God’s beloved child, eternally welcomed, eternally embraced.” 

At this time of year, when we remember Jesus’ coming to earth as a babe in a lowly manger, if we stop in our busy, frantic rush,  we can see all that he gave up to live as a human among humans.  We need to remember the purpose for which he came.  To forget that, is like ignoring a precious gift someone has given us—forgetting to open it, or opening it and setting it aside, never thanking the giver.  It’s an open affront to a gracious giver.

Rather, let us bring joy to a loving Father, coming into his open arms and leaning against his breast.  Let us come home to that eternal welcome--embrace and soak up the love he’s so ready to give us.  

Joy to the world, the Lord is come!

Lessons of the year 2013—Carolyn R. Wilker

Like others in my circle of friends and acquaintances, I could write a gratitude post—which could also be a blessing post— and that would be alright, for the year is ending on a stronger note, business-wise, and it’s a good thing to be looking ahead. Instead I will write about what I’ve learned this year.

I’ve learned:

·        Using some of that time when business was slow, I did more writing which was also a good thing, because engaging the creative brain is a stimulus to new ideas. It also allowed time to redecorate the living room in our home, and while the upheaval is challenging, the putting back together in a new way is rather enjoyable.

·        Networking pays off, if we keep at it. New leads have come for work and speaking. We most want to work with those we know and trust. It's something people have known long before the Internet became a hive for social media.

·         Unexpected blessings come our way, new friendships and reconnecting with those we haven’t seen or spent time with in years. There have been new opportunities I had not thought possible only a few years before. A business owner in my networking group produced business cards, bookmarks and even Christmas cards for me, and the benefit of working with her was getting to know her much better and learning that her values and beliefs are much like mine.

·        Books I’ve read over the years have been a great asset in my editing work. Some of those projects have also stretched my thinking so that I am always learning new things each time I work with a writer.

·        As long as we are willing to try new things and engage in new activities and meet new people, we are the richer for it.

·        The more we work together, the better we do. I knew that before, but each year brings reminders and new situations in which we help our “brother and sister.” It comes in helping neighbours, friends and family.

·         Spending time with my grandchildren means looking at life through their eyes and makes me feel young, that is, if I’m not too tired after helping with their care.

·        And another thing I often need reminders of is God’s care: how he blesses us and works through others around us when we need prayer, work, and their friendship.

May the peace of the Lord be with you all as you celebrate the birth of Jesus, God’s gift to us.

You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. Luke 2:12b

The Power of Perseverance -HIRD

By the Rev. Dr. Ed Hird

Many people around Christmas hit walls and feel like giving up. This season of joy can be a very blue time, sometimes even or especially for writers who often feel things very deeply.  For the past few months, I have been unable to access this blog to post articles on the TWG writers' rosters.  It was been very frustrating.  I was tempted to give up trying. Finally I dialed into http://blogspot.com rather than http://blogspot.ca and I could immediately post on this TWG blog.  What a miracle. I am so glad that I did not give up. 

Winston Churchill is famous for his advice during the Battle of Britain: “Never, ever, ever give up. Never give up. Never give up.”  It is so easy to let setbacks set us back, to let disappointments discourage us.  We can lose our first love, our original passion, our vision and focus.

Perseverance is the key to breakthrough in our lives, our marriages, our families and our work.  Without perseverance, we don’t finish well, we don’t fight the good fight, we don’t keep the faith.  The Good Shepherd once told a story in Luke 18:1-8 about a widow who was being exploited by a corrupt judge.  Widows have historically been some of the most powerless people, lacking protection and financial resources.  In some countries around the world, widows were even burned alive (Sati) on their husband’s funeral pyre.   This widow had no bribe to pay off the judge, so instead she wore him out with her pleading.

The Good Shepherd Jesus commended this persevering widow, and encouraged us to be persevering, especially in our prayer lives, never giving up.  Why are many people tempted to give up in their prayer lives? Sometimes the answers to our prayers often seem to take too long. Sometimes God says slow, or grow, or even no.   When there is great grief in our lives, our prayer lives can take a hit.  Our experience of tragedy can embitter us, and rob us of hope.  Jesus commended the persevering widow as a model for all of us.  God wants us to persevere.

Andrew Murray, a famous 19^th Century South African write, once said “Of all the mysteries of the prayer world, the need for persevering prayer is one of the greatest.”  A Facebook friend of mine, Matthew Lee Smith, sent me this note: “This Sunday, preach like Jesus is coming Monday! I am praying for you right now my friend!”  I am so encouraged when I know that people are praying for me. People can gossip about you, or they can pray for you.  It is a radical choice.  It is so easy to get discouraged and cut back in our praying for certain people. We may not even want to think about them, let alone pray for them.  It’s too painful.  God wants us to persevere.

Jesus was a man of prayer. The closer Jesus came to the cross, the more he prayed. Jesus prayed like no one else did.  He ever got a prayer named after him: The Lord’s Prayer.   This is a challenging time to be a Christian, to attend Church, to be a worshiper. Without prayer, we will get taken out, distracted, knocked off course.  If you are discouraged, pray. If you have lost heart, pray. If you don’t know the way forward, pray.  Prayer is the way forward. God always makes a way when it seems that there is no way forward.

God loves to keep his promises.  He loves to answer prayer.  Prayer is about leaning on the everlasting arms.  It is about trusting that He’s got the whole world in his hands, his faithfulness is great, and all that I have needed his hand has provided.  Prayer is about practicing God’s presence.  Jesus will never leave us or forsake us. He loves us with an everlasting love.  My prayer for those reading this article  is that we will learn from the persevering widow to never give up, to always persist, and to always keep on praying.  Merry Christmas.  Keep your eyes on the manger.

The Rev. Dr. Ed Hird, Rector

St. Simon’s Church North Vancouver

Anglican Mission in the Americas (Canada)

http://stsimonschurch.ca

-an article for the November 2013 Deep Cove Crier

-award-winning author of the book ‘Battle for the Soul of Canada’

http://www.battleforthesoulofcanada.blogspot.com

p.s. In order to obtain a copy of the book ‘Battle for the Soul of Canada’, please send a $18.50 cheque to ‘Ed Hird’, #1008-555 West 28th Street, North Vancouver, BC V7N 2J7. For mailing the book to the USA, please send $20.00 USD. This can also be done by PAYPAL using the e-mail ed_hird@telus.net . Be sure to list your mailing address. The Battle for the Soul of Canada e-book can be obtained for $9.99 CDN/USD.

-Click to download a complimentary PDF copy of the Battle for the Soul study guide : Seeking God’s Solution for a Spirit-Filled Canada

You can also download the complimentary Leader’s Guide PDF: Battle for the Soul Leaders Guide

Materialism in science: Banging our heads against a wall until finally the wall complains - Denyse O'Leary

Last time here, I looked at what materialism has done for science.

What it has done is focus time, energy, and money on nonsense.

We haven’t been to the moon in forty years (back in the days when the astronauts read from Genesis while floating in space). But I have amassed quite a collection of theories from the popular science media about where ET might be hiding:

Moonless planets have been unfairly dismissed and sunless ones could maybe ferry life around the galaxy. Some argue that hardy Earth life forms could have made it to one of Jupiter's moons and survived there. Jupiter's moon Europa looks promising to many. NASA has talked of a "flying-saucer-shaped space boat" to Saturn's moon Titan, some day. And the excitable word about another Saturn moon is, "Enceladus Now Looks Wet, So It May Be ALIVE!"

Exoplanets orbiting red dwarfs at a distance, it is said, may counterintuitively support life. So might exoplanets' moons. Every month, we hear of a planet or moon capable of supporting hype. More.

It gets crazier. Did you know, not only is earth one nice planet among many, but our entire universe is lost in a crowd?:

A large number of hitherto unnoticed universes? No sooner asked than granted: Nima Arkani-Hamed and others have proposed over 10^500 universes because fewer of them would not obviate fine-tuning. Why believe in them?

As a New Scientist writer has explained

But the main reason for believing in an ensemble of universes is that it could explain why the laws governing our Universe appear to be so finely turned for our existence ... This fine-tuning has two possible explanations. Either the Universe was designed specifically for us by a creator or there is a multitude of universes -- a multiverse.

Cosmologists deserve credit for making the choice so clear. In that spirit, Discover Magazine offers the multiverse as "Science's Alternative to an Intelligent Creator" (2008). And New Scientist's editors promise, in addition, a "multiverse-fuelled knowledge revolution". As David Berlinski puts it, "The Big Fix has by this maneuver been supplanted by the Sure Thing." More.

And… it gets better… in this multiverse, everything turns out to be true, except philosophy and religion!

Hailed as the "world's smartest man," with cameos to his credit on The Simpsons and Star Trek, Stephen Hawking has blessed the multiverse for popular culture. Denouncing philosophy (and religion) as "outdated and irrelevant", he announced that science dispenses with a designer behind nature because the law of gravity explains how the universe "can and will create itself from nothing."

Sometimes his pronouncements are less clear, though their outlines are discernible. Ian Sample, science writer for Britain's Guardian, asked Hawking in 2011, "What is the value in knowing 'Why are we here?'" Hawking replied:

The universe is governed by science. But science tells us that we can't solve the equations, directly in the abstract. We need to use the effective theory of Darwinian natural selection of those Societies most likely to survive. We assign them a higher value.

Sample had no idea what Hawking meant. But we can discern this much: Philosophy and religion may not matter, but Darwin does. More.

So philosophy and religion are outdated and irrelevant, and science makes no sense?

Well, materialism has sure made a difference, all right. Not a difference it was wise for our culture to support, promote, and fund.

The series to date:

What has materialism done for science?

Big Bang exterminator wanted, will train

Copernicus, you are not going to believe who is using your name. Or how.

“Behold, countless Earths sail the galaxies ... that is, if you would only believe ...”

Don’t let Mars fool you. Those exoplanets teem with life!

But surely we can’t conjure an entire advanced civilization?

How do we grapple with the idea that ET might not be out there?

Not only is earth one nice planet among many, but our entire universe is lost in a crowd

The multiverse: Where everything turns out to be true, except philosophy and religion

Made for God - Rose McCormick Brandon

One of the ways God reveals himself to us is through His creation – everything we see around us in the natural world, including our own bodies.

“By taking a long and thoughtful look at what God has created, people have always been able to see what their eyes as such can’t see – eternal power, for instance, and the mystery of his divine being.” Romans 1:20

God’s message of love and hope for all humanity is revealed in every single thing He created. If we are not willfully blind and choose to look for it, we can see God’s “I love you” everywhere. Of course, we don’t have the capacity to study everything in nature but most of us can see clouds, watch the moon move through its phases, feel the warmth of the sun, eat the harvest the earth produces and listen to waves. We drink water pumped from hundreds of feet beneath the earth’s surface. We live in houses and print on paper made from trees grown from seeds that God himself planted in the soil He created long ago.

 Seeds – human seed, animal seed, seeds that produce food. Seeds contain life. Every seed on earth can trace its roots back to the beginning, back to creation, back to when God spoke the world and everything in it into being.

God is the starting point of everything.

A one-time agnostic who came to believe in Christ, said, “I came to the conclusion that the universe did not make sense without God. I set out to search for Him and found that He was searching for me.”

The person who denies God is like a man who walks over to a table each day, takes a look at the food, and turns away in disdain. Eventually, that man will become hungry because his body was made for food. Likewise, the human soul is made for God, and can’t be complete without Him.

 We have a built-in need to come to terms with God. Often people experience a sense of “coming home” when they finally accept that God exists and that He has shown His love to the world, not only through His creation, but through His Son, Jesus Christ.

Making it Personal: Lord, the worries of this world keep me earth-bound. Help me to let my mind and soul take in the wonder of You and all that comes from You.

 

Rose McCormick Brandon's book, One Good Word Makes all the Difference, can be purchased here.

Visit her blogs - The Promise of Home and Listening to my Hair Grow.