Horses

I just want to say that there are 3 other posts I've been trying to write... picking away at... writer's block I guess, has kept them from being posted. So in the future when you check in, you may have to check back to see anything new. I'm not techie enough to change the dates, and even if I could, I don't think I'd want to... the chronology is important to me. OK, now on to "horses".

On one of the last days in Costa Rica, spending time with God, He showed me a picture of a horse. She was penned, snorting, wild, wary... eying suspiciously a man sitting on top of the wooden fence. He held a lasso; He wanted to tame her. She just wanted to be free.

Then the man spoke to her: "I will be out here everyday, letting you get used to me." Then I saw the horse as she was roaming the plains - no borders, no boundaries... and still the man was there, patiently watching her, biding his time. You see, He already has plans for her, and they will come to pass.

I didn't need the brain of a rocket scientist to understand that God was talking to me, about me... but I was surprised a few days later when He led me to an article about horses. The writer told about the virtues of a good battle horse... will go ahead without fear... trusts her rider... presses on with courage despite all signs of danger...

This is who He is training me to be. But until I am her, He will sit on the fence posts, follow me into the plains, letting me get used to Him. He is patient with my skittishness... He is gentle with my fear. Someday He will break me... someday He will ride me... and the day I succumb to this is the day I will be truly free.

Had the sun never left, I would have stayed forever.

I spent a couple of hours yesterday afternoon sitting by a river in rural Costa Rica. Unlike most of the other afternoons I've been here, there was no rain - just 25C, the sun, a breeze, and the beauty of the jungle all around us.
Warmth is a wonderful thing... one of the things I treasure and appreciate most, both literally and figuratively. I sat on a rock and read a book, soaking in the heat and loving every moment. All too soon, it was time to go and prepare for the darkness that would set in without warning... the equatorial sun is not like the northern sun; there is no twilight here. So I left the sun in it's empty sky, left the rock that was sharing its heat, left the river, the breeze, the birds, and butterflies... left the paradise of a perfect day.

That leaving was weeks ago now. Yesterday's leaving was of a different kind. I resigned my job of almost 6 years to go back to school. Why? Because I believe it's what God is asking me to do... the journey to bring me here has been rocky and humbling, but through it He is teaching me to believe how trustworthy He is.

When I first began working here, I came across a quote that said "one half of knowing what you want in knowing what you must give up to get it." It was impacting, and since then has remained in my file folder reminding me that someday I would need its advice. Yesterday was officially that day.

I don't know what my new city and new life will hold for me, or if it will be even close to what my logic surmises it will be. But I'm hoping that it will include warmth... maybe literally only from a space-heater and a blanket... but I'm hoping figuratively it will be an entity that will flood my being into my home and through my hands. I hope also it will be shared with me from those who will soon be part of my new life. And if it doesn't, I know that God is capable enough to keep me warm inside and towards others, for it is the way He is.

Figurative warmth can be like a memory you can recall like another place far far away. Closing your eyes you can remember how it felt, you know you were there, but only in memory is it alive... all evidence of today fails to reproduce it.

I am here now... in a 500 square foot apartment, with a cat, a laptop and the homework to make use of it.  It hasn't sunk in yet that this is to be my new life for a while.  Perhaps for a long while... But I am here now, as much as I was there at the fire hall, and as much as I sat on that rock on the edge of the river the day the sun was splendid in its perfect sky.  The delight of that moment is available here, somewhere... my job now is to find it.  So search for it I must... and I'll keep you posted on that journey.

Where the ground is level

They stretched out row after row, most with a single fragmented sentence to capture each life. I walked among them searching for my own grandparent's grave, wondering about the lives that once filled the bodies that lay beneath the stones. The story of a life is so much more than a few words can express.
For the most part, I like cemeteries. I like the peacefulness, the reflection, and the silent history that lies beneath the earth. And on this day, scanning surnames looking for my own, I made an observation about the small town cemetery. Lying side by side were the Catholics, the Protestants, the Orthodox, and those without affiliation or other affiliations. I like that picture so much... I think that it is a picture of heaven.
I do believe that Jesus is the way to heaven, and there is no way around that. Only He could ever be enough to take care of our sin so that we can come into the presence of God. But I also believe, like in the cemetery, that souls once defined as Catholic, Protestant, or Orthodox, and those without affiliation or other affiliations will rest side by side in heaven, worshipping the One who made the way for them to get there. The divisions will be gone, along with the tears, the shame, the hurt, and everything else we will leave behind on this earth. Who we put our trust in is the key to heaven and abundant life on earth- not which affiliation or building we think He belongs to.
The ground at the cemetery was level... as is the ground at the cross. For those of you thinking that any part of you divides you from the celebrations of heaven, take it to the cross and ask Him if He will take it for you. The answer will be yes.

Time to vote

Though elections are everywhere, this post has nothing to do with that... what I need is your help. I have been trying to downsize my things for the last few months, and today marked another milestone. This inland Canadian girl, survivor of decades of Prairie winters, put into the givaway bag and got rid of... my Sorel's. I am a Prairie winter girl who no longer has any -40C boots. So please vote to clear or condemn my conscience - am I still Canadian?

Hey, did you ask the Lord to humble you lately?

Last week was the last adventure race of the season... Race the Rockies Urban Adventure Race in Edmonton... awesome. It is an introductory race designed to introduce new people to the sport without scaring the crap out of them.
My (awesome and amazing and buff) partner were making good time to checkpoint 2. We were with the elites, making good choices, making good time. We had found our way through the bottle neck opening across the river - we were minutes away from a much needed break and change of discipline (our butts hurt and needed off our bikes for a while). 5 minutes away from the checkpoint, navigating our final road - we asked God which way to go... and the answer was SO CLEAR... "Go back to Checkpoint 1 - you totally forgot to do it."
Checkpoint 1 is about a 10km bike ride away, and it's not flat. We were within a few blocks on our way by the first time. ARG! - but so funny. Lessons from this approximately 3 hour mistake (bike time + fatigue) include but are not limited to:
1 - The title of this blog is the question I asked my partner on the bike ride back... going back the opposite way, passing almost every team that is now ahead of you, is a very humbling thing. And I did get asked a few times "is this your first race?" "Ummm... nope."
2 - Even though they're all going the right way, they all questioned their direction because of one team going back the opposite way... 31 teams were going with the flow. The opposite way? - just us;)
3 - We were so focused on that tight river crossing that we totally forgot the next step... my partner is very detailed, and I am a big picture person. We wrote down street for street our entire day. Still, we both missed the elephant on the map labeled Checkpoint 1.
4 - BUT - our communication was awesome. We were on the same page all the way.
5 - AND - our attitudes were pretty good too - we had a wonderful day (though it ended up being 9.5 hours)... we were fatigued and dehydrated and needed real food, but enjoyed the whole day. Yes, it is tempting to give up, but we didn't let it be an option. Wow the Edmonton river valley is something, and with great company and the chance to explore it, it was a dream day.
So that's the nutshell... hope you got a laugh out of it, we sure did:)

PS - As another part of the race, we had to swim across the North Saskatchewan on September 27th... some of you (especially those I've been to Costa Rica with) know just how significant that is for me... BRRR...

Loving a Stranger

I am no template of Christ's compassion, but I know it's something He wants to develop in me. So every now and then, because He is faithful to that goal, He shows me someone and lets me experience a bit of how He feels for them.
It happened tonight walking home from work. As I passed by a random stranger, there was a huge rush of love and compassion for him in my heart. A deep love and feeling of understanding towards him, an intricate knowledge of God's love for Him. I didn't know how to act on it in that moment, in that place, but the experience opened a door in my heart.
You see, on that day, feelings of compassion were far from my mind. As I walked, my thoughts rested on someone else and were far from loving and understanding. Someone who has hurt me and I don't know what to do about it.
In that contrasting moment - feelings of love and compassion towards a stranger vs. a lack of those feelings towards someone I know - God spoke to me. He asked me how it could be so... this compassion for a stranger and not for a friend. "They hurt me" I answered... sent me into protection mode. Active love and compassion require vulnerability, and their actions had sent me into hiding and unable to receive God's own for them.
"You hurt Me." He said... "but I died on the cross for you anyways... I love you that much. I have that much compassion towards you." He hasn't gotten jaded by my daily attempts to push Him away; my multiple promises to draw near and subsequent multiple failures to be still that long; my lack of trust and faith that sprout weeds in every part of my life.
And He made it clear in the same moment, the reason He gave me that intense glimpse into His love for that stranger. It's something He wanted me to taste because it's something He wants to develop in me. It's something He can see even when there's no evidence... because HE planted it there. He wants us to live out our full potential, even more than we don't want to live empty, regretful lives. There is an antidote... it was Him in the flesh, it is He in the Spirit, it is Him who made us and knows us full well.
Someday when I am old, it will be these experiences that will appear in memory to remind me that I had chances to make good choices for an amazing life... I hope to be writing about that journey someday, and not the one I wished I had had. The same for all of you... most of you are in the first halves of your lives, and none of you are dead yet:) - it's not too late to be still and know He's God. I guarantee He has something to say to you.

Testify

It's not every day that I'm aware of God looking out for me in a profound way. I know He always does, and I'm sure if my eyes could see day to day all the places He intervenes on my behalf, I would be amazed... all of us would be. But 2 times in the last 2 weeks, things that should have happened didn't... and when they didn't, God let me see that it was because of Him.

The first happened as I was taking my bike off of my roof-rack. I am not tall enough to get it off without opening the door and standing on the back seat. I also don't have enough upper body strength to pull the fork off the holder without a little inertia. So as I was yanking my bike upwards, using my body as momentum, I fell. Holding the bike above my head, I couldn't hold on to anything or brace my fall. But mid-slip, I stopped... abruptly and completely stopped falling. In that moment, I was very aware of a world that I cannot see.

The second event was on Sunday evening. I was driving back from Manning (1 hr north of Peace River) after a weekend with some great friends. In a very rural place, at dusk, I drove over a peice of tangled steel that lay completely across one lane of the highway. This piece of steel should have given me a flat... but it didn't. As I drove the rest of that beautiful, deserted lonely road, I knew it once again - He was watching over me.


So, that's it... just wanted to testify of His care over me... may I continue to see it in my life, may you see it in yours too.