There aren't too many things that I consider myself to be an "expert" on. I'm "pretty good" or even "good" at some things, but there's nothing that I'm really "accomplished" at or that I would feel comfortable giving advice on. The only thing that I think I am anywhere near competent to give advice on is marriage. I have a really good marriage - I cherish it, and my husband.

We had a pretty rocky start, you know. We both were young - I was 22 and Ken was 23 - and we were pretty foolish to boot. It took us more than a few years to "become one"; we didn't understand that it was more than just two people living alongside the other. but as the years went by, we learned to become one; to submit to each other in love and to serve one another humbly, always seeking for the other the highest good.

I am not bragging here. That we have a tremendous marriage is nothing other than a grace and I give all the glory to God for his mercy towards us.

And I pray the same for you.

I regularly pray for you, and your husbands and your marriages. Sometimes I pray "in bulk" - that is I make intercession for all the marriages of all my friends and family, but very often the Lord will put one of you on my heart and then I will pray specifically for that particular couple.

If you're wondering if I've ever prayed for you and your marriage, I can tell you that if you read this blog even semi-regularly, I have prayed for you.*smile* A good marriage is such a profound gift from God that I can't help but wish it for everyone.
I hope that knowing that someone is praying for your marriage is an encouragement to you.

To my American friends

Joining with you today to give thanks to God for all His good and gracious gifts, chief among them the salvation that He has won for us through His Son's perfect life, death and resurrection. All thanks and praise be unto God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ!

Happy Thanksgiving!

My only hope

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,

let me hide myself in thee;

let the water and the blood,

from thy wounded side which flowed,

be of sin the double cure;

save from wrath and make me pure.

Not the labors of my hands

can fulfill thy law's commands;

could my zeal no respite know,

could my tears forever flow,

all for sin could not atone;

thou must save, and thou alone.

Nothing in my hand I bring,

simply to the cross I cling;

naked, come to thee for dress;

helpless, look to thee for grace;

foul, I to the fountain fly;

wash me, Savior, or I die.

While I draw this fleeting breath,

when mine eyes shall close in death,

when I soar to worlds unknown,

see thee on thy judgment throne,

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,

let me hide myself in thee.

Words: Augustus Toplady, 1776. Music: Thomas Hastings, 1830.

gratitude

I do not show my thanks as I should. Ever.

I do not even know all the Good that I ought to acknowledge.

But I offer my weak and feeble thanks nonetheless, knowing that even for that much I owe a debt of thanks to You.

He takes after my side of the family

My son Kirk is tall and gangly like his father. Well, gangly like his father used to be at that age. I met Ken at precisely the age Kirk is now. I keep expecting Kirk to look and act like Ken did then, but he doesn't.

In fact, he takes after my brother Stephen quite a bit; so much so that it's kind of eerie. He resembles him quite a bit physically, but that's not where it ends. He talks like Stevey. His tone and phrasing and choice of words - Stevey. Gestures, mannerisms, quirks - all Stevey. Even a lot of Kirk's attitudes and the way he looks at the world remind me more of Stephen than they do of his father.

Truthfully, it frightens me. A lot.

I don't think I've ever said much about my brother Stephen. I might have mentioned "my crazy brother" in passing, but I'm pretty sure I've never blogged any particulars. Stephen is currently estranged from our entire family. And when I call him "crazy" I actually mean it. As in he has a mental illness.

It's very difficult for me to talk about him. I have very mixed up, jumbled feelings about him and I have a hard time keeping any objectivity. He has, by his actions, hurt our family very deeply. A part of me understands that it's his disease that makes him like this, but another part of me wants - needs - to hold someone (him!) responsible for the havoc that he wrought on us.

It was around the age that Kirk is now, maybe a little earlier, that Stephen first started to exhibit signs of mental instability. I remember that out of the blue he would become unreasonable, irrational even, over small little things. And he seemed angry a lot of the time.

This is why I am frightened. I am seeing some signs in Kirk that worry me. He seems overwhelmed by the everyday. He has a hard time coping with...just everyday life. Well, I know anxiety when I see it and I see it in him. But where I will get weepy when things get tough, Kirk's go-to emotion is anger. It reminds me a lot of Stephen.

Over the years Stephen's quirks grew into full blown mental illness. (Look, I should say upfront, that he has never had a diagnosis, because he refuses to acknowledge that he has a problem. But if you were to spend, oh, I don't know, maybe 30 minutes with him, I'm pretty sure that you'd come away with the same impression. He's just not rational.) But the point is, it started out small. At eighteen it was easy to dismiss his peculiarities as teenage angst. Teenagers are known to be moody, so it wasn't that hard to attribute his radical mood swings to hormones. And because Stephen moved out of the house when he was only 19, his illness was hidden to us a great deal of the time...but it grew.

This morning Kirk had "an episode". I came downstairs to find him weeping as he should have been leaving for work. I was alarmed and asked him what what wrong. He couldn't answer - he honestly didn't know. He said the moment his alarm went off and he had to get up for work, he burst into tears. The thought of having to go into work was utterly overwhelming to him. And the fact of this made him bewildered and angry all at the same time. Now, understand that for months now, I've been wavering, wondering if I'm really seeing what I think I'm seeing. But you know, people don't just wake up in the morning and fall apart because they have to go to work. That's not normal. So this morning I decided that I'm not going to wait and wonder any longer. We have a history of mental disorders in our family and it is entirely possible, if not likely, that Kirk could develop one too.

So after breakfast I called the doctor. I told them what I saw and I told them what I suspected and I made an appointment to have Kirk come in to talk to the doctor. And then I worried all day how Kirk would react. *weak smile*

But maybe, just maybe he's not like Stevey after all. Because Kirk didn't get angry and deny that he was having problems. He didn't try to justify his behaviour and try to manipulate me into thinking I was overreacting. He was relieved. And grateful. And hopeful that there is help out there for him.

I understand how hard it can be to open up to someone and tell them that you're having a hard time coping - period. That everything in life is brittle, and harsh and too bright...and there's no good reason why it should feel like that. I remember those bleak days, and when I think of my son having to endure them, it feels like my heart is being squeezed right out of my chest.

As always, Jesus is my consolation. I feel like I'm hanging on to Him with my fingernails, but I know that isn't true. If it were up to me and my strength, I would have let go by now. It is He who holds onto me. And that gives me more comfort than I can describe. I wish I could wax poetic about it but his faith of mine isn't the most elegant. I seem to lack the eloquence to give voice to all that it is to me. But it is a sturdy faith. Servicable and practical. And pointed firmly towards the cross, the only place I'm sure of. It is the faith that God has given me and like all His good gifts, it is sufficient.

Thank you Jesus, for sending your Holy Spirit to sanctify me and keep me in the true faith. This hasn't exactly been my best year ever, but by faith like Job I can say, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him."

A short update

I have my hands full with teenage angst right now. *One* teenager in particular. Our whole family covets your prayer right now. It feels like everything is coming apart at the seams right now. Things will settle down eventually - they always do - but while we're in the midst of it its hard to remember that we are being held in His hands. I hate sin. I hate that there is sin in the world and that it infects me and those that I love. I hate that despite the fact that I am a new creation in Christ, the old Adam still resides in me and I sin and I despair over it. I need the Eucharist desperately. I have no strength of my own and I need the body and blood of my Lord. I can't wait until Sunday. If I called my pastor he would come and bring it to me but I hesitate to call because then he might see how horribly wrong things are in our lives. What is the matter with me that this pride would keep me from the comfort and strength offered to me in the supper?

I am outside on the back porch listening to it rain. Its coming down pretty steady. Ever since I've been little I have liked to be out under shelter while its raining. I don't know what it is exactly but there is something about it that makes me feel cozy and safe.

Its been storming for a couple of hours now. We had some real scary winds earlier as well as thunder and lightening but its just raining now. We are still under a severe thunderstorm/tornado warning though I think the worst is over. For now it is cool and less humid out - a welcome respite.

I have the lights down low so as not to attract insects here where I am sitting. There's a couple of big, hairy moths (shudder!) hanging around the door, attracted to the light inside I suppose.

I'm just about ready to head up to bed. Don't laugh (Sara!). I don't actually go to sleep this early. It takes me a few minutes to get my jamas on and brush my teeth etc. Then I either read my bible (currently reading Acts - in my NKJV study bible) or sometimes I read commentary material. Or, if I'm in the middle of a particularly good novel I read that *grin* but - try not to do that too often. I like reading the bible, but its also a habit...a discipline if you will - and one I'm thankful for so I try to nurture it and not let something else replace it.

Anyways, I read for about half an hour and then I fluff up my pillows, put my earplugs in, turn out the lights ans lie down to pray. Now THAT is a bad habit that I wish I hadn't developed because I often drift off to sleep while I am in prayer! (But I must admit that the reason that I find it a hard habit to break is that I find it peaceful falling asleep while praying. My thoughts are serene, focussed on God's goodness and mercy and off I go...)

Well, speaking of which, its time I headed up. The cat is meowing loudly at me to let me know that its past bedtime. I am not the only creature of habit around here! G'night, all.

Anita and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

I had a bad day today. Not at home - at work. It was so rotten I really don't even want to blog about it. I feel all weepy and mopey and I just wish I had my mommy right now. You ever have one of those days?

Sometimes, when I read about other women who have quiet time (or devotions, or whatever you want to call it) and how close they feel to the Lord during those times, I feel a bit jealous...and a bit like maybe there's something wrong with me. That closeness, that sense that Jesus is present - that doesn't happen for me. Times like this, when I'm feeling down and really discouraged, I wish I could go to my Bible, or into prayer, and really feel like Jesus is right there with me.

When I spend time in the Word, it's more of an intellectual thing for me. It's almost...well, work. That is not to say that there are not times when the Word speaks comfort to me, or that I can't find beauty in the Scriptures. But when I read God's Word, I'm looking, working, digging for something. I must concentrate and it takes effort. I might find meaning, deeper understanding, or relevance, but I've never had an experience where it felt like I was spending time alone with Jesus.

I am not a great pray-er. I must say - thankfully, joyfully - that this is an area where I have seen God's grace at work over the years. Praying comes easier than it used to and I do feel something approaching closeness when I am in prayer...but in truth, there is still a part of me that feels disconnected. As if my prayers must cross a great distance. I have never had a feeling like Jesus is right next to me and we're just talking.

I don't want to make it sound like I'm putting my trust in a feeling. I know, whether it feels like it or not, that Jesus is present. And I don't mean to imply that because I don't have a strong emotional response to being in prayer or in the Word that somehow my faith is not authentic.

It's just that I long for contact. Sometimes I wish that Jesus was right here and that he'd give me a hug. (And how dumb is that? I mean, the Creator of the universe - for the sake of a miserable sinner like me - came down from his throne in heaven, suffered the indignity of becoming a helpless child, lived a blameless life in my place and suffered a horrible and unrighteous death so that I might be reconciled to God...and I'm complaining that I want a hug??)

But isn't that what we all want? Some contact? A friendly voice to comfort us? (Beth, is it any wonder that I picked tonight to call??) Something tangible to hang onto in the midst of pain and confusion? And you know what? I think God knows this about us and understands. More, He provided for this very real need that we have - the need to touch and hold onto something solid - by becoming a man and walking with us.

And I think it's also why (or at least part of the reason why) he comes to us bodily in the Eucharist. Because he knows how fragile we are, and how much we need to be able to hold onto Him, not just in a spiritual sense, but in a real, physical way.

I wish I could describe to you exactly what it is like for me when I receive the Body and Blood of the Lord - the very Presence of God - in the Sacrament. I'm not sure that you can understand what that Presence is like any more than I can understand the closeness that some have in prayer and Bible study. I can only tell you that it is real. And not in a subjective way, not a "feeling" that I have (although I do experience it as a feeling too, if you get what I mean).

I believe that the True Presence of the Lord in the Eucharist is an objective thing. I believe it because Christ himself - in his last will and testament before his disciples - says so. I believe He really meant it. When He comes to me in, with and under the bread and the wine, He strengthens me. He comes to me because He knows how much I need what only He has to offer. Forgiveness of sins. Comfort for my hurting soul. Strengthened and renewed faith in His promises. So He comes in a way that I can grab hold of tangibly, so that I may have no doubt whatsoever of His presence.

This went in a way different direction than I thought it would when I first started this post. The Holy Spirit is like that sometimes - the words just come tumbling out of my fingers. I think I've said enough for now.

He's home!

My Brent is home. I have missed him so much and am so happy and relieved to have him back under my roof that I'm probably in danger of caving and giving in to his every unwholesome desire. Ok, not really, but I sure do have some praying and thinking to do. How this will all work out, I don't know, but for now I am thankful to have my son home.

Thank you, Lord, for your tender mercy.

Tragic

This is so incredibly sad.

Daughter of gospel star Steven Curtis Chapman hit, killed by car

Do you remember this song (below), by SCC, from 5 or 6 years ago? It's almost prophetic. I always found the song comforting and shared it with my friends Morley and Heather when they lost their 18 month old son Evan in an accident two years ago.

Lord, send your Spirit to your broken ones.

With Hope

This is not at all how

We thought it was supposed to be

We had so many plans for you

We had so many dreams

And now you've gone away

And left us with the memories of your smile

And nothing we can say

And nothing we can do

Can take away the pain

The pain of losing you, but ...

We can cry with hope

We can say goodbye with hope

'Cause we know our goodbye is not the end, oh no

And we can grieve with hope

'Cause we believe with hope

(There's a place by God's grace)

There's a place where we'll see your face again

We'll see your face again

And never have I known

Anything so hard to understand

And never have I questioned more

The wisdom of God's plan

But through the cloud of tears

I see the Father's smile and say well done

And I imagine you

Where you wanted most to be

Seeing all your dreams come true'

Cause now you're home

And now you're free, and ...

We have this hope as an anchor

'Cause we believe that everything

God promised us is true, so ...

So we can cry with hope

And say goodbye with hope...

We wait with hope

And we ache with hope

We hold on with hope

We let go with hope...

Helpless

And in the same way the Spirit also helps our weaknesses; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words; and He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. Romans 8:26-27

Today I had to ask my son Brent to leave our house. He is gone. I am devastated. Please pray for us.

My Oma

Hi everybody. I have some bad news, my Oma has to have her toes amputated. They are doing it today. Her one leg is ok, but the other one is not getting any better. The circulation in that leg is so impaired that they don't think her toes will ever get better. She's been living with a lot of pain for a long time and given the choice between losing her toes or continuing to live with the pain, I guess losing her toes looked better.

They had two doctors evaluate her to make sure that she understood what she is agreeing to. I guess at her age they have to make sure. I think it's kind of funny because believe me, there's no problem with my Oma's mind, she's as sharp as ever. Still just the thought of it is upsetting to me, you know.

Anyways, I guess I don't have to ask, but I'd sure appreciate it if you would add your prayers to my own.

This is urgent ~Updated~

Last night Kirk fell and cracked his head open. He lost a lot of blood and went into shock. We had to call an ambulance and they took him to the hospital. This was about 4 in the morning. Ken followed after him and I stayed home (for some reason I thought I should stay home "incase somebody calls" - obviously I wasn't thinking clearly). Anyways, Ken called about 6 am to tell me that Kirky had a bed and was sleeping they were waiting for a doctor to see him. That's all I know at this point. We would sure appreciate prayers for him. I'll post more when I know more.

______________________________________

Kirk is back from the hospital now and he'll be ok. This is what happened:

He got up around 3 am to go the bathroom and while he was using the toilet he got lightheaded and fainted. On his way down he bashed his shoulder and head against the corner of the door jamb and cracked his head open, probably when he hit the floor. He remembers coming to briefly and then blacking out. Hope, thankfully heard him go down (she didn't know what the noise was, but it woke her up) and when she didn't hear him come out of the bathroom after about 5 minutes she got concerned and went to check on him. She found him passed out on the floor and bleeding and came and woke us up. Ken got to him first and his first thought was we better get him to the hospital.

Somewhere around this time Kirk came to and I noticed that he had started shivering and I thought it could possibly be shock, so we got blankets on him and I put him in the recovery position incase he lost consciousness again. (I have NEVER been so thankful for having first aid training.) Then we decided maybe we better call an ambulance so Ken called 911. We live just down the street from a fire hall so the firemen got here first and then the paramedics and then the police! And of course having all these emergency people around just made me more nervous. All the commotion woke Brent up and I could see that he was upset, and I couldn't get anywhere near Kirk with all the people around him so I went and sat with Brent and I quietly prayed.

Anyways, they checked Kirk out for possible neck injuries but he seemed ok, so they took him out to the ambulance and to the hospital. Ken went after him and I stayed home. They got him all checked out - ran a bunch of tests to see if they could find an underlying reason why he fainted in the first place, but they didn't find anything. It was most likely a sudden drop in blood pressure from going to the bathroom. He had to have 7 stitches in his head and they patched up the big gash on his shoulder and sent him home. He has to take it easy for a few days and we have to wake him up every 3 hours to check for cognitive impairment, which I guess is pretty standard OP after a head injury.

So I am staying home today to keep an eye on him. He's sleeping right now and I have to get him up in about an hour to check him.

All thanks to God who answers prayers!

My arm hurts

I don't want to sound like a whiner, but my arm hurts. It has been hurting for about 2 weeks now. This happens from time to time, but I haven't had a flare up like this in almost 2 years. What is causing the pain is a mystery. All the tests that my doctor has sent me for come up negative and because it comes and goes it makes it extra hard to diagnose.

Anyways, after two weeks the pain starts to wear on me. I'm grumpy half the time and weepy the other half. The pain interferes with my ability to sleep well, which doesn't help matters. I'm just plain worn out!

So I'm probably not going to be blogging until my arm is better - I shouldn't be doing this much.

Anybody who's inclined to pray about this, I would be grateful.

Couldn't we pray?

~ For Beth's sil who is getting the results of a bone marrow test today. http://twolittlevikings.blogspot.com/2008/02/prayer-request.html

~ For Kari Murphy who is having serious health difficulties.

~ For Sharon's mom with kidney problems. http://sharonsroses.blogspot.com/2008/02/god-is.html

~ For Denise with ongoing diabetes related health concerns.
http://shortybearsplace.blogspot.com/

~ For my dear friends Jenny and Galen who are expecting their second child.

~ For my coworker Craig and his wife Ingrid who are also expecting their second child.

~ For Hope who had to be hospitalized last week for flu related dehydration.

So many health concerns. Such a gracious God who hears our cries.

You won't believe what just happened...

I am at work right now and we just got a visit from some Jehovah's Witnesses!

I sit right at the front of the office and you can't get into the office with out me seeing you. So they stopped and asked if they could leave some "reading material" for our break time. I politely declined, saying that I have examined and rejected their teachings as being unbiblical and they quickly left.

I wish I had had more time and an opportunity to speak the true gospel to them! If you have a minute, will you please pray that the Lord would direct these lost souls to people and places where they will hear the gospel in truth and purity? Thanks!

Evangelism by prayer

I want to share this idea with you. I'm sure I am not the first person to think of this; in fact I'm not sure I even came up with the idea - I think it may be more accurate to say that the Spirit inspired me.

God has been making me bolder for Him - I have been doing my best to resist. Typically I shy away from evangelizing in a direct, proclamatory way. I've always assumed that people will be turned off by an in-your-face approach, so I've opted for more of a stealth approach. I am (and probably always will be) more comfortable "living the message" and making indirect references to my faith, saying things like "God bless you" and "I'll pray for you". And hey, there's nothing wrong with that approach. We are called to be salt and light, and it lends credibilty when our lives are consistent with the message that we profess.

God only knows why, but He has been putting people squarely in my path who are practically screaming to have the Gospel preached to them. Hurting people who need to hear the consolation that only the life-giving Gospel gives. People who need to hear the words, "Your sins are forgiven". In their time of desperate need, how can I withhold the Gospel from them? How can I justify staying in my comfort zone, consoling myself that I can be a "living Gospel" to them? So I've been trying to be more bold, you know? But leaving ones comfort zone can be hard.

One day not too long ago, I came face to face with one of those hurting people. And as I struggled to put the Gospel into words that I thought weren't too "preachy" or "pushy" (comfort zone, people) I was suddenly struck- I mean, thunderbolt of lightning, out of nowhere, where did that come from? - with an impulse to pray for this person. So I stopped midway in sentence and asked, "Could we pray together?" She gave her assent and so we clasped hands and I prayed.

And the Holy Spirit poured forth! My mouth was filled and before I knew it I was boldly proclaiming the sweet Gospel that Jesus died for her sins so that she might live! All praise and glory to God - the Gospel has been proclaimed!

Since that day, I have had two more opportunities to bring the Word and both times I asked if we could pray. Nobody has said no, and it has opened up a door for me to be bold in a way I never would have before. For some reason, in prayer I am able to pour forth the Word clearly, boldly and unambiguously. I thank God for this.

Anyways, I thought I would share this because perhaps you may want to try this also.

Home for the holidays

Or I guess it would be more accurate to say quarantined for the holidays.

Yes, the flu has made it's appearance in our home. Alli came down with it on Saturday and each day thereafter another one of us has succumbed to it. This is the first day since Christmas that I have felt almost human again.

I also wanted to let you know that my Oma had her surgery. She is recovering well from the surgery itself, but it does not look like the procedure has helped her feet. She may not lose her feet (ie. have to have them removed) but she will almost certainly lose the use of them. Still, I am praying for the best possible outcome.

Hope you all had a good Christmas. I am going back to bed!

A prayer request

My Oma (grandma) is in need of prayer. She developed celulitis (ulcers, basically) in her feet earlier this fall and due to circulatory problems in her legs the ulcers have never really healed. She is now in danger of losing her feet and possibly a leg. The only option is to have bypass surgery on her legs.

Of course, at 86 years old, surgery carries greater risks, so I would ask that you pray for Oma and for her surgeons. She will be having the surgery just as soon as a bed is available - hopefully sometime this weekend.

Oma is in quite good spirits though. When told that among the complications was the possibility that she could die, she responded "That's ok too."

I'm not really afraid that Oma will die. She has been lonely since my Opa died in 2003 and she has said flat out that she is ready to die. Once she said, "Who knew it would take so long to die?" She is basically just waiting to go home, so if she dies I am comforted in knowing that she desires to be with her Saviour. I am actually more worried that they won't be able to save her feet/leg. If they can't, they will have to remove them. That frightens me.

They expect that she will be in hospital for about 2 weeks after the surgery to recover, so we're talking right over Christmas. My aunt Trudy is coming from Australia after Christmas to look after Oma when she gets home.

I will keep you updated as I hear more. Thank you to everyone who is willing to lift up this need.

Love thine enemy

When Alli was in grade 2, she had a teacher that I didn't like very much. I'm not going to say why I found her unlikeable. There were reasons, you know. But I'm not going to go into it - it'll just sound like I'm trying to justify my sin of being uncharitable. Suffice it to say she wasn't one of my favourite people.

Anyways, at the beginning of that school year the headmaster asked for parent volunteers to become prayer warriors for the teaching staff. If you were willing, they would "assign" you to a teacher to pray over for the year.

My first thought was, "Great! I'd love to do that!"

My second (horrified) thought was, "But what if they give me Miss I-Don't-Like-Her to pray for???"

Then my third (reluctant) thought was, "I guess if I'm unwilling to pray for her, then she is the one I should be praying for."

Gulp.

So I didn't volunteer to be a prayer warrior; instead I began praying on my own for the teacher I didn't like. It was nothing less than the prompting of the Holy Spirit that caused me to do so. In the beginning I didn't exactly pray enthusiastically for her...but I didn't do so begrudgingly either. It was somewhere in between I guess. I prayed rather self-consciously at first, with the feeling that my prayers were somewhat hypocritical. I still felt kinda ambivalent towards her and I figured God could see that in my heart.

It was a good lesson for me. I'd like to say that we ended up becoming bestest friends, but the reality is that by the end of the school year...I still didn't care for her all that much. BUT. I discovered that I didn't have to have the warm fuzzies for somebody in order to intercede on their behalf. And I found that over time I no longer felt that my prayers were hypocritical. Praying for someone that I don't like all that much is not much different than praying for someone I love - neither, in their natural sinful state, deserves God's merciful eye turned toward them...yet Jesus died for both. And I discovered this as well: liking her personally was not a prerequisite for wanting God to bestow his gifts on her. I thought at first I might be tempted to pray that God change those things about her that I didn’t like (ok, I’m not always this shallow), but I found that over time I prayed that He would work on MY heart – to be more patient and compassionate and to overcome my uglier feelings for her.

I don't know what made me think of this, but I just thought I would share it.