compassion

The more I learn about Compassion Canada, the more I love the organization! If you've ever been thinking about sponsoring a child, Compassion Canada is definitely better than World Vision (oops, did I just write that out loud?). In my humble opinion. I was at a Compassion conference this weekend and learned...everything! So go ahead...ask me a question...I dare you...

boo. Did you know that Elvis really IS dead? Boy, that shatters a lot of dreams. I guess I'll have to move in at heartbreak hotel.

sheesh

Sheesh, when did time start going so fast?
Good grief, now I sound like a 65 year old grandmother..."time flies dear, and it goes faster the older you get." I believe it though. I've spent the last week being inundated with information about the church, the job, the kids, the volunteers...last night I was sure I was going to explode. That would have been lovely. But instead, I now feel "centered" again, and I need some help! So to anyone who's reading this, what would be a good, original topic for a short devotional on grace? Any genius ideas are welcome...non-genius ideas need not apply...just kidding. ;)
I'll take anything. I already did one on Samson, which was about as random as I could think of.




...just a random photo. although if someone can come up with a connection between it and grace, i'd be eternally obliged!

BLUE

It really is mostly blue - there are just patches that show up better...














see? I did it!

THE TALE OF THE OAK - a short story by Christie

Once upon a time there was a block of wood. The wood's name was Oak. Now Oak was a very beautiful piece of wood, so a girl decided that it would make a very nice pen. So...she chopped it in half with a really noisy saw. It make Oak cry to feel his tendons hacked in two, but what could he do?








Poor Oak felt really cut down to size after that process...and then came the drill. Then he felt as though his heart was being pushed right out of his body. And then, to make matters much worse, the girl laughed at him and used him as a joke. Poor Oak.









But then came the part that Oak hadn't anticipated. He was cruelly put upon a lathe and...whittled? He was chipped and chopped, but slowly he noticed his rough edges coming off. His corners were smooth. He still had bumps and bruises, because, after all, he was Oak. But they were becoming less significant...almost beautiful. But no, what good could come out of this process? It hurt too much.











And then came the part that shocked Oak the most. Whereas before, he had been an ordinary piece of wood in a box, now people were oohing and ahhing at him. They said his curves were magnificent, that his grain was lovely, and that his skin was so smooth. What had happened?










The girl had taken Oak and turned him into something beautiful. Something useful. It had hurt in many ways, but now he was something special.




Hooray for Oak.

psalm 93

The darkness shakes in anticipation. Forbidding waters churn, delighting in the chaos they create. Frothy, expectant peaks rise up out of the shadows. At their base, the smooth, yawning mouth of floodwaters opens up to receive its greatest prize. Life.

Death awaits.

But there is another. It stalks the midnight waters, riding a chariot that blazes with the promise of life. It stalls chaos in its stead. Pallid peaks cower in terror. The cavernous mouth is forced shut. It unleashes its power over the seas. Mightier than the roar of the great waters, Its thundering voice orders the deep into submission. There is no option.

Life prevails.

It is GOD.

a word from the un-wise

If your doctor tells you to lay on your back all day, don't do it in the sun on the hottest day of spring.
Take note.
Learn from my mistakes.

*ouch*

you know you're a redneck when...

you're of the younger female variety and you drive a massive truck...and you fit right in!

a story?

I was hungry. I had thrown my bus money in my pocket in the morning, but forgotten my purse at home. I guess it knew what kind of day I was going to have and didn't want to participate. It was only after I got off the bus that I realized I had no money, no phone, and no food. What was I to do? I sat down on a concrete bench and mulled over my predicament. I felt like I had rocks jostling in my stomach, and my tongue was thick with thirst. Maybe...maybe...if I asked someone for some money, they would take pity on me. So I asked. Unfortunately, I had put on my grungy clothes today. I asked a proffesor-ly looking woman for a couple bucks. Her eyes flickered over me, but she didn't miss a step in her hurry to get to a more important person than me. I asked a university student. He turned out his pockets halfway, shook his head and shrugged in apology. A little later on, I saw him come out of Macs with a slurpee in hand. With my sense of humanity slowly dying inside me, I asked an old woman, a teenager, and another university student, all to no avail. They either gave me a querying look and kept walking, or just turned the other way. By now I was running on an empty tank. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Can people really be that calloused toward another human being? Are our lives really that important that we can't stop to give a hungry person 2 bucks for a sandwich or a bus ride home? Finally, in the midst of the endless mess of people walking by me without a glance, I spotted an elderly man with a walker. He looked like he might at least be walking slow enough that he couldn't politely ignore me if I asked him for a couple bucks. I asked. He shuffled my way. He stopped and looked at me in the eyes, and introduced himself as Albert. He shook my hand and offered to take me to Subway.

My humanity was restored by the touch of a wrinkled hand and a kind gesture from someone who probably received less kindness and patience on a regular basis than me.

So tell me, why is it that we feel justified in walking right by people who ask for help? Why is it that it took a little old man on welfare to buy me a simple lunch?

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. - Jesus Christ


















Always be clothed in white, and always anoint your head with oil. - King Solomon

















He restores my soul.














God is bigger than the boogieman. - Jr. Asparagus
(He's also bigger than a buffalo...)

btw

how does one best go about dying one's hair a noticeable blue?

spanish classes and cafeteria food

Hola! Me llamo Christie y soy de Alberta. Mucho gusto. ¿Cómo está usted? Español es muy dificil! The first person to translate this properly wins a prize.

Do you ever feel like yesterday's cafeteria food? Someone finds you interesting for a day, but after that, you're overrated and smelly, not even worthy of being thrown in the trash...I felt like that last week. Do you ever feel like someone thinks you're denser than a wet sponge? Someone stops communicating with you and thinks you won't notice. Do you ever feel like love (not romantic love, just love in general) causes a lot more pain than joy? It seems like when we love people, we also hurt. The more we love, the more we open ourselves up for pain.

It makes me wonder how God feels. If he by his very nature, is "Love," then he must also feel more pain than any human can ever feel. If I feel hurt by people not communicating with me, how much more pain does he feel? He loves us more than we can ever imagine, yet we constantly ignore him and think he won't notice. Aye, there's the rub. We think God is denser than a wet sponge. I think, "ah, I'll pray tomorrow. I'm not in the mood today. God won't mind. He probably won't even notice. Lot's of other people prayed today." But then I think of how shafted I feel when someone puts me off like that. Can God even feel pain? He must. The prophetic books are filled with God crying out to his people, "why do you keep choosing death? All you have to do is TURN TO ME and I will give you life!" That's a rather loose translation of something in Ezekiel. :) But the point is there. God loves us and wants to be with us. Obviously we don't really value a relationship with him, otherwise we wouldn't act like he's a dufus.

Do I act as if God is as dense as a wet sponge?

am i anxious?

Jon just asked me if I am nervous. Right now the woman from my potential job is on her way home to call me. Am I anxious? To be honest, not terribly. I'm excited, but not worried. Someway, somehow, I got to the point where anxiousness became a moot point and trust became paramount. How did it happen? At this moment, I can visualize my life going on two different paths, and me loving them both. Why? Because "the LORD will fulfill his purpose for me." Psalm 138 tells me that. The phone is ringing.

And now, half an hour later, I have been un-officially offered the Children's Ministry Director position! It's pretty incredible to know that this church feels like I would do right by them, that they have confidence in me, even though they don't know me well. AHHHHHH!! A little bit of anxiousness is now trying to get its cold tentacles into my heart. What if I can't get along with the people? What if baptism turns out to be a bigger issue than I thought? What if I can't do it? What if what if what if...but it's too easy to be strangled with 'what if's. I am reminded of a verse I memorized years ago..."do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:6, 7) It's the verse that everyone quotes for seemingly every situation, but I think that's going to be my life-verse for the next little while.

superman-style

Why is it that life changes faster than a speeding bullet?

Last week, I was totally prepared to leave my job and move to a comfortable one from the same denomination on the other side of town. This week I'm hopefully preparing to be a Children's Ministry Director in a church from a different denomination in a different town.
Last week I was thinking how nice our home was, and how I hoped to be here for many more moons. This week, the time has come to think about moving out.
Last week I was frustrated with all the decisions I had to make. This week I'm pumped.
Last week I had no new clothes. This week I do.
Last week I was messy. This week I am clean.
Last week I was bored and lazy. This week I feel driven.
Last week, I was a dummy in the car. This week, I could win a driving award.
Last week, life was complicated. This week, it's even more complicated.
Hm.
I like speeding bullets. They make the story of my life actually pique my interest.

Eyeball ruminations

Did you know that it really is possible to sneeze your eyeballs right out of your head? Check out the most fascinating article I've read in ages. At 12:30 am it strikes me as particularly hilarious. :)