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Saturday, 21 November 2009
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Us/Them
Recently I heard a recorded message about some Christian concept that I don't distinctly recall now. What I do remember is that the speaker gave an illustration using the war in Iraq. Speaking in America, to other Americans, he mentioned some military technology that "helps us in the war against them."
At that point, I clocked out. I cannot think about it without feeling ill and angry. When people who say they love God and want Christ's life are people who take up sides against other people for whom Christ died and for whom God weeps, I am angry. I cannot believe that bearing Spirit fruit has agreement with being glad when America's tools for murder are better than the foreigners' tools.
This is not about being anti-American or pacifist. It is grief about how terribly many of us are doing at incarnating the love of Christ to our world, wherever we live. I often remember Philip Yancey's words in Disappointment with God. He was writing about people in many kinds of pain who long to see God and hear from Him. Yancey says in response: "My friend may never hear God's audible voice or see writing in the sky with a message from Him. He will only see me."
This is the question I've been praying about alot this week. In this situation, in that difficulty, in this present moment with this person, how can I be as Christ in their/my world? I cannot believe that Christ would rejoice when "our" tools can obliterate the "enemy" better than they used to. God have mercy.
Wednesday, 04 November 2009
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Safe
Yesterday afternoon I was at home for a couple hours, and my landlord and his plumber came to fix some leaking radiators and toilet valves. I had to leave for work at the store while they were still here. A couple hours later, the landlord came to the store to drop off the key. They had finished their job, locked the door behind them, and gave me the key.
My German friend was with me, and I explained to her what happened, and why. Her eyes got big. "In Germany, I would NEVER leave people in my house while I went away."
I would be cautious too, under normal circumstances. However, for the last 10+ years I have served these men at our store, and sold them countless ice cream cones and tins of pet food. I know their wives and children by name. I know where they live. I trust them and they trust me. This is a benefit of long-term local employment.
Today there was news of another tiger kidnapping up the country. This is when criminals kidnap the family of bank workers and hold them for ransom. It's becoming more rampant around here. A month ago or so, a lady down the road was robbed in the middle of the day. Working in a store and living alone, I hear these things, and reiterate my motto: trust God but lock your doors. I try to be sensible and not take chances. Even if I leave the house for a walk down the road, I lock the door. I leave lights on after dark. But I don't live in paranoia. And I feel extremely blest to be able to leave my landlord and plumber in the house and the only disturbed thing I see when I return is the wet rag and bowl in the sink that they used to drain the pipes.
Tuesday, 03 November 2009
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Currently
Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference?
By Philip Yancey
see relatedGod's Gentleness
I know, LORD, that our lives are not our own.
We are not able to plan our own course.
So correct me, LORD, but please be gentle.
--Jeremiah 10:23, New Living Translation
I found this verse recently, and it became my prayer, especially the last phrase, as it came out in a moan. And God has been ever so gentle to me, and is planning my course perfectly. I don't know what He has up His celestial sleeve, but for the present moment He is me giving peace and excitement to go to Poland in July 2010 to teach ESL for 2 yrs.
So much of life and God is mystery. I think He likes it that way somehow. I thought I'd have more answers about life and God by now, but I don't. I only know that He is ever so gentle, and even His severity is a mercy. For this reason, and many others, I love Him very much.
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
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Currently
Mister Pip
By Lloyd Jones
see relatedMy Girls
I'm not a mom, and don't spend any time on mommy forums. And yet, I feel terribly protective and, I don't know, mother-bearish about my girls. My Bible school girls from CBS and SMBI.
I can't stay in touch with all of them, but there are strings stretching from my heart to them wherever they are on the globe. And now and then one will write me to say they're dating or getting married, or tell me of their latest heartbreak, or latest gladness. And I shake my head at these little girls being brides, and smile, and wish I could hug them tight. Or I cry with their sadness, and ask the Shepherd to carry them gently. And I'm soooo proud of them, making wise decisions about their varied life assignments.
Oh, I do love my girls. They have no idea how much I love them and how big I dream for them. I don't know if I'll ever be a mommy. But I know Isaiah 54 is true, that I have more children than the mother with children. For this, I'm rich beyond measure, though unworthy, and thankful beyond words for the breath-taking privileges I've had. For some reason, He chose this bumbling, passionate girl, myself in need of mentors and shepherds, and helped me to be shepherdess and mentor to others, and I am so grateful.
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
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Fun in the sun
So the brother offered to take a handful of us out on his canoe at Rathmoylan cove. We took turns and while the others were taking their turns, I prowled around on the rocks with my 4 yr old nephew, introduced him to snails in the puddles, and rescued him when he bashed his knee and threw away his cap. It was as my sister says: the cove is a perfect playground for children.
Then it was my turn, and we put the 4 yr old in the bottom of the canoe between us. The aim of the game was to paddle out to the mouth of the cove, watch for waves coming in, and ride them in to shore. My brother said it was the best wave of the day. But we were sideways on it, and it gracefully spilled us out. I had in mind to start swimming until I found the water was hardly knee-deep.
The child, however, kept hanging onto the boat and wouldn't join in my glee of being in the water, but screamed that desperate scream that comes from fear. I WANT MAMA! I carried him to the water's edge, and he went screaming over the beach to meet his mom who was bringing a towel to wrap him in. Poor little thing. I was having fun and he was terrified.
I'm sporting a bruised shin and swollen ankle, I guess having bashed it in the tumble. I only wish I would've done it right and swam awhile. As it was, we did another round or so but the waves stopped and I was freezing cold with wet clothes in the wind. A great way to start the week!
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