Psalm 90

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Some graffiti spotted on my daily walk – we need this reminder!

Listening to this psalm through a worship song brings back a day to day posture I need right about now. With restrictions in full force, there seems to be disappointment, and just fatique with so many of us.

These are days when almost anyone in Canada and much of the world, cannot plan. Summer is a reach away, yet we wait. Plans delayed, barriers up, we wait. Community for many on a standstill. Grief, celebration once experienced collectively, now paused.

Here we find ourselves. And here below is a Psalm. This Psalm is one that has surprised me with hope. May it do the same for you. It’s a song, a prayer rather that allows us to become aware of something greater than our circumstances. Here before us is the ever-abiding truth that there is one greater who numbers our days. He is the one who can reach us and speak to us. Can you imagine being satisfied? Listen to the song below and hear your heart sing the melody. Belt it out if it resonates with your spirit. Who is tired? Weary? Sing it out. As the psalmist prays, so I will join:

“So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom…

Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.”

A Moment of sunshine…

Today, I found myself waiting on a patio. Sun shining warmly on my face, I felt the reprieve of relaxing on my longed for day off. My daughter Mikayla was in line, buying her favorite flat white. While I waited, a conversation struck up with those sitting around me. What made this moment memorable was that we were all strangers on a patio who began to talk to one another. Sun warming all of us, we chatted about coffee, countries, puppies and daily life. Three separate tables were joined by one conversation. My daughter came out with her coffee and entered into the lively conversation discovering with us common threads we all shared.

There was something amazing that happened in those minutes on the patio. We discovered that three of us had been influenced by YWAM in New Zealand and that all of us were not native to the city we found ourselves in. All of us newcomers in the same city. All of us experiencing a slow pandemic, away from most family, friends and familiarity. Yet all of us here, on this patio, enjoying the same brew of coffee, the same warm sunshine and the same entertaining conversation.

Most of us these days are missing the times when we would see family and friends whenever our hearts desired. Our cup, we feel, would feel more full with the bustle of all of our relationships. The ache and pangs of loneliness would not strike us with the force it now does if we were free to mingle with those we love.

But would we have space for the stranger in the way we can now? Would we see our neighbour, notice the lonely and see those who are without? What my daughter and I couldn’t help but pay attention to today was how incredibly eager and open the folks were whom we chatted on the patio with. Here on this patio, in the middle of our city, we experienced connection with a group of strangers on a Saturday afternoon.

I think all of us in these last 12 months, have felt weary. We’ve all felt alone, and disappointed. At times we’ve felt despair. Theologian Albert Schweitzer summed it up when he stated,

“At some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame in an encounter with another human being. We should be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit. “ Albert Schweitzer

Let’s face it, we are made for each other. Our lives gain meaning as we identify and journey with others. The apsotle Paul, unable at times to see the people he loved, penned the following words in 1 Thessalonians 3:11 “Now may our God and Father himself, and our Lord Jesus, direct our way to you, and may the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, as we do for you.”

So may this season bring a ray of connection and hope to you when you least expect it in these often trying times.

Hope & reflections…

Happy New Year! As I reflect on the past few months, months we all will NEVER forget, I have some reflections …

what is it I miss about community, about gathering with friends and extended family?

It’s the relationships. It’s the rich wealth we gain when we share our journey together. There is joy as we gather around a shared table. We share our struggles. We share our joys. It is here where we laugh and share our hopes and our fears. It is here where we eat. It is here where we enjoy the present moment, thankfully looking back on the past, hopefully gazing at the future. It is here where we make sense of our world. It is here where we ask questions, curiously caring for our neighbour. We share our faith. We pray. This is where we share our humanity. We have so much in common here. It’s here where we feel like we are not alone afterall.

I heard from another leader once that there are 3 things you want to find out from others …

Where have they been?

Who are they connecting with these days?

What are they learning?

There is mystery as we gather, connect and meet together. Jesus prioritized relationship. We see this manifested in all of his life. We see it in his questions, his way of eating together, walking together and sharing in our humanity.

So as we lament that this opportunity has been absent this season, we can hope for days to come. Days when we once again set the table, prepare the meal and invite our friends.

It is here where encouragement flows, vision is ignited, weary souls get refreshed. It is around the table, where relief is found as burdens are shared. It is here around the table where we can hope again.

So as we step into 2021, we can lament for the loss of the hope we would otherwise have had around the table. We can ask the above questions to friends and family over zoom. We can practice a prayerful presence, ever-aware of the hope of Christ. He meets us in the silence, in the quiet, in the stillness. And we can hope and look forward to the days, those precious days around the table again.

Hope this Christmas

what a strange and foreign season we all find ourselves in! I don’t know about you, but sometimes I find this season so unfamiliar it feels like thick darkness. There are times, when I can relate to what the author of Isaiah writes about. Before we read about Jesus, the Messiah prophesied in Isaiah, we read about how people will be thrust into thick darkness. (Isaiah 8:22) It sounds heavy, and perhaps not my reality. But to be honest, I see so, so many who’s story this is true. They are alone, isolated and afraid. Thick darkness can be how some of us feel during this time of isolation. I see it all around me, a heaviness as people are forced to celebrate, to lament, to ponder, to be alone.
It’s interesting because just a sentence away from Isaiah 8:22, we read in Isaiah 9 that “The people who have walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness on them has light shone. You have multiplied the nation; you have increased its joy“ (9: 2). Later we read the familiar verses announcing the event that will change all lives of those who allow. “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end.” (Isaiah 9:26-7) We have yet to turn the corner in this pandemic season. We have yet to see the great light, an increase of joy. Yet, we have this light and this joy amidst the struggle. We have Jesus, our great hope, with us, giving us this light and joy.

An evening of light & joy…

May you all experience hope this Christmas.

Joy to the World…

On the way home from work, with traffic all around me and the stress of the busy week from work on my shoulders, I heard to this recent recording of Joy to the World. What happened next was compelling.

To explain, every day I have the honour of helping families during their worst moment. No one asks for loss, yet all of us experience it. If we haven’t experienced it yet, it will come. As humans, we face loss. We grieve.

Yet, hearing Joy to the World today as the sun was set behind the mountains, I was swept away to my childhood Christmases. Christmases when we would pack in our station wagon and head to the country to visit our Grandparents. At those family gatherings my grandpa would gather us all around and express his thanks to God. “He’s been so good to us,” he would say, “so, so good.” And he would exclaim just how thankful he and my grandma were for God’s goodness. I remember as a young child feeling so right, so content, so in awe of my grandfather’s faith, his utter thankfulness. It was humbling. After expressing thankfulness, we would break into song, and Joy to the World is what we would sing, every Christmas.

As we packed our bags at the end of the evening, arms full of goodies, food, and freshly unwrapped presents, our family would load into the station wagon and head to our next family gathering, in the next prairie town. I felt full, content, joyful. Heading down the cold, crispy, dark prairie roads, I felt the joy that my grandfather spoke about. There is joy in this world. Christ came to us. He’s here. Among us. In the pandemic. In the midst of our loss, our sorrow, our struggle, our isolation. He came thousands of years ago to us. He came as one of us. To be with us. To save us. To give us hope, joy and peace. Christ Jesus is Joy to the World.

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Our stream….

Right now I’m listening to the sound of the creek outside of our balcony. It’s a beautiful sound of rushing water. With our window open at night, we hear this sound as we drift off to sleep. It’s magestic.

This morning with a few hours off work, I’m on our balcony. It is our second last day here in our apartment! Time to move to a larger space. But here I am, listening to the rush of water. For some reason, it’s possible to block the sound of traffic to hear the rush of the current. We’ve seen deer, otter, ducks and birds enjoy this stream. I won’t miss the cramped space we’ve been tucked away in, but I will miss this stream.

Watching the chosen last night has me contemplating on John 4 when Jesus meets the woman at the well. Something that Jesus communicates in the film is that he gives the woman the message that he came to Samaria for her. He went through Samaria for her. Ever felt the hope of Jesus coming for you? This is what he demonstrates in the passage. He comes for us.

What strikes me today about John 4, is that Jesus, met her and He promises to meet us, today in whatever struggles, burdens, hopes, dreams we have. For the woman at the well, there was a moment after Jesus spoke of her life, where she felt known. But not known in an ashamed way of being known. Somehow Jesus could tell her everything she ever did, and communicate love in a supernatural way, that she was not paralyzed with shame. She felt known, accepted, loved, forgiven, redemed. And this is the hope that Jesus offers us. He can truly know us; all the flaws, the mistakes, the failures. He can forgive us, truly accept us and deeply, change us. This is the love that I want to be a part of – a love that invites, accepts, forgives, transforms. Perhaps these are the kind of people we can be. And we can be this everywhere; on social media, in our conversations, in our actions and in our thoughts. We can be known by Jesus and know others like this as well; forgiven, accepted, invited, and changed. We can be free….may we taste some of this reality today.

“Whoever drinks the water that I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water that I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” – Jesus (John 4: 14)

Never alone…

I have the privellge of walking with various individuals and families through loss.  What struck me this week was the eyes of an elderly man.   After sharing briefly on his life fighting a war, migrating to a new country, starting a new life, battling illness and pain, he paused.  “Have you ever been betrayed?”  he asked me.  The sadness and ache in his eyes was evident.  My heart tugged.  He shuffled his way to his vehicle. His eyes though. His eyes let out a million secrets.  “Have I ever been betrayed?”   I listened more to his story of pain and betrayal.  What would I say to him as he parted?  I wanted to know that he wouldn’t be alone that afternoon after he stepped in his vehicle.  Who would he come home to?  Afterall he just said good-bye to the love of his life.  “You are not alone,”  I whispered.  “God is with you.”

“I know”, he replied, “I know.”

There’s much suffering on this planet.  Those taken too quickly, betrayal that happens when we least expect it.  But there’s this assurance we have, a hope, a flicker.  He’s with us.  In fact, He surrounds us.  This man somehow knew this hope.  He knew.  He knows.

We are not alone.

Jesus I need you

How are you all doing in the midst of the pandemic?  Summer is still in full swing and we are learning how to live and breathe and find life admidst the world’s uncertainty.  I know for myself, I find myself at times uncertain and alone in my thoughts.  At other times, I’m filled with a sense of togetherness and aware of the magnitude of God’s presence.  Today, with a moment’s breather, I’m struck by a profound reality.

Let me share… In John 8, we are introduced to the story of the blind man at the pool of Bethseda.   We read in verses 5-7:

“One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years.  When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, ‘Do you want to be healed?’  The sick man answered him, ‘Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.”

Notice anything here?  The man came in contact with Jesus and shared how he wasn’t healed yet because no one helped him in the pool.  He infered that he couldn’t get healed because of the inability to get into the pool of Bethseda. What happened next?

We read on in verse 8, Jesus said to him, “‘Get up, take up your bed, and walk.’  Verse 9 And at once the man was healed, and he took up his bed and walked.”  Jesus healed him right there and then!

The man didn’t realize it but he needed Jesus, not the formula of getting into the pool.  He had been an invalid for thirty-eight years we read.  How long must he have waited at the pool of Bethseda we are not sure but it was for a very long time.  Jesus didn’t create a way for him to get into the pool.  He didn’t even refer to the pool at all.  By the command of Jesus, this man was healed.  He needed the healing touch of the Savior.

I don’t know about you, but in this pandemic, admist our move not yet a year ago, our career changes, our shifting changes of our family dynamic, I think sometimes I know the way forward.  But again and again, I am reminded that I need Jesus.  I need Jesus to show us the way, to point to us, to heal us, to guide us, affirm us and protect us.  

What are you currently facing that you need help in? Are you waiting in your suffering? My prayer is that Jesus would show you the way ahead. That you would experience Him leading you, guiding you, healing you and loving you. May your heart be free in this season to declare that you need Him.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=lKM-8CZRplI

Throw your net on the other side…

When I spend time searching for answers for our families’ questions in this season, I stumble across John 21 when after the resurrection, Jesus  reveals himself to the 7 disciples.  Remember, the disciples decided to go fishing and spent all night at sea only to catch nothing?

Jesus stands on the shore and encourages them to throw their net on the other side of the boat.  What happens next?  The disciples do this and the net becomes so full of fish, they can’t haul it to shore.  At that moment, when their empty net is full to overflow, they recognize Jesus.  They recognize Jesus.  That’s when we tend to recognize him.  Tough to recognize Him when the net is empty though. But here the disciples do recognize Jesus.  They then manage to get to shore and the net doesn’t break.  This was no small catch.  There were 153 fish in that net!

Jesus has a warm fire awaiting them on the beach.  He said “Come have breakfast.”  Come have breakfast. Can you imagine that invitation?

Here was their leader, their teacher alive and risen, and overwhelming their discouraged hearts with a miracle.  I would of been amazed that morning to be served breakfast by Jesus around the fire by the beach.  Served by Jesus. Filling my empty net.  This is the utter amazing aspect of Jesus – always aware of our humanity.  Sharing a welcomed meal with us.  Inviting us into the warmth of his presence.  That would of been a warm morning.  The sunrise occuring, the fire started and hope alive.  The empty net was full.  Stomachs were being filled.  The void off loss and despair would be replaced with love and joy, community and friendship.

We’ve been praying these days that our net will fill up.  It feels that so much change has come upon us that we need to pray this prayer.  For us with a massive move on all fronts for our family, followed by a pandemic has made for challenging times.  Have we felt the warmth of his presence?  The fullness of being provided for and the hope filling our emptyness?  We need the miracle of Jesus right now.  We need to hear his voice calling us from the beach.  We need to hear his instructions, guiding us to a full net.  We need to be aware of what side we are fishing on – and hear his voice instructing us which side to throw our net. We need to come to the beach of invitation, beauty, warmth and love.  We need him like never before.

❤️Jodi

The blessing….

We are away, hibernating during our daughter’s quarantine.  What a gift this is…snugged away on a mountainside overlooking a pristine lake in the interior of BC.  As I write, one of my kids is cooking dinner, the other playing keyboard.  Mike and I are madly studying – Mike more so even than me!  We take each day at a time here, fully aware of the issues we face when we leave. Housing, jobs, future just to name a few. Joseph, is in the UK studying the book of Luke.  It’s incredible that he can continue so far in his studies.  His blog is here: https://josephskipstown.wordpress.com/

My daughter Sarah taught me how to play a song that’s been ringing in my heart these past weeks during the covid pandemic.  What sparked an idea that I could learn some chords, was I felt like if I could reivent myself this year, despite how it’s completely depleted me of extra energy, surley I could learn some chords and for the first time play guitar alongside a favourite worship song.  Well, after a few nights, I have it!  (not mastered at all, but for some good prayer/worship time)

The words….the benediciton and then comes the climax…may His favour be upon you for a thousand generations and your children and their children….

https://www.google.ca/search?q=the+blessing+live+kari+jobe&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&hl=en-ca&client=safari

During this pandemic, some dear friends have had babies, others are planning weddings, only to have to postpone.  (babies come tho!)  But others of us, it’s unbelieveable parenting through this pandemic.  At times we can feel a little lost.  It reminds me of 9/11.  I clearly remember being 8 months pregnant with our third child when 9/11 happened.  I felt lost, and didn’t know how I would parent through this.  I questioned the world I was bringing another child into. Yet, God was faithful then.  And He’s faithful now.  If we are still long enough, we can taste more of His presence.  Let’s face it- this is gonna feel lonely. It’s gonna feel long. May He turn His face toward us and give us peace.  May we see Him at work in all the medical staff and professionals who risk their lives daily to fight this battle.  May we see Him at work in the ICU wards, healing people, helping people, seeing the world come together at such a time as this.