Letters

Dear __________

Yes, please do call me Randy. When I moved from Winnipeg to Prince Albert to pastor the church there, there was already a guy called Randy Friesen there. So I shifted to my actual name, Randall. But as I age, I miss the old Randy, so I am more and more introducing myself as that. So, please feel free to call me by name.

Processing so much life when we are thoughtful individuals can be a real challenge. So we listen to a preacher or a talking head and it makes us think deep thoughts, and we need a place to process that stuff. Normally, when I preach, I try to focus on one big idea for the day, because usually one big idea is enough for people. But I find with this recorded format that I tend to sometimes be a bit all over the place. That also comes from not writing down what I’m going to say before I say it. The reason for that is it just takes so much extra time to work that out, so the recording can be a bit all over the place. I do try to edit that out to some success, :-) but it is what it is, and I am praying and trusting the Lord to use whatever there is there for his glory.

I do quite enjoy the discipline of it. The daily time in the word and prayer is good for my soul. The numbers aren’t vast, but I felt like when God was asking me to take it up again that numbers didn’t matter, hearts did. So I’m trying to leave that up to him and just focus on obedience and faithfulness.

All that to say, sorry about stirring up too many things each day. 🙄

One of your comments resonated with me so well. I believe it was where you identified that your upbringing was considerably safe or sheltered. That’s been my experience as well. And so it’s taken me well into my adult years to meet people who are actually wicked. I used to think that was just a Bible term but no, there are very wicked evil people out there. And for reasons that only God might know right now, the hearts of so many people are being exposed, and wickedness is found within.

The world is not what it was when we grew up. The divisions between races and genders, sexualities, and politics is so pronounced in these past years, That it feels like violence is just around the corner every day. If not physical violence, then certainly spiritual or emotional or mental violence comes at us every day. As you infer, it is exhausting. And so different from our childhood. I sound like an old fart when I say, I miss those days when we had some things in common with our neighbours.

(I heard an author the other day, who was indicating that her research, and the point of her latest writing was that you can tell that a culture or a country is about to die when it begins to wrestle with its identity in human sexuality. This is pronounced when the society moves into areas of gender, changing, and reassignment. She had observed it in her studies of nations of the past. But her point was that western civilization is now going down that road and so there is reason to believe that western civilization timing is up. And so we may watch as it disintegrates.)

So I suppose part of the tension we feel, and the violence we experience, is just in how our society is falling apart.

And then we see nature pushing back whether it’s killer fires in Chile, or killer rainstorms in California, or killer snowstorms on the east coast… And that’s just this week.

Rather than see them as God, calling us to attention, calling us to repentance, we blame global warming, and those people on the other end of the spectrum from where we might reside.

As you might’ve put together by now, the state of the world is high on my list of neediness right now. We are in trouble and I can only wonder that things will get worse.

I like your closing thoughts as well. That we only have our little corner of the world to manage. That’s what I tell our kids, all we have power over is our corner of the world and we can make a big difference there. And a wonderful, healthy world could be discovered as everyone just takes care of their own little patch. That’s all we can do and that’s all we’ve been entrusted with.

As I say, I enjoy your thoughtfulness, so yes, feel free to drop me a note anytime.

We need each other as we fumble towards glory. And so I am glad there are people like you in this world, making a difference.

Many blessings, Randy

This Girl

This girl, in the deep ways that matter, was always so different from me.

She lived life fully, without much reservation. She teased and laughed and liked the snow and the wind. She would throw snow at my face and sing broadway hits without warning.

I was the rock, difficult to move. She was lightness and love. Her sense of freedom against my sense of duty. Her invitation to grace against my rule of law.

She said I was the anchor she needed. But I knew she was the joy my heaviness required to even have half a chance at a good life. And it’s been a very good life indeed.

This picture of a picture was from back in college, and says so much about her.

April 18th will forever be stuck in my mind and my heart. It was on that day 37 years ago on a dirt road way up in northern Alberta, she agreed to date me.

And the rest, as they say, is history.
But what a blessed history indeed.

How Am I Doing?

...comes the question to me.

After the challenges of spring and my body failing on new levels I've never known before, "How am I Doing" is a question I am asked, and I ask myself.

Well, strength is building and I find that to be good news. Although its been new for me to discover that I cannot yet manage the stress levels that I used to manage. I assume that strength is returning there as well, I just need to be patient with it and give it time to return.

My body just isn't the same as it was oh say two years ago. I keep waiting for it to return, to bounce back. I keep watching for signs of that strength. But a part of me is getting, I dunno, afraid maybe, that it won't return like it was. That maybe this is the way its going to be. That I might require a shift in my thinking and my posture as an able bodied man.  It fears me that maybe my "Abled Body-ness" is behind me now.

So the official answer is that I am doing much better than I was, which is truth. Just not doing nearly so well as I once was, which is also truth.

But I have a good supportive and lovely wife, good doctors who have been able to keep me alive, a good counsellor who helps keep watch over my Spirit, a great church who is telling me not to rush it but to be patient, and a great God who is in it all, leading me and teaching me through it all.

So then, lots of good in it all.

The only bad would be coming from my impatience and my fear of a new normal way of being.

Good all around me, and struggles within. That may be one of the reasons these days are so challenging to me, I'm living too much in myself.

Ok 2018, I didn't see that coming.

Well dear reader, in a strictly physical sense 2018 has been a most lousy year.  However, there have been some nice pluses. Family visiting, and people caring, yes there have been some positives as well.

To summarize, my kidney stones came to visit January 6th causing me significant daily pain until Friday February 16th when I underwent a second surgery to attempt to extract them, which was a success in that regard.

But by Monday February 19th there was something seriously wrong and Lauralea rushed me to emergency. It was a very long night as I descended into some sort of delirious, fever and chills, hallucination state. By Tuesday morning the Doctors were very concerned and the situation quickly deteriorated to a "Very bad" condition.

I had picked up a kidney infection and then a blood infection. Tuesday night and Wednesday were really bad as the sepsis raged through my body. The things I saw in my mind still are with me.

Anyway, they began treatment with powerful antibiotics and for the next nine days I drifted between sleep and wakefulness. I was most glad to regain control of my bodily functions. :)  I didn't understand how close it was until the Doctors met with me after I started to get a clear head. They were afraid I was past hope, but as they said, it was "That close."

So they released me and ordered rest and nothing but rest for the next weeks. Next week I get to go back to work.

Its pretty humbling, in the truest sense of the word. Life is simply a delicate gift that could tilt in either direction on any given day.  During the worst of it I remember having a very clear thought that this whole thing didn't surprise God. It didn't catch him unaware or make him have to play catchup in anyway. I felt peace and though I felt as sick as could be, I never felt alone or lost. There was comfort and peace through it all.

And now its halfway through March for Pete's sake, (Sorry Pete) and I'm still waiting to get on with the year. Now as I pick up my life in mid March, I am a different person than I was three months ago. I'm still working out how I'm different and though some things are very clear, some parts are not clear at all.

I think it will be a better deeper presence than it used to be. Even the sense of vulnerability is a gift.
I'm just glad I can get back into life next week. I'm looking forward to it, a lot.

1179 Fourth Street East, Prince Albert Sk.

This is a photo that makes up the wallpaper on one of my MacBook screens. I enjoy working on this screen because of the memories of this place, but also because of the starkness yet warmth presented in it.

It is a photo of our back yard in Prince Albert Saskatchewan.

When we purchased the house there was only one post still in place from that fence. It's the somewhat crooked left leaning one along the back of the fence. We had to re-dig post holes and I wanted to retain the one old post from the previous fence so it could be a fence repair rather than a new build. :)
But it took much work and effort build it. And as a result there are many memories there for me.

Then one summer we installed the circular fire pit to the left of the photo. Some dry summers there would be a fire ban in place, but in autumn we would light it up, and even sometimes roast wieners and marshmallows over the fire there.

On the far left of the photo is a treehouse that we built with an attached ladder in place for those less agile. It may have been more of a dad idea than an idea of one of the kids, but we build it with a hatch in the floor that would lift up so that we could climb up the tree onto the platform. We built it early in our time there, so it came and went in interest and use. But I remember a picnic or two up there. I also remember some ants that would climb up and frustrate us. It's a good memory.

The pergola we built as a deck for using on summer and autumn days watching the trees change colours in the yard and the park across the back alley from our yard. It was a challenge to build and I remember losing my patience a few times with the guys who helped me build it. Funny how certain memories remain of certain things.  I have fond memories of a few Autumns out there in the cold breeze sitting out there and watching the seasons change.

It was a great yard with a park setting. The only down side was the unseen neighbourhood house to the right of the photo. That was a rental house that could bring much joy or a great pain, depending upon who lived there that year.

There are many memories there for me. Mostly good memories of family and times with loved ones. Working together, fighting together, living together. Finding our way through growing up together.  It was a blessed little house which I had to go out there to search for and purchase without Lauralea there to help choose. But it was, I really believe, a leading and gift of God to us to be able to live in that place all those years.

And now when I work on that screen, I am filled with good memories.
That's a gift to me.

Today you can go there via. google maps and even see the back yard we created.

God, Bless America?

It was halfway through the primaries on a Sunday morning and I was walking through the church when I had a picture or a realization that Donald Trump would win the primaries and then go on to win the presidency.

It was not what I would easily declare to be a God moment, although it was a very clear picture that I can remember to this day. It was profound because no one was giving him a chance to even be the republican nominee for president.

Personally as I watched the election process unfold and was shocked again and again by his person, I did go back and forth between him and his rival. The American/Washington system needed such a good cleaning out and I knew that she wouldn't be able to do that. But his character was so broken... I wouldn't wish that character on any nation.

Now here we are, a week into the Presidents rule. There are reactions against him from coast to coast and around the world.  He's already brought more change than some presidents bring in a whole term, partly because the Republicans control of the Senate (and control both houses of Congress).  However its also because of who he is, his character.  I find myself grieving over who America is now going to become.


I suspect that America will shrink now, will begin to diminish in its historical influence and power. There will be more and more conflicts within its borders, and less respect from the nations.  Its days of being a superpower are, I think, behind it now.

If it happens at all, it won't happen overnight. This will be a process that will erode the historical nation over some time.  As long as it doesn't do something so self destructive as civil infighting, which I suppose could still come.

The great nation will recede, but maybe that's not such a bad thing. (Said the Canadian)



On January 20th I wrote;

Oh America,
You voted him in. You chose him.

He is the fulfillment of the American spirit
He's money, he's Hollywood, (He's blond)
He's brash, and bullying, he's in your face.
Strong, uncompromising, arrogant, manipulative.
He get's his way, he plays with truth.
All you value is in him America.

Why is he worse than the others?
Is it because he doesn't hide his sins?
His character is deeply flawed.

Others hide their sins and we call them good
yet there are none perfectly good.
He sins without shame and we don't like that at all.

But America, you voted for him.
More of you voted for him than didn't vote for him.
Your renouncement and repudiation of him now
is only a renouncement and repudiation of yourself.

Admit your sin and repent of your true character
and maybe God will relent.


You now have as your leader the fulfillment of your identity.
He is you America, at least he is the majority of you.

As your king takes his place, think hard America about who you want to be.
Maybe God will have mercy.

Maybe God will use him to change the spirit of America.
To humble her and to break her.
Maybe that's why he beat all the odds and all comers.
Maybe God has given her the fullness of who she is in her leader,
to help her see who she has become.
Maybe.

But for now America, behold your King.

Thanksgiving

This photo from Thomas and Terri Lynn's wedding is missing one full quarter of their group. Because of new babies and government bureaucracy, Johanna the eldest was unable to be there for the day. 

I didn't realize it till I got home and viewed the photo, just how much they all have grown. They have matured and grown into their own spirits in ways that I'm deeply proud of.

Then to hear from people who have met them and interacted with them and its their character that is commented on again and again. All four of them. That's pretty cool for any dad.

So this Thanksgiving day while all but one of them is living in different cities and countries, I'm pretty grateful for these people and how they have helped shape who I am becoming.

I'm thankful for this family, this growing family, and I love them lots.

Saturday in the Office

...is a normal thing for me, especially when it's been a full week.

Last week with its funerals and all boards meetings, with its company visiting and weekend milestone parties we got to attend, well that was one crazy week.

This week there are visits and Spiritual Direction offered. A church wiener roast and a wedding anniversary to celebrate. But mostly I think this week has been about restoration and sabbath after last week.

I've been told, by people who love me, that I work too hard. That I put too much into the things that I do. That's a fair judgement I think. There is a part of me that loves the hard seasons. Probably in warped ways, I feel fulfilled when I am busy working.  Again in warped ways (I think) sometimes days off just slow me down and I mentally circle the tower until I can get back to work the next day.

It's also the season of life we are in now. Kids are gone so there is much more time available and I can do with it what I like, and it seems I like work.

But thankfully I really enjoy the days off after a tough and busy season. I really do live into the rest days then.

So today I am in the office, trying to sort out my words for tomorrow. Monday we will rest again. Maybe start to talk about our holiday time, yet to be enjoyed this year.


Aging and life changes and work and rest, constantly seem to need attention. Constantly need adjustments as we go. So you never have it figured out with a sense of finality it seems.

The constant in my life is love. Lauralea and our kids and their kids. Family.  Big loves there.

I love these people I serve and care for here in this field.  I love this place and these people with all their challenges and needs.  The older, tired ones, the sick ones, the driven ones, the young ones, the little ones who come up to me at church wiener roasts and boldly state, "You're my pastor at church, I'm in grade two..."  and the ones too uncertain of things so they write me emails with deep life questions. I love that.

And though I don't want it ever to sound cliche, God. Our connection grows with each year. I love who we are becoming together. I love more and more that we will have eternity to share together. I so look forward to that.

Usually on my birthday I'll take a good chunk of the day for prayer and maybe fasting and He and I will just spend time together. But this year I was able to celebrate it with the most beautiful granddaughters that ever lived (To date!)

But during the day He (God) offered me his blessing on my family if I wanted it. Just like that. Because He loves me.  I thought He had blessed lots already, but my reply was yes, please bless them all. More and more and more.

And when you serve a God of love like that who gives birthday gifts like that, what's not to love?

Life been tough? How are you handling it?

A dog fell into a farmer’s well. After assessing the situation, the farmer decided that neither the dog nor the well was worth the bother of saving. He’d bury the old dog in the well and put him out of his misery.

When the farmer began shoveling dirt down the well, initially the old dog was hysterical. But as the dirt hit his back, the dog realized every time dirt landed on his back, he could shake it off and step up. “Shake it off and step up; shake it off and step up!” he repeated to himself.

No matter how painful the blows were, the old dog kept shaking the dirt off and stepping up. It wasn’t long before the dog, battered and exhausted, stepped triumphantly over the wall of that well. What seemed as though it would bury him actually benefited him—all because of the way he handled his adversity.

The adversities that come along to bury us usually have within them the potential to bless us. Forgiveness, faith, prayer, praise, and hope are some of the biblical ways to shake it off and step up out of the wells in which we find ourselves.


—Bruce Shelley, Denver, Colorado

Sideways thoughts on the human condition: Aloneness

Tonight I met with an individual in my office.
Their story is personal and painful and is very unique. And bless them they were willing to trust me with it. I listened and prayed and reflected on the struggles they faced.
And I was glad I was able to be present to them, and that it seemed that what small insights I had to share with them were helpful and occasionally insightful.

However, I came away with an increased sense that so many people around here these days are hurting so deeply. Deeply, as in where do I go for help, for some answers. That kind of deep pain.

The levels of personal struggle, loss and pain felt by so many people, are real and often hopeless. And all I am able to do is spend some time and in a way be with them, and listen to them. As this individual stated, "Sometimes its a helpful thing to be able to speak the words out loud." And they are right. Being heard is a help in and of itself.

And while our chat was going on, my phone in my breast pocked was giving me a short vibration each time a couple of friends were communicating with one another. It was too late to pull the phone out and shut if off, but each vibration was a communication of care. I knew that they were communicating and that they were watching out for each other, because that is who they are. It was oddly comforting, their vibrating presence there.

And I think that is a good part of life's biggest struggles. That we don't always have somebody to talk with or to listen to us when its needed. When comfort is required or a gentle push is the answer for us.

Yet there can be life there in those good supportive relationships.

As I tell the kids, being married doesn't mean you always have a built in listener, nor does being alone mean you have no listeners either. Learning to listen is always a good thing. Always. And learning to be heard, to communicate is also one of life's great helps.

So maybe this aloneness we experience as humans can be helped by learning to listening, and by practicing the vulnerability needed to share your heart with another.

You may find answers in the places you least expect them.

Community Fear

If there can be anything good that can come out of being robbed last week, I think that one of the good things has been the conversations we've been able to have with people in this community.  And people are afraid.

Even though its about shadows and noises in the night, there is real fear out there. It's a very motivating thing for this community.

Guys are going to bed with loaded guns, alarm systems are being installed, new deadbolt locks are being put on doors, dogs are being purchased, and for at least one homeowner I spoke with, they are barricading their doors overnight. Fear is motivating us.

If I needed convincing that the fear is real, living through the dark middle of the night fear of the past week convinces me that people will do whatever they can, to dispel the fear because it can be traumatizing. Even for people who are simply neighbours of people effected by last weeks events.

In a way, this fear causes us to build defensive walls that remove from us any vulnerability to the outside world. This is a safety response, but it can also be dangerous.

Its dangerous to us because the protective walls we build, also become walls that keep us in. They start to look a lot like prisons after a while.

And we build prisons of fear, of addiction, of abuse. In our desire never to be vulnerable again, we create structures that we think will protect us. And we are just walling ourselves in. Prisons.

It takes some courage in times like these, to be bold and a bit vulnerable, and to pray the prayer that David prayed when he was trapped in a cave and in deep fear for his life; "Set me free from my prison, that I may praise your name."

That's been my real prayer for us and for this community this past week. That God would set us free from our prisons of fear.

Tonight as I go to sleep, with the doors and windows wisely closed and locked, that's still my prayer for you our neighbours throughout this community. That God would set us free from prisons of fear.

Night.
Sleep tight  :)

He restores my soul

It's +9C, a cool rainy, restful day out there.  I would consider it the perfect day.

I know, there are friends of mine who will be freezing today. I mean you no ill will but you had your days this week. Now it's a day for the moody, the brooding, the cozy low sky lovers, like me.

It has been a busy week here in the field. Work has been full, there are many to care for out here. And Lauralea and I have been working on something for a month or so, pretty hard at it physically and emotionally I guess. And yesterday that all came to naught. So we are pulling ourselves back together, tending our wounds, and getting on with the business of life. This day helps us.

She's at home baking a cake for a Barn party tomorrow, with the windows open, the fireplace on, and ClassicFM on the radio. And I am in the office with my windows wide open, the trees rustling in the breeze, the smell of rain in the air, working on the service for tomorrow.

Yes, this day helps us. It restores our soul.
Our cup is full, and God is good.

Another year older and I'm still figuring it all out

It seems that the only thing harder than loving a child or grandchild from a distance is watching as they try to love you back.

This is the truth as I've experienced it.

"When will you live closer?"  Is a question that echoes through our conversations with little ones closely related and even with those not as closely related. "When will we see you again?"

Turning fifty two this week gave me pause to reflect on these calls from people, little and big. "When" indeed.

The calling we answered some 29 years ago has cost us over the years. But when you are young and counting the cost, your mind has no idea of the costs to come over the years. Costs of distance and miles, of stretched relationships and laid aside dreams. The costs seem as real today as they did 30 years ago when I set my course to answer a calling I felt in my spirit that was bigger than I was.

These past few years have taken more from Lauralea and I physically than I can recall in previous years. We are finally starting to feel it in our bones and bodies. I don't know why but that surprises us a bit.  Perhaps its because we don't feel like we are aging. But there you go, its all relative. We're only in our fifties so its nothing yet. But it is something.

And the desire to answer the call faithfully is as strong as it's ever been. Even though the cost is becoming dearer in terms of not being close to family. The desire is strong. "Lord I believe, help my unbelief."

Here now with our fifties firmly underway we are looking at new opportunities to grow faith, to be stretched in new ways to serve God and care for people. And again we are invited to move from our comfort zone down roads God seems to have laid out for us. The doors are opening up in this community and believe it or not, people in Alberta need Jesus too.


It feels good to know that God is leading and not following us. And that it will cost us something, because that tests my motives.  I don't know where the road goes, because against my pushy suggestions, He doesn't seem to be of a mind to show me the whole picture.  So for now I'm just working to be faithful to what He has been showing me.

And a clear part of that obedience, for now, includes living at a distance from family.

So thank you God for Skype and care packages. For phones and for people who care for us from miles away, and up close. And thank you God for your faithfulness even when we struggle. And for long obediences in the same direction.

Happy Birthday, to me.

Silence is not a negative, not an absence at all...

Silence was one of those things that I never really understood as a younger person. I knew it was life giving to me, and that I desired it. But I thought it was a place empty of everything else rather than what I have come to understand now, that it is a condition of abundance, of life.

This post I am quoting below has meant more to me in my understanding of silence through the years. The place that used to host it changed, and it took me some time to rediscover it. Now that I've found it, like a treasure I don't want to lose it.

It's by Vianney Carriere, and presently it's hosted here.

Now there was a  great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake, a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. (Kings: 18: 11-13)

Silence is something like one’s good health. It is most prized when abruptly taken away, most cherished when suddenly recovered, when, as with the rush of light, we suddenly realize that we have been deprived of it for a long time. Then as it returns, a wealth of rediscovered feelings comes with it. Silence begins as something external and it becomes a state of being.

People who live in cities almost never experience silence. There is always something – traffic in the distance, the chatter of neighbours, a far-off siren, even the white noise of office buildings.

Yet it is a mistake to think of silence as the absence of noise. Silence is not a negative, not an absence at all, but an overwhelming presence, an awesome something that brings sustaining and resuscitating gifts all the more precious for their rarity. Silence is a wonder for all the faces that it has, all the garments that it wears, the nuances and qualities that come with it: the silence of a starlit night in a wilderness; the silence of a deserted church, empty yet holy, the engulfing silence of fresh snow, the silence that passes in a glance between a loving couple, running like electricity through a wire. All different. All magical.

That is why we whisper when we pray, why our “I love you’s” are spoken so softly – it is isn’t all reticence or a need for privacy. It is a tribute to the silence of special places and special moments, the mystery of special moods that we know are so fragile and so transitory that the merest sound can drive then away. We know in our very soul that we ought not to disturb these times. They are as skylarks, timid, every poised to swoosh away.

The very best kind of communication that can happen between people is silent. This is one of life’s mysteries – how we, as a species with the marvelous and unique gift of speech, make ourselves understood, share a moment, communicate our love and our passion with a look or a glance, so much more effectively than we do with words.

So much of what we say to people with whom we live and work or to people whom we meet is not important at all. It won’t be remembered or it will be misunderstood. The really crucial things are communicated wordlessly, punctuated, perhaps with a mere squeeze of the hand, with a smile, or with a look with which you suddenly find yourself gazing into the very depths of someone else’s silence.

The wordless way we have of communicating our really vital thoughts and emotions are as personal as fingerprints. No two people do this the same way. It requires awareness, fullness of soul, love, and silence. Silence, above all, cannot be dispensed with.

It is a way of communicating not unlike the way we are taught, as infants, to communicate with God, the way we are taught to pray. Prayer, even for those who find it difficult, is enabled by silence. Silence, stillness, is the route to holiness and to communion with God, much more so than the other props we’ve picked up, the icons of prayer, the formulaic words we learn as children, the beads of a rosary, the gestures.

There is a reason, surely, why Jesus and all the prophets sought out the wilderness in their quest for inspiration and to nurture their special sight. They were seeking holy silence – the consuming presence of an empty, quiet space, which is the surest conduit to God and the things of God that nature allows.

To seek silence is to seek God; to love silence, to learn the beauty of stillness, is to invite God to touch us and our lives. And in silence, in this private, internal wilderness that we create, God finds us, as he once found the prophets, and speaks to us in ways that can enlighten, inspire or confound. That is another mystery, another level of communication, another place. A silent place is a holy place if only we can learn to hear and love that mystical nothingness that is everything.

A full week of, ministry

Ministry.
I know there are some pastors out there who see the ministry they are involved in as a ministry of systems. They shepherd the systems in the local church to keep the big wheels moving and in theory many more people are cared for and ministered to than if one person was doing "the ministry."

I am becoming better at that approach certainly, but it is the pastor in me that loves to work with people more than processes and to pray with them seeing them progress in their journey of the spirit.

This week was one of those busy ministry weeks. The church spring meeting was this week, which was good, and I was invited to bring the service in the local hospital and then enjoyed a few pretty good conversations as a result.

We've had people over for meals and have been able to have some good conversations about life and God and things of the Spirit.

Lauralea and I served in the two care homes in town and brought services there. The people, even in their age, are hungry for the Word and have open hearts to listen and receive. Conversations after are full of need and open hearts. When we talk of ministry, that is a good evening of care.

Our regular breakfast with some pastors was also this week. Seems that many are going through their own valley of shadows, as their ministries disintegrate or shift all around them. What difficult seasons for so many pastors these days, who find themselves involved in things they would never have guessed would come their way. There was much room for care and spirit work there.

I also attended a camp annual meeting, and though you might think there is little room for that sort of ministry there, this year there was. Frustration and desperation make people willing to listen and to maybe explore change. It's a broken time in lives when difficulty comes, but in that place there is room for God to be God.

Then there have been 5, 6,  or 9 different meetings and conversations and prayer that have been real ministry times when God has been at work.


What an odd, full week it's been.
And then there will be weeks of quiet when there is little of that kind of work and you think, why so quiet?

Seasons and rhythms, work and rest, physical and spiritual.
Just the order of a week, month, and year.

And it may say something about me, good or bad, but I really do enjoy those weeks when they do come. Because I still really love just one person sitting across from me, sharing life and the things of the Spirit together.

Be Present

It's true.
Following after someone requires intentionality.
Listening needs presence.

"Pay attention" the mother in the shop says to her seven year old.
See what is happening here. Watch what I am doing so you can know how to do it yourself.
Paying the most careful attention will help you to not miss the details.

Drifting is fine for a hot summers day when you are on a raft floating down the North Saskatchewan river.
It's not fine for a relationship. Just ask any emotionally abandoned lover.
Drifting isn't enough for those big things in life.

To not lose our way, we must listen, be present, pay attention.

Are you paying attention to today?
Are you listening?
Are you present to the things you hear?

"We must pay the most careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away."  Hebrews 2:1

I feel old...

Old as in I had a morning meeting at the University of Alberta yesterday morning, and as I entered the Student Union Building I caught the energy of the place and I liked loved it.

Kids talking, working, sleeping on a bench. Listening to music or playing a guitar. Eating a bagel or drinking black coffee. Buying supplies, studying together, comparing notes from last night. The energy in the place was just, well, animated. Well, except for the guy passed out on the bench with his  backpack for a pillow.

And I thought, just for a brief moment, how I'd like to go back and do more study. More research more learning and certainly engage in more ah ha moments of discovery.


And then I needed to go to the washroom, and I saw myself in a mirror.
I felt so instantly old.

Just now, when I have the self confidence. When I'm ok with myself and have figured out a couple of life's big questions. When the formal education wouldn't be lost on me. I suddenly get old.

That's the story of my life. Arriving late to the parties, mostly because I'm a slow learner.

So maybe it's just as well I don't go back to school.
I'm still a slow learner.

Transparent

Emerging from a very tough week. I wonder what I'm doing with it all.
Fighting so hard the feeling of heaviness I guess it is.
My dreams are dark. I want to crawl into a closet where no one can find me, and close the door.
Trying to keep up, keep on.

The work is challenging, and I am doing my best to keep up.
It's doable, but there is so much of it.
Feels like I'm barely holding on sometimes.

It's a season. That's all it is.
A season of struggle. And seasons come and go.

Though I am not without hope.
This season has its brightly lit moments too.
A few moments Skype with my granddaughters.
Great staff to work with.
A quiet place to live.
A bride who strokes my arm when the darkness of a sleepless night presses in.
Each one a very real gift of love to me this week.

I want to say this has been an amazingly tough week.
But it hasn't killed me, or made me withdraw.
It hasn't made my faith fail, or pushed me further from God.

And
Even in the darkness of this week, light has pierced through and lit up the dark.
And I am still here.
And this world is better today, because I have been in it.
And deep at the core of who I am,
that's a really good thing.

Maybe next week the seasons change.

Denver Tired

I woke up this morning feeling like I had been hit by a truck.
So. Tired.
I recall waking in the wee small hours needing a glass of water, and it was only 12:48am.
I am in rough shape. I admit it.
Work has been hard core since I got back from holidays in early November. And now we are done our Annual meeting, (which was awesome by the way. God awesome.) Now my schedule is urgent meeting clear for the first time in months. So that is great.

This is a reset time for me, this midwinter pastors week. So I'm trying to reset myself. Trying to balance self alone time along with connecting with people time.

Today is walking and napping time. Doing some reading of poetry and some praying, which is alike and for my spirit.

And God is close and looking out for me, and pushing me when it starts to get too much about me.

I just need a lot from this week and today is a dodgy start, physically at least.

So I'm done my coffee and croissant and the sun is out and warm so I'm off to walk a couple miles downtown, including a stop at a bookstore for a good book of poetry.

Let's see what Denver has to show me.

Should we be praying for sick people to be made well?

You know the church's history of praying for healing for people has been a bit of a come and go thing over the past 2000 years. There are seasons where we practice it well and then there are seasons of quiet. We see seasons of incredible miracles and then we see nothing for a hundred or so years. While that may be a part of our past story, there is biblical reason to believe that it can be a helpful part of our ministries today, if we will have the courage to try.

I think some of us are generally afraid of the whole topic, so we end up saying that those sorts of things were for the early days of the church and are not for today.
I also think that we see the things we have simple faith to see.

During the past two weeks we tackled the difficult topic of Healing in the church and we explored some reasons why we may not see the answers we are looking for. It's certainly not the definitive piece on healing, but it's a good place to start looking at these things and perhaps to be challenged about our own thinking on it.

Part One: Praying for healing, an Overview

Part Two: What Happens When We're Not Healed?