out of the mouths of...

It's her first month in this country and she's the only one fasting from sun-up to sundown for Ramadan. As we talked about her day, she asked why I looked so sad. Surprised by her perceptiveness, I told her a bit of my journey this past year. She murmured her sympathies and asked if I had any children living with me. When I told her of my first grandchild and a daughter's wedding and my youngest son now living on his own, she expressed even deeper sympathy- she is no stranger to loneliness- unmarried, with all her siblings killed in the Iraqi war. Her final response- "Allah... is ...errr...how do you say it?"
"God?"
"Yes! God is with you"

Thank you, God, for reminding me of your unfailing love and presence in this most surprising way. I hear you.

That's reminds me of...

27 years ago I was pregnant with my first child and shopping in a corner grocery store that carried many Mexican foods. Makes sense, since I was living in California. The smell of corn tortillas still makes me nauseous... Funny how smells evoke such strong memories!

I was chatting with a man who looks my age, but is over 10 years younger than me. It was his birthday and I asked if he was going to celebrate it in any way (with the inherent desire to help celebrate, if it seemed suitable). He said no, he never celebrates his birthday anymore, because the day his mother died was just before his birthday. Then he proceeded to tell me his story of 10+ years of imprisonment, beatings, torture, being moved around from one prison to another to keep him hidden, and most traumatic of all, not being able to be there when his mother died. I humbly thanked him for entrusting me with his story and acknowledged that he had good reasons for not wanting to remember his birthday.

Another friend shared the coping strategy he has to get through our frequent thunder storms. He cranks his music up as loud as he can to try to drown out the disturbing, unpredictable crashes and booms. What an easy life I've lived.

I want to do something to eradicate their past, but quickly realize that I have only been given the opportunity to impact their now and their future. By the grace of God, I commit myself to prayerfully do just that and let Him bring the healing for their past!

Everyone needs a father

I've been reading Lawrence's The Book of Negroes during my move- grabbing a moment here and there. The story of Aminata, a young girl taken captive and transported to the USA as a slave is captivating, heartbreaking and inspiring.

To avoid beatings, I hurried to do the work quickly and kept myself company by imagining encouraging words from my father.
What a difference a father would make. A father to speak to me in my own language, to show me how to avoid being hit, to show me how to be in this new land. I ached for someone who knew everything about me and knew exactly how to guide me. Inside my head, I tried to hear the sound of my father's voice while his fingers lit gently on my arm.
"This is what they want, Animate, and this is how to survive...You are in a new land now. Do what it takes to stay alive. I am watching over you, Daughter. I see you in this new land. You crossed the big river and you must keep on living." p. 132, 133.

Animata's story propels me forward in my own "new land". I DO have such a Father and if I'm listening, will hear the kind of loving guidance we both long for.

It also helps me understand the courageous refugees I share life with- the horrific experiences they've endured, the mountains they must scale in order to learn how to be in a new land, the role family and community can play as they forge ahead.

I think I'll introduce them to my Father!

Daffodils in the Dark

I was riding my bike home tonight and came upon these valiant sentinels, proudly displaying their colours in the dark! I had never realized that unlike tulips which close up when it's raining or the day is coming to an end, the daffodil defiantly shouts its glories rain or shine!
I want to be like those daffodils. Too often I'm a fair-weather flower, crumbling under adversity and hiding out the storms. I see this resilience every day at Welcome Home - my spirit is becoming well-acquainted which such an attitude. Victor Frankl, in Man's Search for Meaning, reminds us that the last of human freedoms is the ability to "choose one's attitude".
That's what I'm learning from my friends at Welcome Home. What an awesome place to serve! Want to join me?
I'm more than half-way there in reaching full support for my ministry. If you'd like to join me, standing defiantly against the wave of despair and fear during these rough economic times, drop me a line!

60/60 experiment

I began an experiment today- every 60 minutes my Blackberry chimes to remind me that God is in control, He's with me, and He's at work in my world! It's something that I'm doing with some fellow travelers, based on Soul Revolution by John Burke.
It began as a rather non-descript day, with no clear, demanding agenda to give focus to my time. So, I prayed this prayer,

"Good morning, Christ. I love you! What are you up to today? I want to be part of it. Thank you."

I power-walked to catch the bus. "ding!!" Coming towards me on the sidewalk was a neighbour. Neither of us speaks each other's language, so our communications are always a bit comical... Today she asked about the sold sign on my house and I was blessed to have her suggest that she could come visit me once I move into my new digs downtown!

My lunch appt forgot:). "ding!!" I got to chat with one of the refugees I love to share life with at Welcome Home. He was laid off over a month ago and I've been asking God to help him find a job as well as keep him from being discouraged. What a resilient man. Though he still cannot understand this Canada, where someone could be laid off with no notice, he decided to use this time wisely and enrolled back in ESL until he gets a job. Anyone know of someone that's hiring??

Oops, I forgot that I've got a phone conference in half an hour- better hurry and catch the bus... why was I so forgetful?? "ding!!" Look who's standing at the bus stop! A former resident of Welcome Home greets me with a big hug. I catch up on his life and encourage him. (We haven't finished praying for his spiritual search, either.)

"ding!!" Now I'm not sure if I should apologize for being a bit late or not; after all, was that a God-thing at the bus stop? I enter into the phone conference with a fresh awareness that my day has already been filled with God's direction, provision and blessing. I can surely expect the help He wants to provide as I invite some new insights and perspective from a co-worker!

Moments in Time

Well, it's 18 years since we made the move from the rolling prairies to this wonderfully hilly ("Can we stop so I can run down that hill, mom?") country.

Today I took a hike up Mt Trashmore, as it was then known. It's an amazing spot where the beauty of the surrounding region can be clearly seen, especially on such a brisk day. I remembered rolling into town full of anticipation and also a bit of trepidation. The last of our preschoolers heading off to school, a church ready and eager to welcome us with open arms...

Over the years I took many hikes to this windy vantage point. It is a good place to pray over the city, a lousy place to try to fly a kite! Often the prayers were for the neighbourhood, now they zero in on a 2nd story rooming house downtown where seekers from around the world are coming to us.

Today I stopped to thank God for the paths He's led me down and process the far-reaching impact of choices made. My family has grown up and flown the coop, the house sold this week and it's time to embark on some new trails. Who'd a thought... but then, I am reminded that "all our days are written in His book" and gratitude, confidence return.

I read a wake-me-up quote last week in Brother Andrew's Secret Believers:

The purpose of the church cannot be to survive or even to thrive, but to serve. How do you serve?
...sometimes servants die in the serving...

You and I ARE the church. We don't know much about the "die in serving part", but believers around the world do. I receive this challenge and am setting my course towards serving.
Will you join me?

By the way, I'm trusting God to help me buy a place in downtown Kitchener so that I have somewhere to "lay my head" come the end of May :).

Back-Seat Drivers

One of the great things about taking the bus in the winter is that "who cares what the weather and driving conditions are", they're not MY problem! No worries over my car not starting, the driveway or roads not being plowed, the pending ice storm... As long as I'm willing to wait and dressed warmly (thanks for the new parka, mom and dad) it's a carefree time.

However, there's always a down side. I have absolutely no say, no control in where the bus goes, when it might roar past me a mere 10 seconds in its wake, when it can't make the icy hill or when the service is threatened by strike. I realized that riding in a bus is the only time when I'm NOT tempted to be somewhat of a back seat driver, precisely because there's no one on the bus who cares one whit about my opinion!

A refugee's experience is painfully similar. While such dependency means that there are some elements of being carefree, there's so little control over the process of being accepted as a resident, or finding any space in an ESL class, or having their workplace credentials recognized or even moving the hearts of decision-makers so there's a place to live once they arrive in the country. In most ways, no one cares one whit about their opinion, either!

That's where I am leading a team of committed, compassionate servants who are making it our agenda to care, to listen and to offer some measure of control over their lives for the refugees who make Welcome Home their home. Although it can be annoying at times, back-seat drivers are indeed welcome here!