A Woman's Walk: July 2011

Jul 26, 2011

Let Us Come and Eat...

"I don't ever want to live in an Orphanage, Mama."
The most random thoughts escape the lips of my littlest beauty. Her imagination runs wild like river rapids.

"Why would you have to live in an Orphanage?" I question her.

"If you couldn't take care of me, wouldn't you bring me there?... Like, if you couldn't feed me?"

"Baby Girl, I would give up all I have to take care of you and feed you." I'm trying to give reason that her young age will understand.

"But, what if you had nothing, Mama. Then what?"
I can tell she needs to explore all the odds. Exhaust all the circumstances.

"I would still want you near me, no matter what. Besides, Baby Girl... even if we had nothing, we would always have Jesus."

My last statement ignited a grin on her tender face, from ear to ear, and broke the worry. The brightness of her smile lit up my heart.

"That's right, Mama! Did you know that Jesus calls himself 'The Bread of Life'? So, we wouldn't ever be hungry. He would take care of us and feed us, wouldn't He?"

The tears well in my eyes, and I smile at this beloved girl of mine. Precious and Delicate.
"Yes, yes He would."

"I knew it." she exclaims as she bounces off into the day.

Out of the mouth of babes, comes truth.
Simple foundational truths, we can learn from a child.

Jesus tells us "Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18:4)

"I am the bread of life. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh." (John 6:48,51)

Oh, Precious women... I thank God for you today!
I pray that we will all exhibit this child-like faith and believe in the One who will feed our spirits "real" bread. I pray that our relationship with Jesus will be deep, and wide, and all-consuming. May we truly know what it means to come to Him and feast.

Jul 18, 2011

Remembering Mom

The blazing sun scorched the sand as I made my way out of town along Canada’s most beautiful beach. My feet burned at each step. Sweat dribbled down my forehead and into my eyes making them sting. It was another blistering day at Sauble Beach.
The nauseating smell of over-cooked hot dogs and greasy fries consumed my nostrils as I hastened along the shoreline. Blowing sand tasted like dust in my mouth. I quickened my stride as I progressed toward Mom's weather-beaten home far down the beach.

Once past the fun-loving, laughter-filled beach lovers I found a sheltered spot near the towering hills of sand where I rested and watched the gently white-capped water. The soft, cream-colored granules sifted through my toes, tickling me as I hunkered down in the lee of the dunes. Here I had a bit of privacy for my grieving heart.

The greenish-blue water lapped at the shore like a puppy. Adults heedfully tended to toddlers at the water's nibbling edge. Mom enjoyed squatting there with my sister, giggling together.
Sandbars, lighter blue than the water around them, caught my eye: one, two, three, and four. I swam out to the farthest one through the frigid water with Mom at my side every summer as a child.

My eyes followed the dozen screeching seagulls swooping through the sky looking for scraps of food left by sunbathers. Occasionally, one dove down and snatched a rippled chip or piece of dried-out bread in its pointed yellow beak. More often, two or three made the plunge and I heard the raucous squabble over their garbage entree. I wondered if Mom, now living in heaven, could see them too; and if, like me, they made her smile softly and remember days gone by.

I licked my lips and tasted the salty tang of my perspiration. Maybe it was from my tears. I didn't know.

I focused beyond the gulls at the puffy white clouds lazily floating in the pale blue sky. Faintly, the groan of the beach swing reached my ears as some little person pumped higher trying to reach those fluffy cotton balls in God’s heavens. Mom pushed me on that splintered, wooden swing many years ago.

Detecting the sickly stench of exhaust and catching the jarring sound of car doors slamming I knew that my intimate nook was going to be invaded. I reluctantly rose to my feet, scooped up my discarded sandals and plodded up the sandy mound behind me.
Long slender dune grasses left tiny scratches on my knees. They faded quickly with a firm rub of my hand. I trusted God to soothe my soul as easily.

I turned back to look at the calm, beckoning water.

Someday I would return to enjoy its call, but not that day; no, not then.

- Written by Anita , A Woman's Walk author-

Jul 9, 2011

Exceptional Service

I recently experienced exceptional service at a local garden centre. I had been given two rose bushes last year for Mother's Day, which bloomed beautifully through the summer and fall, but which looked like dried leaves and twigs this spring. Fortunately, they came with a one year guarantee for replacement. Even though I returned them this week, two months past the one year date, I was cheerfully given plants amounting to the full value of my original purchase. The lady who served me, did so without reluctance and with a smile. Needless to say, her actions have influenced me to be a loyal customer who will be back; not for the low prices, but the excellent service.

This all got me thinking about my attitude toward service. Many times I'm like the clerk who will give you what is required, but only that and nothing more.

As a stay at home mom with five children, my life is about providing services: laundry, shopping, food preparation, cleaning, schedule organization and chauffeur service... just to name a few. I am not proud to admit that very few of these are provided with a smile. I often bemoan the fact that I am the one who's folding the laundry again, or I am the one still cleaning up the kitchen when everyone else has moved on to their next (relaxing) activity. And while my goal is to train my children, especially my boys, to do all aspects of housekeeping so that they will one day be a blessing to their spouses, there's still lots of things that I'm left doing.

I need to make a choice.

I can either serve reluctantly, or (at least somewhat) cheerfully. As with so many things in life, it comes down to having the right attitude.

I'd much rather be on the receiving end of good service, than providing it. Recently, I was reading in my Bible that even Jesus "did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”(Mark 10:45) This really challenged me, because if anyone deserves to be served, it's Jesus. Yet, he came not to be served but to serve others; even to the point of giving up his life. So, with Jesus as my example, I desire to look to be a servant, rather than to be the one who is being served. And while it may feel like I might collapse in exhaustion some days, I'm not in danger of yielding my life in service.

So, while your travelling through your life, I encourage you to notice when someone gives exceptional service. But even more importantly, strive to serve others- with a smile.

Jul 6, 2011

White Light

Blackness.

It's a dark room. The lights have been switched off. The silence is only broken by the constant gasping for breath.

It's a dark building. Empty and almost completely barren of life, walls stand lonely and in sorrow.

It's a dark street. The narrow alley is never lit by the beams of cars. Forgotten letters and newspapers litter the cracked pavement.

It's a dark night. Clouds have hidden the stars. The moon has left its watchful post in the sky.

It's a dark life sometimes.

But then the sun - the blessed sun -peaks over the horizon!

The sky becomes a canvas, splatted with cobolt blues, golden yellows, crimson reds, persian greens, and pastel lavenders. The loneliness of the street does not matter, nor the emptiness and fear that had been locked inside the dark room. Light has come, and the night is banished.

In awe and wonder, we ask ourselves, how is it these colours have now come? How has this miracle of beauty occured?

It's because of white light. White light is just basic light - any light that makes things visible. When it hits things - like the sky or the grass or anything else, it breaks apart. Parts bounce off, parts are absorbed. The parts of light that bounce off, are the parts that make the colour we see. The sky has turned to yellows, blues, greens, and more because those colours have bounced off and are returning to our eyes.

But what has that got to do with God?

God, I think, is a lot like white light. What I said before is true, it is a dark life sometimes. Sometimes we can't see the way. Sometimes we can't see anything. Sometimes we're blind.

God can take that blindness away. He illuminates our path for us. He turns our lonely darkness of confusion into something we can see and understand. He shows us which way to go on our journey.

But he does more than that too. He makes our journey beautiful. How? Because, just like how parts of white light reflect off of everything around us, parts of God reflect off of everything in this world. God - the wonderful creator of everything - has his fingerprints all over the world. Parts of him are reflecting off of everything around us!

But, just as we often miss the beauty of colours made by white light, we too often miss the reflections of God around us. We get distracted, or we are to preoccupied. We aren't looking for the beauty that is in God's reflection here on Earth.

When we're in a dark room, in a dark building, on a dark street, in the middle of a dark night, let's look to the east. Let's look for God. Let's look for the sunrise, for the light. Let's look not only for the white light that will guide our way, but also for the way the white light can turn a sorrowful scene into something breath-taking. Let's find his guidance and his reflection.

Your word is a lamp to my feet, a light to my path.

- Psalm 119: 105

Jul 5, 2011

Do you ever wonder?

Do you ever wonder....
What it would be like to talk to God?

Do you ever wonder...
What he would say?

Do you ever wonder...
If you tried, would he turn away?

Do you ever wonder...
What it would be like to talk to God?

Do you ever wonder...
what you would say?

Do you ever wonder...
how speaking to him would feel?

Do you ever wonder...
the comfort it would be, to be something real?

Do you ever wonder...
What it would be like to talk to God?

You don't need to wonder.
He is listening today.
You don't need to bow your head,
sit in a church,
have the right words,
to open your heart
and pray.