It is amazing how life changes when something happens outside of the routine of life. Of course, the birth of a baby, the death of a parent, but also everything in between.
On Wednesday morning L's mother-in-law found her husband paralyzed on the floor in their bathroom. To the local hospital first, then to Edmonton. By that time the son has made the trip north: ripples--not going to work today, pack a bag and go to Edmonton, phone the rest of the family.
Later in the day L. decided to go north as well: ripples--her sister takes time off from work to drive her there, oma and opa will look after the grand children overnight.
Then the snow starts: ripples--they can't come home as planned, will have to stay another night, visiting with brothers and sisters-in-law.
In the mean time everyone has to deal with the results of the stroke: memory loss, poor vision, numbness. Ripples--no more work, rehab., changes in retirement.
Everywhere people are praying.
And God answers prayer!
The prognosis has changed from poor to total recovery! Ripples-- increased faith, joy, appreciation for what is.
Saturday, 20 April 2013
Made into His likeness
Then God said, "Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness"... (Gen.1:26)
That's how we were created.
But I have noticed that we also have that desire within us. We want to create the people around us in our image. We expect them to think like us, believe like us, live like us, dress like us...
We are critical of other lifestyles, how people use their money, how they live, because we think the only right way of living is the one we live.
What is the answer?
How can we come to an agreement to live a certain way without expecting everyone to be like us?
When God took the Israelites out of Egypt, He was faced with a group of people who had grown up with Egyptian gods, and some oral history about where they came from. To make them into a unified and holy people, He gave them directions for living that would please Him.
We too have come out of the Egypt of slavery to sin, into the wilderness, on our way to the Promised Land. God saved us through faith in the sacrifice of His Son. He wants to make us into a Holy and separated people, who live according to His will.
We can find God's will in the Bible. As a gift He has given us the Holy Spirit to help us.
And we will be made into His likeness.
That's how we were created.
But I have noticed that we also have that desire within us. We want to create the people around us in our image. We expect them to think like us, believe like us, live like us, dress like us...
We are critical of other lifestyles, how people use their money, how they live, because we think the only right way of living is the one we live.
What is the answer?
How can we come to an agreement to live a certain way without expecting everyone to be like us?
When God took the Israelites out of Egypt, He was faced with a group of people who had grown up with Egyptian gods, and some oral history about where they came from. To make them into a unified and holy people, He gave them directions for living that would please Him.
We too have come out of the Egypt of slavery to sin, into the wilderness, on our way to the Promised Land. God saved us through faith in the sacrifice of His Son. He wants to make us into a Holy and separated people, who live according to His will.
We can find God's will in the Bible. As a gift He has given us the Holy Spirit to help us.
And we will be made into His likeness.
Monday, 15 April 2013
little town/drugs
Ours is a small town, just over 1000 occupants on 6 streets and avenues, and three drives.
We don't have a school for our kids, they get bussed out of town to elsewhere. You would think such a small town was safe from drugs, but it isn't.
Right in the middle of the few streets and avenues is a large house. It started out as a plain small house, but every so often it got built onto. The last addition was a second floor. In the diminishing back yard is a play house with flags, just like any other house with boys might have.
And that's where the local king of drugs lives.
In our town you might see a girl, waiting at dusk by the railroad tracks, for a small package. Or, on your walk to church, you might find a pill bottle filled with green stuff. Or you might wake up early one morning to the sirens of neighbouring police cars, surrounding the house. Or you hear that your son was offered pills from a kid down the street.
We're just a small town, but big enough to have drugs!
We don't have a school for our kids, they get bussed out of town to elsewhere. You would think such a small town was safe from drugs, but it isn't.
Right in the middle of the few streets and avenues is a large house. It started out as a plain small house, but every so often it got built onto. The last addition was a second floor. In the diminishing back yard is a play house with flags, just like any other house with boys might have.
And that's where the local king of drugs lives.
In our town you might see a girl, waiting at dusk by the railroad tracks, for a small package. Or, on your walk to church, you might find a pill bottle filled with green stuff. Or you might wake up early one morning to the sirens of neighbouring police cars, surrounding the house. Or you hear that your son was offered pills from a kid down the street.
We're just a small town, but big enough to have drugs!
Small town suicide
The house always looked dark, even when the lights were on. Years ago there was a small yipping dog in the yard that showed that someone was living there. In the Winter there were car tracks to show someone left or had come home.
Then the doggie died.
It was hard to tell if the occupant was home or not, with a job that required him to be gone 3-4 weeks at a time.
Then there were no more car tracks.
Then there were the ambulance and police.
The car was in the garage, and the man in it, dead.
What a sad life, and I feel guilty that I never knocked on the door with Christmas cookies. He had parents, who did not visit until he was dead.
The house went up for sale.
But it is seldom that I walk past and not think about the man who committed suicide, so lonely in such a small town. Lord, forgive me.
Then the doggie died.
It was hard to tell if the occupant was home or not, with a job that required him to be gone 3-4 weeks at a time.
Then there were no more car tracks.
Then there were the ambulance and police.
The car was in the garage, and the man in it, dead.
What a sad life, and I feel guilty that I never knocked on the door with Christmas cookies. He had parents, who did not visit until he was dead.
The house went up for sale.
But it is seldom that I walk past and not think about the man who committed suicide, so lonely in such a small town. Lord, forgive me.
Sunday, 14 April 2013
Small town and its people
On my street lives an elderly lady in a blue and white mobile home. I used to see her walk by with her black spaniel. The yard of her place is a bit rough looking. The grass gets cut, but the edges are full of weeds, and so is the flower bed. Getting older is not easy. your mind still wants to do all those things, but the body does not cooperate anymore. Today her garden is covered with snow again, after an April snow storm. It is only slowly melting, with the weather just above zero.
A year ago she asked a young woman in town to watch her dog while she went to the hospital for surgery. Ah, anaesthetic is not good for the elderly.
She came home, physically okay, but her mind had gone wandering.
She stopped walking her dog. Now she can't dress herself anymore, she forgets to eat or drink, or go places. Left to her own devices she would just sit on the couch.
But beautifully, she is not left to her own devices. She has a son in town who takes her to her appointments, a grandson who loves her, a daughter-in-law who cares for her, and the young woman stayed and helps her with the daily things she can't do anymore.
She gets picked up for coffee visits every Wednesday, and goes to the hockey games with her grandson.
Small town at work, fellowship alive.
The dog died, much to her sorrow. She enjoyed its company, and even in her confused mind, she misses her. Getting older is not easy.
A year ago she asked a young woman in town to watch her dog while she went to the hospital for surgery. Ah, anaesthetic is not good for the elderly.
She came home, physically okay, but her mind had gone wandering.
She stopped walking her dog. Now she can't dress herself anymore, she forgets to eat or drink, or go places. Left to her own devices she would just sit on the couch.
But beautifully, she is not left to her own devices. She has a son in town who takes her to her appointments, a grandson who loves her, a daughter-in-law who cares for her, and the young woman stayed and helps her with the daily things she can't do anymore.
She gets picked up for coffee visits every Wednesday, and goes to the hockey games with her grandson.
Small town at work, fellowship alive.
The dog died, much to her sorrow. She enjoyed its company, and even in her confused mind, she misses her. Getting older is not easy.
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