Treasures of the Snow

"All buses are canceled..."  the message drifts across the radio waves and into my sleepy brain and suddenly all my plans for the day are rearranged.

And it's okay.  We still did home school, but it had an extra flavor of fun because the big sister was home, popping in and out of the room with her witty comments.  Instead of rushing so I could go off to work we lingered over the marvels of some sea creatures and discussed pacifism at length.  All the while my firstborn was sorting laundry and baking cookies.

The snow piles deeper and the wind carves huge drifts and we snuggle down on the couch to watch a movie and eat not one, but two or three gooey warm chocolate cookies.  In the middle of the afternoon.

I'm really disappointed about the canceled evening plans.  I'll grieve a little, but I know that other happy evenings await me.  Giving thanks in all things...

You can call me Type A, and I'll admit to being goal-oriented, but today the gift--wrapped in fluffy white--is in finding joy and contentment in not being the boss of my universe.  In having my plans upended and finding it's not the end of the world.  The to-do list will still be there tomorrow and it may be a little longer, but it won't be a disaster--some of it may even turn out to be completely irrelevant.

The Book of Job talks about "treasures of the snow"...

Today I have found "treasures of the snow" in being relieved of the compulsion to keep my busy universe on its axis.  It's all safe in His hands, the ability to do any of it only possible by His grace, the sense of accomplishment a gift for another day,

Job 38:22 KJV

Anchored to Truth

I convinced my husband to sign up for dance classes. Really. We grew up in a church culture that frowned upon dancing, but my body longs to move with music. You'd think that longing would translate into some sort of instinctive ability, but it doesn't. I need to be told. I need to envision diagrams on the floor and follow them. I think it must take a lot of patience to teach me. Yet, once I get it, I think it's a blast.

At dance class the instructor intervened several times with helpful tips. Close to the end of the class he approached me and told me I just wasn't doing it right. "What's wrong? Why can't you get it?"

Panic.

I was back in grade nine algebra with the teacher using similar words. What, indeed, is wrong with me? If you don't know and I don't know, then we are in dire straits. Maybe there is something "wrong" with me. Just as in grade nine, I realized at this moment that everyone was looking at me. And at my abysmal failure. As in grade nine, the floor didn't open up and swallow me. Thankfully, with maturity has come the ability to endure to the end with a modicum of dignity.

I awoke several times in the night with a swirl of thoughts and emotions to process. Being a less-than-great dancer isn't a big deal. The response, however, was a clue to something significant.

Fast forward a few days and I find my girls are frequently shrieking in frustration at their brother and I'm repeatedly scolding him for tormenting them. The poor boy needs some better weather so he can burn off his energy outside. In the wake of all this chiding, he sidles up to me and asks, "Do you still like me?" And then, "Why?"

In that moment I recognize that it's in times of weakness and failure that our identity is assaulted. Who am I? Stupid? Again? Failure? Bad?

Knowing who we really are is the key to getting through these rough waters. By "knowing" I mean that you've spent so much time pondering and meditating on it, that it's what bubbles to the surface in difficult times. Being anchored to truth doesn't mean that we won't be tossed about, but it does mean that we won't be shipwrecked.

What sort of tapes play in your head when you recognize failure? What does your Papa say about you?

"...I long for him (my darling child) and surely will have mercy on him." Jer. 31:20b

"My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness." 2 Cor 12:9

"For God has said, 'I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.' So we can say with confidence, 'The Lord is my helper, so I will have no fear. What can mere people do to me?'" Heb. 13:5-6

Secure in these truths we can venture into life boldly risking vulnerability and failure.

I've sometimes wished to reduce God to a fairy god mother who would magically wave a wand over my life and render everything perfect inside and out. He provides so much more. He offers to walk with us, picking us up when we fall, and lending His strength. All the while we grow from strength to strength and from glory to glory.

"I love you, Lord; you are my strength.

The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock,

in whom I find protection.

He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety.

I called on the Lord, who is worthy of praise, and he saved me from my enemies. The ropes of death entangled me; floods of destruction swept over me.

The grave wrapped its ropes around me; death laid a trap in my path.

But in my distress I cried out to the Lord; yes, I prayed to my God for help.

He heard me from his sanctuary; my cry to him reached his ears."

Psalm 18:1-6

Friends

What do you think of when you think of "friend"? Your answer will have a lot to do with your personality and your love language.

The first thing I think of when I consider my close friends is that they know what I'm really like and they love me anyway. They've seen the good, the bad, and the ugly (Literally--think green facial stuff at sleepovers.). They know my imperfections but love me and honour me as though I'm always at my best. They call me on stuff and give me a boot in the you-know-where when I need it. They make me laugh at myself and challenge me to use my gifts when I might regard those gifts as "less than" or insignificant. I feel really safe when I'm with my friends. I count them as my greatest treasures after God and my family.

On Easter Sunday I was perusing scriptures about the effect of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. I thought on the following verses for a while:

God will also count us as righteous if we believe in him,
the one who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead.
He was handed over to die because of our sins and
he was raised to life to make us right with God.
(Romans 4:24-25)

My heart was filled with awe and worship as I considered all that Christ willingly suffered so that I could be right with God. What an incredible gift. I was aware of His kingly majesty and how His nature is good and holy.

I read further on:

So now we can rejoice in our wonderful new relationship
with God because our Lord Jesus Christ has made us friends of God.
(Romans 5:11)

Friends.

Of God.

I was overcome by the intimacy of that phrase. To be made righteous and right with God is an immeasurable gift--to be friends of God is so personal. He didn't go through that tremendous suffering just so I could be ransomed--though that's gift enough!--He also wanted me make me His friend.

He wanted to make us His friends.

The Lord of all creation, King of Kings and Lord of Lords, the One who formed mountains, designed a platypus, scattered stars, and created laughter wants to be your friend. He likes you. The fact that you're not perfect isn't news to Him. (He took care of that for you.) He wants to be with you. He wants to laugh with you and comfort you. All that a true friend is, that's what He wants to be for you. The sacrifice that Jesus gave makes it possible. Rest in His love, rejoice in His gift, receive it!

A Strong Tower

The name of the LORD is a strong tower;

the righteous run to it and are safe.

Proverbs 18:10

I'm a very visual person. This can be a blessing or a curse. If I'm trying to picture how I want something to look, it's great. If you give me "too much information", well, I could be scarred for life! My Papa knows this about me so sometimes He answers my questions in wonderful visual ways.

Just this week I was remembering one of these answers He gave to me in July of 2007. We were living in a camping trailer as we tried to finish the house we were building. It was pretty stressful. I don’t like moving even when I’m looking forward to it. Nothing was convenient. No shower, no laundry, no stove, no privacy. It had to have been the windiest July on record. I couldn’t even barbeque because the flame would blow out. I had tried really hard to be organized so things would run smoothly in this transition time and yet it seemed like I was daily rummaging through boxes looking for the one thing that we absolutely needed. My husband was under a lot of pressure to get the house completed and get back to work.

I was playing a favorite CD and trying to encourage myself. I found myself singing enthusiastically to a song based on Proverbs 18:10: “The name of the Lord is a strong tower, the righteous run to it and are safe.” I prayed, “Lord, how do I run to your name? How is your name a ‘strong tower’? I really want to be safe right now from so many different things. Discouragement. Frustration. Impatience. Anger.”

No sooner had that prayer formulated in my heart than one of my girls came running toward me yelling, “Mom!! He’s trying to hit me!” As soon as she called out, “Mom!” her little tormentor slowed down and by the time she reached me he was actually off and running in the other direction.

I laughed out loud! Probably not the reaction the kids were looking for, but God had answered my prayer. I saw in living colour that when I call on His name and I’m running toward Him the enemy knows he’s already been defeated.

I think I often call for help, all the while cringing and huddling with my hands over my head as though I'm still expecting the enemy to strike. It helps me to visualize myself running with confidence toward my Papa while my enemy backs off because he knows he has no chance of succeeding. Seeing with the eyes of faith what is really happening in a difficult time makes all the difference in our posture.

The trailer didn’t get any bigger and it was weeks before things got a little more convenient, but I found myself a little more peaceful as I “ran into the strong tower” calling out, “Father! Abba! I need you!”