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On Sunday I preached on being crucified with Christ.

Now, for most people that phrase is totally foreign.  Crucifixion is a form of execution.  Not nice 2,000 years ago, still not nice today.  The idea is that we decide to be a follower of Jesus by giving up on ourselves and letting Jesus lead.

In the church, this practice is the orthodox view of Christianity.  Within that heritage there are a number of areas that are fairly well defined.  I mentioned some of these on Sunday, relating that in our society we will be “crucified” if we hold to these varying statements.

Over the years, even within the church, there have been those who have decided that they would like to widely vary from these time tested statements.  And so, we live in a society that has what I would call heretical views on various areas. 

The question for many of us is, how far away from our heritage do we go before we become heretical?  The councils of the churches over the years have helped to determine this (now I’m into a history lesson!!).  The straightforward meaning of Christian Scripture gives guidance.  And, I might add, for many who are exploring differing views, the Spirit of God pinches and pleads – until either a decision to return is made, or the voice is ignored.

Thoughts on meditating on my own sermon!  I guess if the preacher doesn’t listen, why should anyone else 🙂

Today is a day off.

Now, for the last few weeks I have had a number of “days off”.  Traveling here and there, visiting friends, family and fiance.  Accumulating hours of work to accommodate for the days off has been tiring.  Worthwhile, but tiring.

Today is the first day in quite awhile that I have stayed home, done “home” things and enjoyed the quiet.

I started the day changing out a washer on a tap.  I had set aside an hour or two – you never know.  Done in 15 minutes.  And wondering why I hadn’t worked on this weeks ago.

Then off to figure out the fixing of my garage door opener.  Yesterday some gears had been stripped and the door no longer opened.  A replacement would be easier in the long run – other things could start to go on a 20 year old motor and system. 

The local hardware store suggested a simple solution.  I brought the system home and looked it over.  Other than the brand name being different, everything else proved to merely be replacing old parts with new.  In a few hours the garage door is opening as it should!

And to finish off the early afternoon, my daughter phoned. 

How good a day is that!!

Not often do I have a combination day of coffee and chocolate.

Coffee is not my preferred beverage and I seldom drink it.  In the midst of the morning’s activities, I combined coffee with chocolate, not realizing what most people know.  Two shots of caffeine are better than one!  And one is more than enough for me.

By mid afternoon (the morning repast was in my blood system by then) I was well on the way to a day of busy-ness.  Not that there weren’t things to be done – there were. 

Every once in while I would look to see how the time was going.  Way too fast!  And so I ended up skimming past coffee break (good thing – didn’t need more coffee!), into the supper hour and past the nine o’clock hour without feeling a need for a break.

The operative word here is “need” for a break.  By 10:00 in the evening I was starting to yawn, and I sensed the caffeine had worn off. 

As unusual as this event was, I’m just not sure being artificially pumped up is the best way to complete all the tasks of a day.  Which makes me wonder how a Tim Horton’s society survives! 

At a fast pace, but at what price?

The days of mourning are never done.  Nor should they be.  Days of hopelessness, on the other hand, are devastating.

Soon after my wife, Jill’s, death, I determined to follow the injunction of Christian Scriptures – “we do not mourn as those who have no hope.”  I listened to a song by Michael W. Smith called “Welcome Home” and imbibed of the truth that Jill has a much better place where she now lives, and moves and has her being.  I thank God for that.

My tears are far fewer these days.  I do not fear the coming days.  I am excited to have a new relationship, which while different, has the sense of God written in bold letters over our togetherness.

But, yesterday I had tearless, fearless, wordless grief.  I was tired (and perhaps that was a catalyst).  More than that, I was returning to tasks that reflected the busyness of days spent with Jill.  Those were days where she provided a pillar of strength. 

I miss that. 

I did not cry – although my soul wept.  I did not fear the day – although my emotions were roiling within me.   I cannot explain what happened – this blog is a very feeble attempt.  All I know is that Jill was not there and I missed her.  And God was there and I was sustained.

Tearless, fearless, wordless grief directs me to God – where I know that I have complete and utter safety, security and satisfaction!  Thank you, Jesus!