daily life as life goes on . . .

As a youth my interest in faith was interesting!

I was given various examples of belief.  Sitting on a chair that I had never sat on before, trusting in my parents.  The list increased as I got older.

The list was not the experience.

If all I needed was knowledge, then I had a superb list of what others had said and done.

But what about believing that God would give us children when we were barren?  What about believing that giving money away to help a young couple was possible on our own slim budget?  What about entering into relationships with unstable individuals believing that we would remain unharmed and they would be transformed?

Those are walking papers! 

Until you walk the talk – live the list – your faith will not grow.

We have entered into a new adventure.  We are currently looking for a house.  In a town where houses are scarce and prices high.  We have peace that God will provide.  He has in the past, and he will once again.

That is faith.

June 18 – July 17 the Muslim world will celebrate Ramadan.  I came across a statement about praying for Muslims during Ramadan.  Sorry, I haven’t got the source written out for you, but as with most things nowadays, you probably could Google it to find out.

When we pray for Muslims during Ramadan we will be praying with them.  When we pray that they will get to know God better, we also will learn new things from God.  God loves Muslims and in prayer we will be able to love them too, which is much better than being afraid of them.

I’ve made this time a prayer time for close to a decade.  My own awareness of Muslims and their practices has increased.  But more than that, my love for them is also increased.  In fact, I find sitting and conversing with Muslims is an invigorating thing – might even learn a few things from them!!

I bought a home.

NOTE:  I did not say, I bought a house.

Yes, we are currently looking for a house.  Dirt and wood type of house. 

But, I did not say I bought a house.

I did buy a final resting place. 

When my body is back to dust – I will have that dust in a crypt here in Kindersley.  My spot will be one of a number housed in a columbarium.

We all have a sense of place.  As we grow up, we remember well the dirt we walked on.  We may not have liked our childhood, but we can tell you where it took place.  We may have loved our childhood, and the dirt was a big part of that.

I was born in Kindersley, but moved at a young age.  I came back in my 20’s and experienced the same dust blowing all around me.  I left for 25 years and upon my return, I think the dust was merely recycled as it slipped into my house.

And now, it looks like I’ll keep seeing that dust – metaphorically – for the rest of my life and then some!!!

Mental health seems to be a topic of concern nowadays.  While the sphere of discussion is broad, there is a point of contact for me in the whole area of grief and suffering, stress and transition.

I recently listened to a mental health webinar (a seminar on the web – without the interaction and sense of presence found in an actual face-to-face session – an information session and not an interaction time – a rant for another day!). 

One speaker made the point that the church should be a “safer place to suffer.”

Tullian Tchividjian (in an article in the latest Prairie’s Servant Magazine, p. 12) makes the following statement about being in “church”

When an admission of suffering or weakness is interpreted as a lack of faith, honesty soon falls by the wayside, leaving the sufferer lonelier than before.

The church (the people, not the building) needs to be as safe, or safer than the bar, or the local service club, or the neighbours next door.  We need to believe that God is not surprised by pain and suffering and their consequences.  We don’t need to deny them either.  A listening ear is paramount.  A recognition of the anger and trauma of loss is necessary.

We have heard that for some time.  Hopefully our practice is improving.

The other side to this is when a sufferer quickly steps out and returns to a “normal” approach to life.  Corney’s wife died, and within a very short time he was again greeting people at the door to the church.  His enthusiasm was catching and he was the encourager, instead of the one needing encouragement. 

Soon an underground discussion started, trying to find ways to “help” Corney deal with his loss.  He should be grieving, he should be sad, he should be . . .

Corney was fine – the others weren’t.  Sometimes a safer place to suffer means letting go of our ideas of the timeline of sorrow, and exploring with honesty a person’s current life.

That’s when we can be a safer place to suffer!