Friday, March 29, 2013

composition 12

... in honor of Good Friday.


Can words suffice to show your sacrifice?
Your arms stretched wide
Painfully wide for the world,
For the world that despised you.

The mocking, the spitting,
Your nailed flesh hanging

There's nothing I can add to this
Nothing I can do except

Thank you  
 

Sunday, March 24, 2013

to warmly receive

"Hospitality means primarily the creation of a free space where the stranger can enter and become a friend instead of an enemy.  Hospitality is not to change people, but to offer them space where change can take place.

Just as we cannot force a plant to grow but can take away the weeds and stones which prevent its development; so we cannot force anyone to such a personal and intimate change of heart, but we can offer the space where such a change can take place."

– Henri Nouwen

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

prodigal dog

My mom's side of the family got together one long weekend at our cabin when I was about eleven.  At the time, we had a miniature dachshund named Tessa who often got loose.  I remember standing in the neighboring property yelling her name, trying to get her to come to me.  When she finally came and I hooked the leash onto her collar, I scolded her for having run away.  "Bad dog!"

My Uncle Norm stood near and said, "Here, this is what you do.  When she comes back you say, 'good dog!' and show her you're happy with her.  That way she knows returning to you is the right thing."

Uncle Norm is awesome.


Tuesday, March 19, 2013

the cabin

In 1989 my parents bought an A-frame cabin in the interior of British Columbia.  It had a wood stove and no running water so we'd fill up large blue containers with push button spouts.  We'd heat the water on the stove to wash dishes and we'd go days without baths, but our grandparents lived half an hour away so that was handy.

The outhouse was also A-framed and beyond it a shed in which we kept our bikes.  There was a bike jump, a large rock embedded beneath the long pine grass.  Our Dad put up a swing and we had campfires at night.

My siblings and I made beaded bracelets and read a lot of Archie comics to pass the time.  Chris and I made up our own comics.  His were funnier than mine.

The winters were cold, some days probably around -20 celsius.  Sometimes I was afraid my butt would get stuck to the toilet seat in the outhouse, kind of like how your tongue gets stuck to a flag pole if you decide to lick it during freezing temperatures.

One cold night my sister, Stephanie, and I made the small trek to the outhouse together.  We somehow managed to drop the flashlight down the hole, but the partially frozen pyramid of poo happened to be quite high so we asked our Dad to reach in and get it out for us.

We always got super excited about driving to the steep, crazy big tobogganing hill.  It was tough getting up to the top, but it was all worth it for the fun slide down.

This afternoon I was at the cabin, which is only used as storage space now, and it brought back these memories.

Friday, March 8, 2013

i'm curious

Is it possible for someone to believe in God without acknowledging it?  1 John 4:7-8 says, "Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God.  Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.  Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love."

Isn't it true that just about everyone loves?  I have friends who classify themselves as non-Christian yet they're some of the most loving and gracious people I've met.  Is that not the work of Christ right there?  I believe it is.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

some interesting photojournalism


Check out these 39 photos taken by Sara Naomi Lewkowicz.

The abuse in and of itself is terrible, of course.  It's also sad that when confronted by police, the abuser lies and blames the victim, then tries to convince her to say he didn't do anything wrong.

Monday, March 4, 2013

composition 11


Humiliation, exaltation
It's not what we would expect
I am lost, I am found
I am found
I am found

The pain and the joy
Pain
Joy overflowing

I'm a raven, feathers black as sin
Feathers black as sin
Flying in the falling snow
Flying in the falling snow
White, white is the snow 

Flying, flying
Invited to soar to places unknown

Pure white
Pure white is the falling snow  
There was an error in this gadget