Bees in My Bonnet

 Recently our Church held its annual Arts Festival and invited poets and artists to contribute. The theme was centred on our calling, vocation - in short: work.  I spent some time pondering what my work actually is. Because I am an on-the-go, sometimes-at-home, Mom, Spiritual Director, Piano Teacher, occasional Doula, and all-round Presence In The House For Anyone Who Shows Up, it took me some time to consider what it is I actually DO.  Here is the poem that emerged from these ponderings: My Work My work is to be - to taste, to see Every good gift tumbling Flowing into these outstretched hands To be Open, waiting. My work is to worship: To savor Sweet bread, broken, given; To lift up my fainting heart To yield all I am for One Who yielded to death for me. My work is to welcome. If every good gift is from above, Then so is the stranger at my door. In no time he won't be a stranger, But a fellow pilgrim seeking Good gifts from a good God. Welcoming is Opening: I open my hea...

On Friday I had the privilege of joining the 5th graders on their field trip to the Art Museum.  I say 'privilege' though taking my day to go be with a bunch of kids wandering around nice pictures isn't generally my cup of tea.  I relish time away from people, and don't gravitate towards large groups of people.  That said, I do want my kids to know that I took time to be with them on days when I could, and that I entered their experiences, even if I find it a bit exhausting.  This is the introvert me talking.  There were so many things I picked up on by wandering around art, and some were quite profound.  I didn't expect to encounter so many life-truths on a grade-school field trip. We started in the impressionist department, and observed the art.  I am not one who has a deep appreciation for visual art.  I think, 'Hmm, nice painting.' And then move on.  As a side note, it is such a joy to watch the kids gaze on these historic, classic wor...

Three weeks ago, Caleb and Priscilla were baptized. I was privileged to share a few thoughts beforehand. Here is what I said: Two words sum up what I am about to tell you: Legacy and Royalty.  Each of you getting baptized today has been handed a legacy of spiritual commitment. None of you were born with faith in Christ, but you were taught it: shaped by it.  This is your spiritual  legacy .  But mere exposure does not make a Christian. The Queen of England was eligible for her role because of her royal birth.  But sometimes one who might become King or Queen decides to go after something else – they choose to step away from the calling to the throne, and pursue their own desires.  It was over a year between the time the queen became officially queen and when she was publicly crowned in a coronation ceremony.  You have been a child of God since the day you put your trust in Jesus.  But today you are making it public – you are dedicating you...

Once upon a time there was a girl and she loved her father very much.  That girl was me, and I'd like to tell you about the man I called, 'Dad.' But, what can I tell you about my Dad?  You know him - have heard so much already.  But you can tell something about a person by what moves him - to tears, to anger, to action and where he finds joy. You know about Dad and his work - the stuff he did 'out there' (and sometimes it was way out there ).  But let me peel back the curtains a bit for you now - a behind-the-scenes peek into what it was like to be his daughter.  To many of you he was 'Sheldon the missionary' or, as I like to say, 'Sheldon, the pillar of Hong Kong' or 'Sheldon, Mr. Beautiful' (as he often introduced himself this way)!  To me, he was simply my Dad.  As a kid, I didn't pay a whole lot of attention to the stuff he did outside our home.  It can be tempting to over-focus on ministry to the neglect of family; thinking the ...

An extra day - a breather; a pause. Crisp air, rushing winds, but deadness still sits on parched and empty branches. Just enough warmth to warrant hope and a hint of squishyness in the mud - To promise the dawning of spring. Lent is a season of austerity - a time away from what is our common lot.  I put off a habit and add one that requires discipline.  I wonder what it is really all about - the ashes, mourning, reflection on spiritual life.  Perhaps the last moments of this winter are a visual, experiential reminder of the deadness of soul, which without Christ's redeeming - and resurrecting - work, would remain our permanent condition. Winter's deadness seems to say, "Come, and sit a while in this quiet emptiness.  No life is visible in me, yet we know resurrection is at hand.  But, for now, wait in it - feel what the absence of vibrant life is like.  And wait.  Yearn.  Hope - while it is dark and bleak.  Be still in it.  Do no...

Do not think much of me for the things I say. Do not think much of me for the things I do. In fact, do not think much of me at all. Think much of Christ - of His greatness, worth and love, and then, Only then... Think much of me as His broken child - needy, helpless and empty; Waiting to be filled by Him, To be soul-fed by His real food and bonded to Him by His real drink. I thirst, and am nothing but a hungry child. Think much of my want, my lack, my nothingness. And think much of the Christ I love; the perfect Treasure of grace and truth, Whose supply abounds. There is nothing much to think of me, And oh, so much to think of Him.

Someone asked me today what I thought my trajectory might be for 2016.  I said I really have no idea.  It isn't something one can answer off the cuff, if that one is me, I suppose.  After some thought I'm sure I will come up with something.  I like the word 'trajectory' better than 'goals', 'ambitions', or the dreaded, 'resolutions'.  (Sounds so final, and defining and confining, that one). You may have ideas for my proposed trajectory.  Or not.  But regardless, I felt a word of poetry was in order, because it has such rich meaning, and a great message for us all.  And since I didn't write it, I can commend it to you: Sleepers, Awake These are the dangerous days Christmas elation is past ornaments now put away bells are no longer ringing carolers cease their singing clean snow slowly grays. These are the dangerous days as we turn from adoring the child to adding up income taxes  to writing thank-you letters no ...

This past Sunday Caleb was asked to close out the Kids' Christmas Program with a short talk.  He and I collaborated on it a bit and so I'll put it here in case anyone wants to read it.  This is the unedited version - his was a bit shorter. Why Does Christmas Matter? In this season of Advent we wait - looking ahead to Christmas day - the day we remember and celebrate the birth of our Lord Jesus.  For us kids, front and center of our minds is of course  the presents we look forward to opening - and the goodies, sweets, treats and desserts that we will enjoy in the coming weeks.  For many of us, we imagine sipping hot chocolate by a warm, softly glowing fire and the songs of children - singing of truths we can hardly grasp in our own minds.  The songs we have sung and played today contain meanings and depths we can only hope to someday begin to understand. The birth of Jesus means more than a tree, presents, lights and fancy feasts.   So, let's expl...

A favourite hymn of mine.  I played it yesterday - here it is: Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish, Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel. Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish; Earth has no sorrow that heav’n cannot heal. Joy of the desolate, light of the straying, Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure! Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying, “Earth has no sorrow that heav’n cannot cure.” Here see the bread of life, see waters flowing Forth from the throne of God, pure from above. Come to the feast of love; come, ever knowing Earth has no sorrow but heav’n can remove. I recorded myself playing it yesterday: Click here to listen to the music.

Dear Priscilla, You are only the tender age of 12 right now, and your piano lessons are progressing very nicely. You are a far more dilligent, faithful student than I ever was at your age.  I appreciate your hard work and the joy you display in playing.  I want to share with you my thoughts on how I view playing the piano - especially in a Church setting.  Maybe someday you will find yourself before a congregation, or in an empty room with a lone piano beckoning to you.  Either way, you will have an audience.  And you will have the opportunity to worship. Like the woman with the alabaster jar, you take the precious accumulation of your skill and preparation and break it open before the God you worship and adore.  You allow the music to pour out as an offering of love, and as a gift to each listener.  The gift is meant for the Object of worship, but the fragrance spreads abroad in each heart that lends its own adoration to the moment.  The ...

We have Christmas at Christmas time.  We have Christmas in July.  But today I'd like to celebrate Christmas...once again.  I should save my thoughts for another time, I suppose.  But these are the overflow of my heart today... I have been mulling over the thought of 'inner healing'.  Yes, I put that in quotes so you can catch my meaning - is it real?  What is it exactly?  How do you know when you've experienced inner healing ?  I mean, really.  What do people mean when they go through life and experience some heartache or tragedy or trauma and then come out of it through some "journey" and arrive on the golden shores waltzing under the welcome banner of "You have now entered INNER HEALING.  Enjoy your stay." I don't mean to mock it.  Okay, maybe I do.  Maybe because it is hard to grasp - and I wonder what it looks like for each of us - and that begs the question, do we all need some experience of inner healing?  Maybe...

It has been less than a week since Aunt Lydia made her transfer from earth's shadows to heaven's glory.  I can just hear her voice, with a chuckle, saying, "If I'd have known how great this would be, I would've booked my trip sooner!" Her birthday was December 19, just one day after mine.  Because of that, and because kids tend to think the day is somewhat significant, I have always felt a closeness to her.  That and because she was my aunt meant I could tell her almost anything and not get in trouble for it.  Aunts are supposed to fill that place in a kid's life, I guess.  They are supposed to be a non-parent, family-type who can get away with spoiling their niece or nephew and listen to them complain about everything under the sun - including secret opinions of other relatives. Aunt Lydia loved beauty.  She always had growing things spread around her house - perhaps I got a little touch of that in me.  I love the magic of planting and growing - ...

Hannah has been slow to talk.  This is no surprise as all but one of our kids was behind.  But she seems to have perfect pitch.  Before she could say a word we knew what song she was singing.  It was unmistakable. When we went to the airport when she was about 10 months old, to pick up Grandpa from Hong Kong, she would not settle.  She didn't like staying in her seat.  She squirmed and began to cry.  Her cries escalated.  At some point Grandpa decided to sing her his favourite song.  She quieted immediately.  Every time he stopped she'd start crying again.  So he sang and he sang and he sang.  Somehow that song has bored its way into her memory and we continue to have to sing it to her, over and over. She now can talk some and has some of the words - which are barely recognizable.  She will sing when she's bored, when she's doing something, when she's sick and weary.  She will sing the same lines over and over. ...

Today I have a guest post from Ryan Guerra who is Worship Pastor at our Church (Water's Edge Bible Church in West Chicago).  I wanted to write some thoughts on Lent, but after reading his I decided not to!  Thanks Ryan, for sharing with us! The Three Gives Let’s do Lent better. Let’s redeem it more fully. Let’s consider it Biblically. Instead of Lent being a time of simply “giving up,” make Lent a time to “give of” and “give over.” (Isaiah 58)  Make it a lifestyle.  I write this primarily as a reminder to myself; someone who does not practice Lent religiously, but loves the potential  spring board of Lent to encourage us toward a life that is increasingly committed to God and His Kingdom. Whether during Lent or any other day, if we “give up” without resolve to also “give of” and “give over” then we are only partially fulfilling the call to be imitators of Christ. (Phillipians 3:10, Ephesians 5.1-2)  Christ became a man when He humbly GAVE UP wh...

Last night there was a ladies event at Church titled 'Stone Soup'.  It involved the telling of the tale that we are probably all familiar with - of poor weary travellers longing for a meal and coaxing it out of stingy villagers.  It got me to thinking - especially after Janine's wonderful talk about all that keeps us from generously opening our hearts, lives and resources to others (insert shameless plug for Janine here: www.janinepetry.com - still don't know how to turn that blue)... I recognized a stingy-ness in my own heart.  I have to be honest that the thing I am most stingy with is not money, time, affection, serving, friendship or food!  It is my love that I am most apt to withhold.  And there is very good reason for this.  Reason - but not justification.  I guess I haven't figured out how to give love without making myself vulnerable to attack, rejection, pain, discouragement and frustration.  I look at how God loves and am awed that He...

...does not need its ego to be stroked.  It does not need stylistic preferences to be performed.  And in all honesty - a truly worshiping heart acknowledges the Object of worship even above the objective of it.  A worshiping heart seeks to bless an audience of One.  It does not seek to perform for mere earthly hearers.  Worshipers recognize that the goal is to enjoy, bless, hallow, exalt, rejoice in, delight in, declare truths about, and bring laud and honour to their rightful King. My worship belongs to God.  If it is in the quietness of my own heart - that is enough.  But it could go farther.  It could go to a piano and bring rejoicing to a silent room.  Or it could go even farther - it could go to human listeners who rejoice together with my worship efforts.  Or it could remain hidden and quiet, on a shelf for only God to enjoy.  Either way, I will choose to make it about Him, and not me. Worship belongs in the heart that lo...