Quarters

Images from Peggy's Cove, Nova Scotia.


Today is significant and memorable for two reasons: Mom and Dad!

Twenty five years ago they were joined for life in a rustic Catholic church in the little-known hamlet called Foremost. Today they have five children, 9,125 days of embarrassing, impacting, precious, and unforgettable memories, a farm and homestead that they work on with love and care, a church fellowship in which to grow and invest, and most importantly--a growing and intimate relationship with their Lord and friend, Jesus Christ.

Being gone from home has caused me to grow in my respect and love for both of you! You're my best friends, greatest heroes, confidants, counselors, and valued prayer warriors. The growing life of Christ in you is evidence of His intense and passionate love for you. Twenty five years isn't long: it's just a road sign letting you know that you're one step closer to Heaven.

I know that you will be faithful to continue running the race with confidence and purpose because of how you habitually exhort me to do just that.

I love you both.

And for the rest of you who have popped on my blog, I thought you might enjoy reading my sister, Chloe's, perspective on the past twenty five years of our parent's lives.

Here 'tis.

Hey you two wonderful people known as my propagators!

25 years ago, Dad had 50% more hair
Mom had 50% more body mass (and she was slim then!)

Dad had a skinny frame
Mom had a muscled physique

Dad had glasses
Mom had pit socks

Dad had traveled 300 miles
Mom had bounced a dozen drunks

Dad gave up his priestly ambitions
Mom gave up her future in breeding pigs

Dad started driving school bus
Mom stopped driving school bus

Dad had teeth, unlike his parents
Mom had teeth (all of them)

Dad had never hiked West Buette
Mom had never made Collin spaghetti sauce

Dad liked coffee
Mom liked raw oatmeal in milk

Dad owned

The Land of New Zealand

 

From Drudgery To Delight

How vision is born through communion with God

The busyness of doing swarms your day, your prayer closet is filled with cobwebs, worship is reduced to Sunday morning, those ten how-to steps just don’t cut it, crying out to God is seen as weakness, stalemates reign in the attempt to find harmony in head knowledge and heart intuition, fasting is a hard slog, and delight in Christ seems aloof and something only the ancient monks seemed to know and understand. Is this what transformation is supposed to look like?

Not at all. In fact, this description is much closer to the reality of drinking from our own broken cisterns rather than tasting and seeing the Lord’s goodness and beauty. We become weary from living in the cruel pendulum that swings from high exaltation of Christ and Spirit-led living, to the drudgery and despair of existing in a fallen world and eating yesterday’s manna. In the midst of this nightmare, we vainly hope for a radical transformation that requires no change on our part. So what is transformation, anyway? In essence, I believe it’s what happens when we allow the Holy Dove to move truth from the head to the heart.

Do you remember God’s words in Isaiah? “Why would you ever complain, O Jacob, or whine, Israel, saying, ‘God has lost track of me. He doesn’t care what happens to me’? Don’t you know anything? Haven’t you been listening? God doesn’t come and go. God lasts. He’s Creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. And he knows everything, inside and out. He energizes those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. For even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, They run and don’t get tired, they walk and don’t lag behind.”

We say we need God, but we continue to drink polluted water, rush ahead of His sovereign will, and become strained under the weight of worry and fear. The vision is marred in the midst of normal life, we overlook the original glory for which we were created, slip into the habits of the old man, become despondent when the troubles of normal life approach, and fail to remember that God longs to draw near in the trouble—helping us find the faith that is worth more than gold.

Ultimately, we forget that the Holy Dove has filled the redeemed with longings that He alone can satisfy.

How do we find our way back to the source? Journey back to the land of Edom, near Mont Hor, to one of the clearest portraits of Christ in the Pentateuch, where we find ready atonement, the necessity of decision—and transformation. The ready atonement is the bronze serpent, high and lifted up; the necessity of decision is the enigma of free will that is placed before all of us; and the transformation is the result of what Elisabeth Elliot called the glad surrender.

What is surrender but the relinquishing of my right and will and the embracing of His desires? Surrender lays down the shadow-land’s weapons and picks up the heavenly armor, preparing our spirits and minds for the war of our times, and ultimately engaging in the battle so few recognize. Surrender chooses to lay aside the weights that keep us from running the race; it’s disciplines our will, mind, and emotions according to the grid of Scripture; and prefers to delight in the Source of vision and purpose. Ultimately, surrender chooses to see Christ for who He is: the Holy and Perfect Word of God, Sacrificial Lamb, Resurrected Lord, and Merciful Saviour who now lives to intercede for us.

Turning drudgery to delight is akin to feasting from the table of grace rather than sponging on the floor, searching for crumbs from the table. The daily transformation takes time. It’s okay to sit in the highchair at the table of grace, learning to drink in His goodness, and feasting on His faithfulness.

So often I forget to think about life and go from day to day without seeing the ultimate reality. But I’m learning that God is in the present, and that’s where He wants me to live, too.

“I came that they might have life, and have it to the full.”