Hope Echoes in the Hollow Places

 For the audio recording 

at Hopestream Radio listen here.

May 21, 2014, once again my world crumbled before me.

My cardiologist looked stern into my eyes, like a father who lifts his daughter’s chin, to be sure he had my full attention and warned: you need to take it easy so we get to keep you around. I slumped on the inside and shifted my gaze to his shiny navy shoes tied with bright cobalt blue laces and choked on the lump in my throat.

I was 37 years old with three young children and my cardiologist couldn’t promise me months or even a few years to live. He couldn’t be sure how bad things were, but he knew something had gone terribly wrong with my heart and it wouldn’t hold up to much more. All that radiation they had blasted my three-year-old body had killed the cancer and left me riddled with horrific side-effects. Now the risks of open-heart surgery were astronomical he said and the chances of survival were slim. 



How do you keep on walking when burdens of life weigh you down?

In days of waiting, how do you take the next step?

In songs of lament, where is the joy?





In these times of trouble, don’t start by looking to your problems—they are always too great to bear. 

Always start with God. Look to the Lord.

The author in Lamentations 3 directed his thoughts to the Lord and reminded himself that he has hope because He trusts in the God of hope. Listen to his song:

“But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,“therefore I will hope in him.”

On days when grim problems spark fear, look first to the promises of God and your faith will be strengthened.

When your faith is so stifled you think hope may be lost, look to the Lord’s great faithfulness. Seek the LORD and his strength, hope against hope, believing in God who is faithful.

When you have come to the end of yourself, you will find rest in the sovereignty of God.



Look away from your troubles and unto Jesus. We see him in the garden of Gethsemane, the eternal God, the God incarnate, the God-man, full of sorrow and deeply distressed, his soul “crushed with grief to the point of death”.

For months I lived not knowing if I would wake up the next morning. I reminded myself to hope in God and that nothing would separate me from His steadfast love.

Life wasn’t pretty packages tied up neatly with strings those days. I needed to cling to the promises of a faithful God. I had to anchor my soul to the Rock of Ages.

I scratched out my muddled thoughts and occasionally I weaved poetic words as if I could run my hand over a patchwork quilt and smooth out all the unruly strands of life. Poetry dares to peel back the hidden song, cracks open the lament and exposes the joy.

August 2014, sixteen days before my surgeon sliced his scalpel right through to my beat-up heart, I hacked through deep heartache and hope echoed in the hollow places.



These were those simple, unpolished words I strung together:

“She's stuck.
Gone numb to the needs around her.
She wishes for tears to surge to relieve her parched heart
then she corks them when they threaten to flood her panting soul.

Dishes stack up in the sink, laundry piles spill over in the halls
till her little one wonders where all her clean underwear is.

The list of to-dos would be endless if she cared to write them down.
It's easier to pretend that there is nothing to do when you can't do them yourself.

What do these things matter anyway?
The world has gone mad.
Why should she care if beds are made?

Rain breaks from heaven like unstoppable tears.
Thunder roars and lightening flashes across the sky.
Something beckons her to look.

She turns her face toward the sky.
There are slivers of light;
Speckles of blue sky in the fast moving storm clouds.

Day after day she will wake up and notice that she did.
Her heart kept beating.
The storm rages on;
the madness races on.
Morning by morning she will speak to her own soul.
Hope in God.
It appears in this world that He may be asleep.
That while she lays low in the dust
she must cry out for Him
to wake up.

to Rise up.

to Come and rescue us from ourselves.

To Redeem us from the darkness
for the sake of His steadfast love.

Nothing will separate her from His love. Nothing.

She beholds the gifts of his love He graciously gives:
In the slivers of light and speckles of blue sky:
The way her brother comes and empties the dishwasher,
and friends bend their knees, and pick up the phone
to boldly speak truth to her in her darkness,
the way her husband keeps on loving her,
and her sisters know the ache and cry for her,
and her sisters-in-law cook meals for her,
and her Mama comes and get things in order,
and her Dad holds her,
and her children need her to laugh at the days to come.

In the snuggles, coos and smiles of her niece,
the belly laughter of her nephews,
the sweetness of watermelon,
and maple syrup on waffles,
and strawberry jam surprises,
the zucchini loaf,
and cookies
and spaghetti sauce
made lovingly by her nieces.

It’s the clean underwear for her baby girl on a new day,
and Lincoln Log villages her boy made in the living room,
and precious prayers with her daughter in the morning,
and the way he kisses her fast pulse on her neck at night.

It's the way the sunsets in their lives
and promises to rise again in their love.

Joy comes in the morning.

She looks back.
She remembers.
She speaks to her soul.

She may be stuck,
but not forsaken.

God never slumbers or sleeps.
He will not let her go.

In the darkest of days,
He is Light.
In the hatred in the world,
He is Love.
In the brokenness in the world,
He is Peace.
In all things,
He is Sovereign.

Come. Come to our help.
Make things right
and new
and beautiful.

Come, Lord Jesus. She cries with the saints who long for Him 

to Come. Come.

“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”

That Day He Proposed to Me on the Anne of Green Gables Bridge

Oceans of water has

flowed

under the bridge

since

in our young love

Seventeen years ago

today

He sang to me the love ballad

inscribed on his

heart

and 

He tenderly took my

hand

and 

We boldly walked

out 

on the battered bridge

together

and as he opened a red velvet box

the diamond danced in the light

on a golden band

and the

words

He declared down on bended knee

I will never forget

and the

one blazing word 

I breathed

to my beloved

I will never regret.

Consider The Lily: {What to do when you toil and spin and are totally spent}

I bend low, to consider, as it dances and sways, this lily in the field. 

I stoop down, drink it in, I ponder, I devour, 

I awaken to, and marvel at its splendor and beauty revealed

Look how God, in all His glory, has arrayed this exquisite flower. 

***
Why am I anxious and troubled, so desperate? you ask. 

I wonder too: Why do I fret and worry away every single day? 

Well, don't you know I tend to my little garden, this onerous task 

On my own! I must endure, move forward, I don't see another way. 

I cannot do it! The strength I need, I admit, I do not have. I toil and spin 

As the sun comes up and still as the day is done. 

I feed, clothe, scrub, laugh and love, and try to face it all with a grin. 

Ahhhh, in my weakness, I falter, I fail, for I, am only one. 

"Consider the lily" He says . . . 

My Father chides me with His gracious love. He opens the eyes of my heart to see:

His presence, provision, promises, His strength! How with grace He writes my story. 

While I'm tucked secure under His tender wing, He gives in abundance to me.

Joy comes when I surrender my worries to Him, and live to the praise of His glory. 

Proposal on the Anne Bridge

Fourteen years ago

today

He sang words to me

written from his

heart

and

he took my

hand

and

we walked

out 

on the bridge

together

and the

words

he spoke

I will never forget

and the

word

I whispered

I will never regret.

It is all about God’s Glory!

It’s a beautiful day to be on the ski slopes. The sun is bright and will add warmth to the day. My son, he is only concerned that he will not be given poles as though that would be the worst thing in the world. My daughter packs up the cooler with healthy snacks and looks forward to the adventure that is sure to come. Off they go with their Dad, off toward the rising sun, and we wave goodbye and murmur prayers on their behalf.

My little one and I head off for a morning walk and a lovely morning out together with friends climbing through a maze of colour in an indoor playground.

Back home, we sit quiet at the table, just two of us and share a simple meal of biscuits and cheese and chicken strips. I tuck her into bed for a nap and put on the kettle and light some candles and settle down for a quiet time. A quiet time in the middle of the day!! I pause in the quiet.

I could fill my time here with many things. But it is this thing that I started back when the sun was hot on the beach and sand rubbed between my toes. And I found myself seeking and needing to be saturated with the Word of God. I started this reading back in Genesis and I was to be done in 90 days.

I have always been great at starting new things. But, I am not always great at continuing. And this new year, I am focusing on the small things, but also on one word: proskartereo ~ forward, to endure. No, I did not complete reading the Bible in 90 days, and like in so others ways, I am a failure. Except this time, I didn’t want to read through just to check off my list, but for God to find me in my seeking Him in His Word.

I am thankful that I can continue. To move forward.

I open up the Book that I have been reading, slower now these last few months as the sun has lessened in intensity and our days have shortened and as life has sped up, and I find my book mark at Ezekiel 40. Ezekiel's vision of the new temple built. The study notes state that almost all interpreters agree that this is one of the most difficult passages in the Bible.

But the main things that jumps out is when the glory of the Lord filled the temple.

And the earth shone with His glory.

And Ezekiel fell on his face.

And I don’t make any claims for understanding much of what is being detailed here. But I see it is not about God’s people, but it is about God’s glory.

It never really is about me. ever. And how much pride fills my heart when I think it is.

God will use whatever is necessary to turn my heart to Him. I think about the cross and the One who endured the cross and the redemption I have through His blood.

And he has put a new heart and a new Spirit in me, and it is not about me, but it is always about the Glory of God.

The Son has come and the Holy Spirit dwells with in me and I don’t really understand it at all, but this I know, I want to know more of Him and to see His glory. To be so in awe of Him that I fall on my face.

And those days when the sun isn’t shinning so brightly and the day seems not so bright, and I wonder how I will continue, it is this that I need:

To continue in prayer ~ to commune with the one whose glory fills the temple and one day there will be no need of the sun for His glory will shine so brightly ~ and to watch in prayer with thanksgiving.

For when I see that it is all about His glory, and that I can even come before such a Holy God, how can I not give thanks.

‘Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above,
coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.’

When the skiers all arrive back home and stumble into the door and the sun is about to set and we all sit again around the table, we share our day and what we have learned and we laugh and love. And I give thanks.

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Cascading Grace ~ a Poem for a New Year

 

Snow is glistening ~ a beautiful sight,

It sparkles like diamonds in the light.

My children delight in winter’s magic,

No flakes on their pink tongues would be tragic.

Memories of kids unwrapping gifts, before

Red stockings and toys are strewn on the floor.

Turkey bones now boiling, bread dough's rising,

My kitchen’s in need of some revising.

But, I steal moments to think back in time,

Reminiscing of this past year, sublime.

On this eve of another year so new,

Look back, see our blessings are far from few.

The memories aren’t all good, don’t be naïve,

We’ll savour them all, on this New Year’s eve.

We have much to give thanks for, don’t you see?

Grace upon grace has been poured out for me!

In my journal, I survey things I wrote,

Many wee blessings were worthy to note.

Over 1000 gifts in twenty twelve,

Thanks to the Giver, in this I did delve.

Why, you may ask do I look back to see

This part of the journey laid out for me?

I recall the past events of this year;

They remind me how my God is so near.

This! This! It is the snowflake that glistens

On her lash, and their laughter. I listen.

It is the daily bread on which we feed,

The Bread of Heaven who knows all my need.

Skating on ice, walks on the lake, the heat

Of the wood stove, snow quincy, coffee sweet.

The warmth of my boy snuggled up to read,

Love notes, a meal for a sister in need.

Love of a lifetime, and chai tea with spice,

Notes from my son, my daughter’s help, so nice.

A bright day to celebrate, rings in ears,

Learning to surrender all of my fears.

His hands, His feet, the sun every morning,

New life, peace that passes understanding.

Making love a verb, the goodness of God,

Fingers dancing on the piano, awed.

Routines, relationships, redemption, rest,

Sharing my testimony of hope, blessed

With active children, beautiful sunsets,

Morning walks, whipped cream on berries, rosettes.

Serving together and a week at camp

Elders who care, tanned children, hair damp.

Beauty of songbirds, sand between my toes,

Precious time in the early, dark shadows.

Freedom in Christ, read alouds, quiet time,

The hammock, swings, fresh sheets off the clothes line,

Peas in the garden, little golden locks,

Crystal Lake, stars at midnight on the dock,

Potty training, picnics, a new baby,

Watching the moon rise, medical hist’ry

All those years ago when I was just three.

By His amazing grace, I’ve been set free.

Little ones counting, playing hide and seek,

Monday mornings, a start to a new week.

Strength from the Lord, hope in difficulty,

Messiness of life made into beauty.

Steadfast love, mercies every morning new.

Daughter 11, my little one 2.

My son, seven this year, on Halloween.

He likes his pumpkin pie with out whipped cream.

Watching caterpillars transform into

Beautiful butterflies, away they flew.

Phone calls from doctors, trips to the city,

Medical tests, and no heart surgery.

Sharing my story ~ the work He’s begun,

All the help I’ve received, I am undone.

I have been blessed in extravagant ways,

It speaks of His love. I give Him my praise.

Walking through autumn leaves, tea with a friend,

13 years together ~ honoured to spend

life this way, being held by my husband.

My weakness, His strength; in wonder I stand.

And now this year is drawing to a close,

We look to the cradle, the cross, He rose.

He who gave His own Son that we might live,

Will He not also all things graciously give.

I don’t know what twenty thirteen will bring,

To His cascading grace surely I cling.

With thanks I look past as trust it will build,

To live by faith in His promise fulfilled.

*************

Happy New Year from our family to Yours!

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