13 Hours of Rain

Brokenness surrounds me. Brokenness is also in me. I call myself a double agent, living in two worlds at the local college. I am a student. I am an instructor. Most of my time is dedicated to learning. Accounting. Business Communications. Computers. Economics. My neurons are firing at maximum capacity. I sincerely hope my brain will adapt to the intensity of information being thrown my way. However, the element I failed to anticipate as I interact with classmates and students (who are all younger than me, I'd like to add) is the brokenness intertwined in people's stories. Several students are divorced, single moms, struggling to parent and keep up with their homework. Many of the international students are burdened with low finances. They are also trying to rapidly adapt to a different method of higher education. Others are trying their best to understand the concepts while competing with others. People either assert their dominance by touting their marks or suppress their ...

For many North Americans, Jesus is far too familiar. His name evolved into a curse word. His claim to be fully divine (along with fully human) became reduced by popular society to an image of a "good man" teaching "good things". The seriousness of our sin -- or outright rebellion! -- was minimized. And God's love was elevated and esteemed more highly than God's justice. In doing so, we have rejected chapters upon chapters of the Bible, labeling them as irrelevant to a culture bent on a theology of Universalism. You're okay. I'm okay. We are all okay. It will all work out in the end, whether you believe in Jesus or not. He will let you into His Eternal Glory even though you decided that you wanted nothing do with Jesus on Earth. Sure. Come on in. Take the best seat in the house. I know what I write above is laced with sarcasm, and may even sound judgmental. However, I am currently wrestling with some truths I have recently gleaned through our small ...

"Please pray for me," your Nana asked mid-afternoon. "I have a terrible flu." "I will Daddy," I responded while saying a quick prayer in my head. It's the flu. It will pass. How serious could it be? Then I received word late evening. Your Nani was in panic. Your Nana's condition had gone critical. He was struggling to breathe. His lungs were filling up with fluid. He was literally drowning. Save me, O God; for the waters are come in unto my soul.  I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing: I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me. I am weary of my crying: my throat is dried: mine eyes fail while I wait for my God. (Psalm 69: 1 - 3) The ambulance was called. A faithful friend accompanied Nani to the emergency. Another friend stayed with your frightened Mausi as we live three hours way. An hour past. I sent out frantic e-mails for prayer. Good news arrived. Nana's condition was stabilizing. All seemed well? 24 hou...

I almost ditched creating to our annual Christmas letter last year, the one we e-mail to a contact list comprised of family and friends. Why? Partly because nothing “news worthy” occurred in 2015. And partly because I get easily discouraged by the lack of responses to all the work we put in to creating the document. Yet I persevered, more for you kids, so we can intentionally document your beautiful lives and the non-material gifts God lavished on us last year. Plus I’ve come to accept (through the wise counsel of trusted others) that the social media world has resulted in more non-responders than responders. Truthfully, people just don’t have time to provide feedback to everything they read out there in the virtual world! Even I find it difficult to keep in touch with everyone on a meaningful level (and I consider myself an above average corresponder). Once I got over myself and embraced creating our Christmas letter again, I took a personal risk in my section of the update. ...

We were challenged this Sunday to intentionally ask fellow believers if they confessed their need of Jesus today and if they read their Bible today. The speaker wasn't being rhetorical in his challenge, but rather desired for each one of us to ask one person, every day, this week, those hard -- but essential -- questions, until next Sunday. Part of me cringed at the thought, envisioning the whole awkwardness of the scenario, the quasi-judgmental nature of the query. What would a person think if I bluntly asked them, "So... did you read your Bible today? What did you read? Did you pray to Christ that you need Him to save you today?" Whoa... hold on a minute... My sister is a woman of refreshing candor. I know that eventually, in a face-to-face conversation, she will ask me how I am doing spiritually. Often, she'll phrase it as, "So, how is your heart today?" I know the aim of her sentimental question. She wants me to disclose the deep down "spiritual s...

Yesterday, I started to type out my family's genealogy, starting at my great-grandparents.  Within two minutes, I was frustrated -- frustrated over the lack of details including the absence of key names, dates and locations. Part of me wanted to give up and exclaim to you two children that, "Sorry, our genealogy begins with just your Nana and Nani. We'll build it from there!" Yet, my desire to continue prevailed, to somehow piece together the scanty details and display some sort of hodgepodge lineage. It seems like a frustratingly daunting task. I will try to complete it somehow. I once asked my parents why they have pathetic records in terms of their own family (I phrased it much more respectful than that). They explained that East-Indians usually don't keep such details, as it is considered intrusive and rude to ask your elders where you came from. Maybe I've become too "Western" but that seems like a ridiculous reason not to disclose your mother...

I've wanted to see the movie for quite some time. But the locally owned movie rental store (yes, we still have one) didn't carry it any longer. And we don't subscribe to Netflix. So when we were loaned "The Talented Mr. Ripley" (1999) by a friend, I jumped at the chance to view it. It was thankfully as expected. Fascinating. Intriguing. Disturbing. Some scenes required the "fast forward" button. Other times, you wished to pause the drama to discuss how you could love and hate the main character at the same time. The movie is a psychological thriller, where the main character, Tom Ripley, plots to be become a fake somebody rather than a real nobody. When the real life cast was asked to state the morale of the story, several commented on how we need to find happiness by loving ourselves instead trying to become someone that we are not. While I agree with this morale to a point, I believe there was an element of the movie that was much darker, much sini...

"What rink are we going to?" J. asks as we pack up our skating gear. "Where the Wildcats play," I respond, smiling on how my answer reminds me of one of my favourite children's book. You know the story, don't you? The one about a mischievous little boy who is sent to his room without his supper and how his room transforms into forest and sea. He romps and roars and dances with fearsome creatures. But love calls him back to his room to find his supper waiting for him. All is well and forgiven. In this stage of Motherhood, I am trying to navigate loving and gracious discipline. Some days I do much disciplining and forget the loving and gracious part. Other days, with God's wisdom, I get it right and really take the time to talk about the emotional hurts we inflict on each other. Then we work towards reconciliation. Such moments are beautiful. I grew up in a culture where the elders were always right (especially if the elder was male). It is not tha...

Whatever happened to saying "I'm sorry" and really meaning it? Now, I'm not talking about the Canadian style of apologizing, the one we are internationally know for, where we apologize for bumping into someone at the check-out line. Or the type of sorry that we say to empathize with another person's problem. I'm talking about a truly authentic sorry, the one that admits, "I screwed up. I was wrong. I need to change." A couple of weeks ago, you, my daughter, clipped down to yellow. Your teacher has a behaviour chart in her room, where every child's name is written on a clothes pin and clipped to a range of colors. Everyone starts at green at the beginning of the day, meaning each kid is "ready to learn". As the day progresses, a clip can be moved up or down, depending on what a child does. If a child does something exceptional, he can be clipped up to blue, purple or pink. If a child does something inappropriate, her clip moves down to...

So I risked, stepped out of my comfort zone, did something different. As a member of our church's World Missions Committee , I present several updates in a year. Usually I stick with a written script and present. And usually it all comes out appearing professional, clear and concise. Last Sunday I changed it up. I decided to practice speaking more than reading. Part of my presentation was promoting a prayer campaign for a youth short-term missions team to a nearby city. I planned to call them up and ask each of them a question through a random draw, just to illustrate being prepared, on the spot, to give an answer to why you believe what you believe. The night before, I prepared the draw slips and chose a container to draw from. I practiced my speech the morning of the presentation. Presentation time arrived. I stepped away from my notes and spoke. I fumbled through some details and sounded less eloquent than usually. But it was acceptable. I called up the missions team. I stru...

Passion is embracing everything God made you to be. It is being unabashed and unashamed. It is possessing the courage not to be a control freak. It is realizing that you don't have to be "proper" all the time. It is learning to live big and learning to let go. ( Be You, Bravely Video Series, MOPS) My favourite animated movie as of late is Frozen . Yes, I have been slightly sucked in by the Frozen vortex, I have to admit. My daughter, you requested Anna, the younger sister and princess from the movie, which you received as one of your Christmas gifts from us (I was pleased you choose the less popular Princess Anna over the very popular Queen Elsa -- it's so great to see you requesting gifts because you like it instead of what all your friends like). Anyway, why do I like Frozen ? First it is set in a country that experiences winter, which is comforting during -25 ° C days like today when the windchill makes it feel like -37 ° C (plus they skate in the movie, which ...

It is year in review time. And since my current stage of life doesn't lend itself to staying up until midnight to clink the champagne glasses, I feel the need to mark the moment through words instead. I did a quick perusal of my previous blog posts and read a few of my private journal entries over the year. A few thematic elements jumped out at me. I list them below in no particular order: Perseverance. There were a few incidences over the past couple of years that strongly tempted my husband and I to attend a new church. This is a hard thing to admit in this space, as I know some of my readers frequent our place of worship. So why admit it? Because, let's be honest, as Christians, we do struggle with some element of our church experience, whether it is the preaching, leadership, worship style, certain individuals or groups, theology, vision, etc. And there are times when you wonder why in the world you decided to attend your church in the first place, especially in the fac...

Do I believe in Christ’s redemptive work for me in the present? Do I believe that Christ has given me a new identity? Do I believe God can change me into who He wants me to be? Do I trust God to lead me in the best possible way? I wish I could exclaim a resounding “YES!” to all the above questions. Truthfully, the way I live my life floats somewhere between yes and no. Intellectually speaking, I do believe God can and will transform me into Christ’s image over time, through the conviction and empowering of the Holy Spirit. But often, my heart is somewhere else, trying to earn my own salvation. Once again, I am processing ideas proposed by Lane and Tripp in their book How People Change . In the book, the authors claim that Christians are often guilty of trying to fill their lives with good things that become ultimate things. In other words, we start pursuing ideas, practices or beliefs that take the place of God in our lives. While we acknowledge that God is our Savior and that He h...

We are caught on this side of heaven, where we await our complete transformation, when we cross the threshold to the other side. There we will spend eternity with the Three-in-One who sacrificed His Divine rights out of majestic love for humankind. For many, this future hope is enough. Fire insurance has been received, so to speak. The here and now is theirs to keep, without God, enslaved in sin. Yet, God came to set us free here and now . Your Daddy and I are taking in a Sunday School class where we are pondering the writings of Timothy S. Lane and Paul David Tripp through their co-authored booked How People Change . It speaks of the “Gospel Gap”, where Christians struggle with Christ’s redemption in their present day situation. It is easy to present the Gospel as forgiveness of our past sins and hope for eternity. But what about “the now”? How can the implications of Christ’s death and resurrection make a difference as we struggle with sin day-to-day? What does it mean that...

I engage in a bit of freelancing. Nothing Pulitzer Prize worthy. I just volunteer my writing services for a local amateur magazine that features the journeys of newcomers to Canada. And I believe I am the lucky one. About 3 – 4 times a year I interview a newcomer. I hear and pen my speaker’s story, full of sacrifice. The goal of relocation to Canada? To achieve a better life, a safer life, a life as a complete family instead of being separated over many miles to make ends meet. One thing I admire about these men and women is that they speak and write and read in multiple languages. Some ignorant Canadians find themselves complaining that they can’t fully understand the often accent laden words of the dark-skinned employee serving them on the other side of the counter. Yes, we should expect a certain level of English proficiency in our country’s employees. However, many immigrants know two, often three, languages. That is to be commended. While here, in prairie suburbia, the majori...

What does it mean to live a holy life, a life that is different from the worldly desires that wage war against our soul? How can we live so non-believers actually notice and ask us the reason for our hope in Christ? The community we live in is surrounded by Hutterite colonies. Their presence is noticed when they come into town. They dress differently. They talk differently. And they drive very large vans that can be filled with many, many women (and of course men). I don’t know a lot about Hutterites, but from what I have gathered, they live differently from the typical Evangelical Christian. The colony is guided by a strict code of practice enforced by a patriarch. Everyone’s life aligns with roles that perpetuate the colony’s future. But, if one deviates significantly from the faith, expectations and roles of the colony, and one refuses correction, that person is shunned. It seems to me that the idea of grace is missing. The balance between grace and works is a tough issue to w...

Dear Daughter and Son, One day, a crisis of faith may rock your world to the very depths of your foundation. As you teeter and tumble, grasping wildly for something  – anything!  – to rescue you from the plummet to the depths, you frantically scream the question, "GOD, are you REALLY there????" And silence reverberates around you in the chilly chasm of doubt. At this point in time, I've never been there, truly. My life has been fairly predictable. My relationships (the ones that matter, that is) are loyal. My loved ones surround me and very few close friends or relatives have been lost to sudden death, disease, or disaster. My health has been relatively "normal". My faith has not been tested with persecution or betrayal. Oh, I've had doubts. And I still do. But not the deep doubts that have the potential to shake the very core of my values. No so for your Daddy. A seventeen month encounter with the dark underbelly of the institutio...