Divine Healing

In going back to view some of the topics that I missed, I found the topic of divine healing very interesting. As many, I too have to confess being more than a little skeptical of services where divine healing is supposed to be occurring. That is until one Sunday evening, three short years ago.

On the Wednesday before, I was told by my Christian friend and doctor that there was a rather large mass on the shin bone of my left leg. This was discovered when I was seeking some relief from my arthritis, which was getting worse. She showed me the x-rays, and told me that she feared it was bone cancer. Now, I would be scheduled for a bone scan to find out if the cancer had permeated the bone. Needless to say, I was going through a wide range of emotion, at this point. My dear friend and doctor, did something that not many people have happen at a doctor's appointment, she held my hands and prayed for me.

The next day, the call with a date, just one week away, for the bone scan was received. My non-Christian husband's look of absolute fear did little to calm me. I stood with the phone still in my hand, closed my eyes and gave it all over to God's hands. "Whatever this is, Lord, however this all turns out, I count it all joy. I know You love me, and would not allow anything which is not for my good and Your glory." I did not ask for healing.

My pastor and friends were very upset with me. I refused to pray for healing. To my way of thinking, asking for healing was the same as saying that I was not accepting His will. He knew if He was going to heal me, or not. So, I figured, as long as I accepted His will, He would take care of it, one way or the other. Yes, I know, many have also thought that this was pretty twisted thinking. Still, all I wanted was to be obedient and bent to His will. I had a firm belief that everything would turn out just fine, and that He had a very specific purpose for it all. So, I just relaxed about it, and was full of joy in the firm knowledge that God was in control.

Sunday morning, there was an announcement that a faith healer was going to be at our church, that evening, on her way to Toronto. She was based in North Carolina. I had no intention of attending, but was asked by the pastor to join in the praise and worship portion of the evening. After we had the music portion, the lady started to speak. She did not boast of miraculous events through her hands, she merely told of feeling that God sometimes used her as a vessel for His healing power. I was very impressed with her humility.

When the call came for those who desired healing, I had no intention of stepping forward. My pastor, however, called me up to the front, and asked for someone to lay hands on me, and pray for me. "Not for healing, you understand, as that is not her desire, but for courage to accept God's will." I was grateful that he was respecting my stance on it all, even if he did not agree nor approve.

I lay on the floor, as other's were, and one of the worship team, Jenny<>

It was much like a relaxation therapy session I had shared years before. Jenny started with my toes, and then moved to my foot, then my ankle. Sitting with her hands on my shoulders, her fervent prayer was blanketing me, from the tips of those toes. As her words moved to my calves, I felt someone's warm hands take hold of my feet. Her prayer did not change or skip a beat. My feet felt the warmth of that touch, and as she prayed, it spread up my legs along with the subject area she mentioned, until even the top of my head felt a warm tingle.

As she finished, we both were still for a few moments. The person who has been holding my feet had left us, and Jenny helped me up. I was feeling rather weak. Being hyperglycemic, I just figured that my blood sugar was getting low due to the strenuous exercise of the praise and worship time. After thanking Jenny, I asked her who had been holding my feet, as I wanted to thank them, also. She looked a bit confused and told me that no one had been there, only she had been praying for me. I didn't say anything, but figured that she had been praying with her eyes closed, so didn't see whomever it was.

As the day came for my trip to Thunder Bay for the bone scan arrived, I still was not overly worried. I was more concerned about the trip with my husband, than the appointment. (He does not travel well) The tests took a bit of a while, but were not uncomfortable. At the end, I was told that it would be a week to ten days before the results would be sent to my doctor, and that she would notify me.

Then, the big wait started. After waiting for almost a month, I called my doctor to find out what was going on with the test results. She promised to look into it, as she had never had to wait so long for that kind of test. The next day, she called. What had taken so long was that the tests were sent to not one, but three specialists. Needless to say, I thought her next words would be that it was indeed bone cancer, and that I would have to loose my leg. Still, I was trusting that if that were the case, God was in control and I was glad to be put through this if it brought glory to Him.

Her next words floored me, and completely destroyed my calm resolve. "The mass that I showed you on the x-rays, was not evident on the bone scan. They couldn't find anything. They had the x-rays, which clearly showed the mass, but on the bone scan, nothing."

I was flabbergasted. She had to repeat what she was telling me in at least three different ways, before it sunk in. The mass was gone. We arranged for me to get another set of x-rays done, just to be on the safe side. "God rewarded your faith, Jude." Doctor Nancy said.

Well, the second set of x-ray was proof that the mass was indeed gone. To this day, I know, in my heart of hearts, that it was God or one of His angles that had been holding my feet, as Jenny prayed. I know, in my heart of hearts, that He took the mass away, because I not only paid lip service to my faith, but when I was faced with the trial of fire, I walked into the blaze willingly and joyfully, ready to do His will.

I would like to say that I never doubted things again, but being human, I still do wonder, want to take the easy path, and feel terribly inadequate to the tasks which He sets before me....at times. At other times, I am still that same woman, full of faith that my shortcomings will in no way prevent Him from using me, blessing me, and allowing me to be a part of His work in this hurting world.

So, there you have it. This story is the third life saving miracle which He has granted in my life. While I am joyful of His love, I am also broken by the wonderment of what I could possible do for Him that would make it all worth His time and effort.

I hope this sharing blesses you, and helps you to know, a little more firmly, that God is very much alive, and is still the God of miracles.

Love in Christ, Jude

All My Life’s A Circle by: Harry Chapin

All My Life's a Circle
Harry Chapin

(Starts with 2 stanza chorus):

All my life's a circle;
Sunrise and sundown;
Moon rolls thru the nighttime;
Till the daybreak comes around.

All my life's a circle;
But I can't tell you why;
Season's spinning round again;
The years keep rollin' by.

It seems like I've been here before;
I can't remember when;
But I have this funny feeling;
That we'll all be together again.
No straight lines make up my life;
And all my roads have bends;
There's no clear-cut beginnings;
And so far no dead-ends.

     Chorus:

I found you a thousand times;
I guess you done the same;
But then we lose each other;
It's like a children's game;

As I find you here again;
A thought runs through my mind;
Our love is like a circle;
Let's go 'round one more time.

This song depicts what I need to share so effectively.  At 54 years old, my life
should be settled into a comfortable routine.  I should know who I am, what my
strengths and weaknesses are, and what I do and do not possess.  The operative
word being, “should.” I find myself, once more, with one of my children living in
my home. This is challenging me in surprising ways. While I dearly love her, and
am so very grateful for this time together, it is causing me unexpected concerns.
She is no longer a child, and has lived in a situation where, for the most part,
she was in control of her personal life.  Now, she is here, still wanting to be in
control, and making me, at times, feel more like the one who is visiting than the
one whose home it is.  She often acts like her opinions, priorities, wants and needs
are of far more importance in this home, than mine are.  This is a terrible way to
feel in your own home, and with your own child.  While I know she does not intentionally
make me feel this way, still, at times she does.  My life continues to go around in
the circle of feeling insignificant and incompetent and having to struggle for my
sense of self-worth.

That being said, I also realize that this living arrangement is very hard on her. For the last four years she has been able to do things her own way—eat what and when she wants, arrange the room which was her domain any way she pleased, dispose of anything that she felt, and come and go in the schedule which she designed(her responsibilities respected.) Now, she is back with her mom trying to ‘mother’ her. At 26 years old, that has to drive her nuts.

She is coming to understand that while this will always be home, it is not really HER HOME, but her mother’s home. (OUCH!) I so remember when I had to face that harsh reality, and how much it hurt to realize that you indeed can not go backwards. Home is always the place of the heart, but as we grow into adulthood, we must find and make our own place. Having done that, it is not only impossible to go back to being the child who lives with our parents, but is also unfair to the parents, and uncomfortable to the now child-adult. Once we have moved out of the house and struck out on our own, the home-place can never be regained. Our room is no longer ours, but becomes a room in our parent’s house. (OUCH, AGAIN!!)

After the relative freedom of life in Toronto, my sweet Joy is now confined to the fairly regimented schedule of the farm. Also, she is separated from dear friends and associates that have been a big part of her life for those 4 years. The depth of loneliness and feeling of seclusion has to be very painful. Her free spirit is being terribly challenged by the restraints of it all. She no longer is in a home with several independent adults, but is now in a home where we must all be respectful of the schedules, needs, wants and feelings of each other on a whole different level. The priority system is very different, and for someone so young and full of life, must feel terribly restricting.

There is one good thing in our favor, as far as this challenge is concerned; we all love each other very much. We are all willing to try our best to enjoy our time together and not let the other stuff cause too many problems. There is nothing that can subtract from that love.

So, maybe, through this entire summer experience, all of us are going to learn and grow. One thing is for sure, we will learn how to compromise and be considerate and gracious with one another, or die trying. God willing, by the end of Heather’s stay, we will appreciate and respect one another in a much deeper and more mature way. That is my fervent prayer.

As a child, youth and young adult, it seemed like my life went forward with no direction--mostly misdirection, actually. Being an adventurer and rebel, there was very little which would be called common in the choices which I made, the people I associated with, nor the places I lived, worked and played. I was a free spirit. My favorite song, through much of this time, was "I Am A Rock", by Simon and Garfunkel. It described my aloneness and stubborn will to survive. "And a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries."

During this time, I was free to be as frightened as I needed to be. I was free to be as lonely as I designed things to make myself. I was free to indulge in as much self-righteous anger as I could drum up. After all, I was the middle child of seven children and had been raised in a verbally abusive environment. These were my excuses for running away at the ripe old age of fifteen; for living a life that bounced between the freedom of the hippie world and the structure and relative protection of the biker world. In the circles of which I travelled, I was respected and, for the most part, left alone. Still, even in those times, I could see how other's hurt behind the angery facades. Many times, I would approach someone, even after being warned not to, only to find out that they really were grateful that I had been able to see past their "act." None of us, in those environments, were living in the "real world." We all changed our costumes like chameleons, to suit the present surroundings. Like chameleon, we were in reality, seldom what we seemed to be.

Now, as I enter my fifties, I can see the patterns which were played out in my life. More than that, though, I can now see how God was present and active through all of those lost years. His grace and mercy is visible like a scarlett thread, the blood of Christ flowed over me and protected me, guided and directed my path, if not always my footsteps. He would gently lead me to a place where I could make a choice to turn things around for a better life, but still lost in my fear, loneliness and anger, I did not realize that those occasions where His reaching out the hand of grace and love. Only now, in retrospect, do I truly appreciate all that He had been so busy working on for my salvation.

Through those lost years, there were angels in the strangest places, who would appear in my life to hold up a mirror to me, so that I could see myself through painfully honest eyes. There were angels who would appear to lift me out of a potentially fatally, or in the least, fatally destructive situation. They would come into my life, work their miracles, then slip out, barely noticed.
One such person was then a vice-president of one of the most notorious biker gangs in our city. We had a brief casual relationship, but from those few weeks, we were both completely and forever changed.
He spoke to me of his growing faith. He felt God calling his name. A good lesson that God calls us right where we are and who we are. This fellow, because of his choices of companions, really had no one around him who would understand, never less care to listen. They would probably think he was nuts. At the same time, I felt God calling me to stop indulging in my emotional quagmire and make some radical changes in my life. We spent hours talking. Actually, we did little else. Neither of us was really interested in any physical intimacy, what we longed for was a much deeper need.

Today, this fellow is a minister, and I am a Soldier in The Salvation Army. I can't speak for him, but I know that God is definately using me. Even the past lost years. He continues to use me to reach others who are feeling just the same as I did all those years ago. My understanding of their situation is not from some book I was told to read, but from living the same paralysing fear, anger so intense that you loose the ability to breath and suicidal loneliness that they are going through. Because of this, I am so grateful for the things which are my past. They now are tools in my ministry tool box. I don't just empathize with those emotions, I have walked the mile in those very shoes. Now, I count it all joy.

It is my fervent prayer that God continues to use me in winding the scarlet thread of His grace, mercy and love in other people's lives.

Be Blessed, Jude

Lately, I have been thinking about relationships. Not person to person relationships, but the relationships which are required between ourselves and our service providers; between ourselves and the things we own and use; and the relationships between ourselves and the dreams, desires, and asperations which come together to create the people we are and the priorities that we have.

I know...deep subject. Still, I have never before realized that all of these things were relationships. Thinking this way has given me a new respect for the process of living out each day. For instance, the phone call that comes and seeks my help with a project. How I respond should reflect the honest relationship which I have with the person, with the organization, and with my own capabilities, rather than just a response which reflects a desire to "be nice."

No, I haven't been reading my paranormal psychology textbook, again. ha ha ha

Investigating and learning about these types of relationships can only make my writing better. Once I come to understand just how these different types effect a person's life, I can write more rounded characters, with a wider range of attributes-good and bad.

I was thinking about why people continue to do things long after they have stopped having any joy from them, or even are capable of doing them well. Relationships, of any kind, are hard to walk away from. Why an elderly character would continue to garden long after arthritis has made it an extremely painful occupation. She has a relationship with the garden, with the work, and with the entire process of planing, tending then reaping. Even painful relationships are hard to walk away from. Understanding that, makes the woman a bit more human. While on the outside, the world sees her crabby nature, on the inside we can see her clinging to what is common for her. Clinging, as it were, to a relationship which has long since needed to be terminated. Anger is just fear turned inside out.

Okay, that is my rant today. Be blessed, and remember...relationships with people take time to build, but can be destroyed in an instant. Treat them with care, love and respect.
Jude

One small step. That is all God requires of us; one small step. I was thinking, today, about the prodigal son. (Luke 15:11-22) In this story, a man had 2 sons. One son was anxious for his life to start, and demanded his inheritance and headed out on his own. He squandered this inheritance away, then, when he had sunk pretty low, he decided to go back home, to his father and beg for his forgiveness.

The part of the story comes in the second half of verse 20. "While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him."

Being a mother, I know that feeling of seeing my child returning home after a long absence. I know that feeling which is half longing and half disbelief. Can it be true? Are they really here? I imagine that this father felt the same way. At first, he was just seeing a silhouette of a man. The shape of him looked somehow familiar.

As the man drew nearer, the father recognized him as the son he thought was lost to him. What joy filled his heart. Then, the shape pauses for a brief moment, unsure of what kind of reception he was going to receive. The father, noticing the hesitation has a moment of panic. "What if he changes his mind and turns around?"

So, he does what any parent who loves unconditionally would do. He runs and snatches his son up in his arms and plants kisses full of love and acceptance on him.

When I am with my children, now all grown up, I long for them to be small again, so I can take them in my arms without restraint and pour my love for them out freely. When they were that young, alas, like so many other mothers, I did not love them as unconditionally, as constantly, as unrestrainedly as I should have. Life was just too busy, too painful, to confusing at that time. Not an excuse, just the only reason I have. It is a regret that I will have to carry with me, all the rest of my life.

Being a different person now, and as good a mother as I can, does little to appease my regret. Still, I know that even in that time, I did the best that I was capable of. Not the best that I could have done, just the best I was capable of.

Thankfully, my children know more about unconditional love that I did at that time. They have forgiven my inadequacies and continue to love me unconditionally. The gratefulness I feel due to their grace is the only thing that appeases my regret.

My relationship with my Father God has been the same. I have not loved Him as fully, as constantly, as unconditionally, as unrestrainedly as I should have. Just like my children, God only requires me to make one small step towards Him. Then, like the father of that prodigal son, He will run to me, take me in His arms and shower His love upon me. All I need to do is to take that one tentative step.

When you have so much in your life that you feel guilty about, that one step can take a lot of courage. There are times when that one small step is backing away, sometimes, I pause and even turn from His welcoming love. Still, He waits, unmoving, waiting for me to take that step towards Him, again.

What glory! What joy! When He is so loving, so gracious to forgive me my turning from Him, how can I possibly not learn to be forgiving? Even to the point where I can forgive myself. So, today, I am not only taking that one small step, even though I know that it is all that is required--I am running straight into His arms and soaking in His welcoming love.

How about you? Are you brave enough to take that one small step? He is waiting for you with arms wide open and a heart full of love.

In my creative writing work, what I am finding most enjoyable is the research. To write a believable story, the facts have to be historically, geographically, and forensically correct. To that end, I have been researching murder. No, I am not planning to murder anyone outside of the realm of fiction, but I want my characters to have the right personality traits and use methods, which will stand the test of logic. While I do not think there is anything logical about taking another’s life, I want those who have read, investigated and work in those occupations that come in contact with these deviations to read my work and feel that it is believable and follows the logistics of the crime. To that end, I must investigate murders, murderers, murder methods, and murder investigations.

What I am finding is that my files are starting to take shape and become organized to the point where compiling them in a book is starting to make sense. It would be a murder guide for writers, as it were. Therefore, soon, I will be working to compile this bevy of information into some semblance of logical order. Once that is done, I will be formatting it and delving into the world of editors, agents, and publishers, to see if I can drum up some interest. This is a new step for me, and one that I have, up to now, avoided out of sheer terror. Writing, when kept as a solitary occupation, leaves one free of criticism--but does nothing to further one in their writing careers.

So, with this new project in mind, I am feeling revived in my fervor to get moving ahead. In the meanwhile, I will keep researching and compiling. Someone once told me that real life is what happens while we are waiting for our life to start. I think it is the same with my writing. My career is what will be happening, while I am waiting for my idea of a career to begin.

When praying for those you love, do you believe that God is listening, caring and answering your prayers? When He answers, do you recognize that fact--or like me, do you pray, and wait for some great change to occur right before your unbelieving eyes? That is exactly the way I was. This weekend, however, God opened my eyes, and I realized the error of my ways.
For over 15 years, I have been praying for a softening of my husband's heart. In many ways, he was a cold, inflexable and hate-filled person. While there was much good in him, these attributes caused me a great deal of hurt. So, as any good Christian wife would do, I prayed for my unsaved husband. I really don't know what I expected--maybe a lightening bolt would come and strike him and he would be changed. Every time there was a big crisis in our life, I expected him to see the error of his ways and to come through it all a changed man. To my disappointment, he came through and remained just the same.
A few years ago, my son came and helped on the farm for the summer. I saw a gratefulness in my husband that I had never seen before, but did not recognize it for what it was. When we dropped my son off at the bus depot at the end of the summer, my husband, much to my embarrassment, broke into tears and sobbing. I was appauled. Instead of realizing that God has brought about the softening that I had been praying for, I was the one with the hard heart. Seeing my husband in his emotional state made me angry and discusted.
This weekend, I realized for the first time, that God had answered my prayer for Brian's heart. It was a big "splinter in your neighbour's eye" moment for me. I was so ashamed. Instead of trusting and recognizing God's work in my husband's heart, I saw it as one more thing that bothered me. What I realized is that I was so concerned about the state of my husband's heart, that I forgot to be concerned about the state of my heart.
Since this realization, I have begun to look at my husband in a whole new light. I have also started to pray for my own heart to be softened. God answers prayer. He just doesn't answer them our way, or in our time. Sometimes, the answer is subtle, and sometimes, the answer is to change us, more than those we are praying for. He has been teaching me about happiness and contentment, lately. Maybe, through these lessons, He had my attention long enough to teach me about how He answers prayer, and about judgement. I pray that He never stops teaching me these lessons. While they hurt, I am a far better person for the learning of them.
Be blessed, and be assured, God does care when you speak to Him, and He always answers.

I have often wondered about those people who are content to live in one place for the duration of their lives. I have often wished that I could be one of those people. But, I am not built that way. The desire to experience new things; go new places; meet new people does not allow me to remain content and stationary for very long. Unfortunately, I am married to a man who is about as stationary as they come. Even a short trip to town throws him off his axis. Still, for the most part, we balance each other out.
He keeps me grounded and gives me a place to come home to. I help him to realize and experience a bit of the world outside the parameters of our farm. It is generally a good relationship. For the last two years, however, we have struggled on our own. I lived in a city, which was much like where I grew up, and he remained on the farm. This experience taught us that we both need a bit of what the other brought into the relationship to give our lives just the right balance and flavor.
For me, all of the special moments and experiences lost something because he was not there to share them with me. For him, the farm felt more like a place, than a home without the special touches that I added. It was obvious to both of us that neither of us could be completely happy nor content without the others presence.
So, after two years of trying it on our own, we reunited as man and wife. Being in the same house, on the same farm, with the same furniture/dishes/bedding, etc. may sound like we have gone backwards, but actually, quite the contrary.
We are both much wiser and both realize just how much we love and desire to share the rest of our lives with one another. We had lost that in the day to day struggles of life. So, being back together we find that we are both much changed for the experience of parting. We no longer take each other for granted. Every day together is a blessing which we both appreciate.
Now, God willing, we will have many years together to grow and experience and share together. For myself, just the fact that we were able to reunite shows me that both of us are pretty special people.
So, my friends, where-ever you are, who-ever you are with, know that if you step back...Perhaps not as far as we did...You will, once again, remember just what it was that made you pick that particular person to spend your life with. You will realize just how much they complete and compliment you. I pray that you are all as blessed in your relationships as Brian and I are in ours.
Through the love of Christ, Jude

Never ask God to teach you patience. This advice was given to me on many seperate occasions, but, being rather impatient, I kept praying for God to teach it to me. DUH Talk about learning lessons the hard way.

One good thing has come out of this constantly re-taught lesson. The more I am forced to sit and be still and wait upon the Lord, the more I am learning to trust Him. This was not what I thought I needed to work on. Of course, God sees me better than I see myself, and He knows just what areas of my being need the work.

I remember counselling one gal that when she asked for healing, God was not necessarily going to heal what she thought He would. He knew the intricities of her being, and knew far better than she did, what needed healing. Well, talk about eating my own words/practice what you preach/a lesson in verbal gravity! My very wise words have come back to me. Hopefully, I will listen and learn from them, just as the gal I counselled did.

Which leads me to wonder why, if I can come up with such wise words for others, do I tend to be a total idiot when it comes to counselling myself? While I am running here and there, all willy-nilly with no rhymn or reason, where are my calming thoughts, and God purposed words? MAN!

So, here I sit, waiting. Trying, ever so hard, to be patient and wait for God's timing. Will I be moving, once again? Will a contract open up for me right here? Will I be able to find housing if I am to move? How will I get all of my stuff packed, and who will help me, if I am to move? Once I get where I am going, who is going to help me unload from the truck? How will I afford the cost of moving? And, one million and a half other "while I am being patient" questions that keep me awake until the wee hours of the night.

Okay, so I don't have this patience thing down pat, yet. And, I must admit, that I need to work a bit harder on the trust issues, as well. Still, I am trying, and I am willing to change. That stands in my favor, I figure. Just like the alcoholic who can't really be helped until he/she recognizes that he/she has a problem. Well, I recognize that I have a problem, and am patiently waiting for God to fix it. ha ha ha

For now, I am finding that while I wait, I can at least go through my home and reduce the clutter. This should help with the volume I will have to deal with if I move, as well as making my home less stressful, and a whole lot neater.

So, until I get my marching orders, (or my staying put orders) here I am working on patience. How patient do you feel today?

Be blessed, my dear ones. Know that God loves you, just the way you are. In fact, He loves you far too much to leave you that way! ROFL

Love in Christ, Jude

Trying to survive. It has been two years since I left the farm. Still, each day starts out with wondering what my husband is doing, how he is feeling and if he is okay. "Will that ever pass," I ask myself as I start the work of surviving through the day. For more than two years, I have been in survival mode. Ever since I was told that I did not have bone cancer, and felt so very disappointed, as at that time, I just wanted it all to be over. The shock of those feelings propelled me into action. Something had to change, or I would be destroyed by the depression that was so consuming me. Still, I did not want to leave, as I dearly love my husband. Life has a way of taking control, however, and I became very ill and the choice of whether or not to stay was taken out of my hands.

That was two years ago, and I am, just now, starting to slip out of the survival mode and starting to relax a bit. It is hard to be a peace when you are running. While my life is not ideal, my finances are in the toilet, and I will even admit to being lonely, once in a while. Basically, I started to care whether I lived or died agian, and for that I am truly grateful. No more going through the motions of being happy. No more pretending to be someone I am not, just to please someone else. Not saying that being just who I am is especially pleasing, but at least it is honest.

Once more, I find myself at a bit of a cross roads. My job, which I am enjoying, is the type that depends on bidding for various contracts. The contracts which I am presently working on are soon going to be coming to an end, and there is nothing local in sight. That leaves me with a big concern, as my savings are now completely gone. Still, I try to rest in the fact that God has never let me down. When I have been in this frightening position before, He has always provided something. So, I keep watching the contract postings, and am once again, sending out my resume looking for work. The part that tempts me to despair is that now, I have absolutely nothing to fall back on, while I am searching.

I am learning how to trust God through the hardest of times, in a way that I never before had to. I am learning to wait on His timing and how to pay attention and stay in His will. Believe me, my friends, all of that is a lot easier when the hard things are taken care of. And, not very easy for a person who is basically impulsive. With the need for supply to pay my rent, bills and yes, maybe even a bit of food, it is a lot harder to be patient and remain calm.

Never again will I have the pomposity to assume that someone is weak because they don't completely trust God when things get tough. He has brought me to a position of humility and need that dispells all of my vanity. For this, I praise Him. Now, maybe I can become the woman who I dearly desire to be. The woman who has been so broken that there is nothing left of the old me, and only Jesus shines through.

Through this time, I also have found that even in my brokenness, God has used me to minister to others. It always amazes me that when I feel like I have, or am, nothing, God still finds something good there that He can use. For this, I am also very grateful. These small glimpses of Christ in me are what keeps me waking up with joy and the courage to face each day.

Be blessed, my dear ones. Never take any supply for granted. Don't be foolish with the things or people that God has placed in your life. Look upon everything as a gift from God and He will honour your rejoicing with further supply.
Love in Christ, Jude

After many minutes of hard labor, my blog-page has been fixed!
My beautiful daughter was wonderful and gracious enough to figure-out what I had done wrong and to rectify these wrongs.
She's not only gorgeous, she's intelligent.
And I love her.
I'm so glad that I have her in my life-where would I be without her? Heather, you're my hero.

What Now, God?
In the last three years, I have been faced with cancer, suffered life-threatening lung damage, had my marriage disintegrate, moved to a strange city, and been forced to learn how to live alone for the first time in my 53 years. What a blessing!No, I am not nuts...while I realize that all of this is enough to give me good reason to be so. My father always said that I was the kind of person who had to learn lessons the hard way. Well, God has had some lessons to teach me, and believe me, I have had to learn them the hard way.Now, with more maturity and more of an honest sense of who I am and what I am capable of, God has me at a bit of a cross-roads, once again. My contracts at work are all concluded by the second week in August, and I must scan the job postings, within our organization, for what God will supply, next. With this process, has come the opportunity to apply for a position which would look after my worldly needs, but require me to uproot and move, once again, to a place where I know no one, and nothing of the city. Do you think God is still working to break my dependance on others for my happiness, for my self-esteme and self-worth?While I don't know what God has planned next, I do know what He has taught me in the last couple of years. Now, I understand why we are instructed to boast about nothing, save the healing sacrifice of Christ. All of those talents and skills, in which I placed my value, have been stripped away. They have only been given back as He has willed them to be; to His purpose, and for His purpose.I now understand why He instructs us to place our value in Him alone. All that I thought gave me my value has been lost, with nothing but an empty shell remaining. He has chosen the bits of things to start filling this vessel with. While I must admit to still having some difficulty in the wisdom area, I am far more honest, with myself and with others, and through this new-found honesty, has come a new budding sense of wisdom, which is God-based and God-purposed.I have grown up past a lifetime of struggling to be what everyone in my life expected or desired me to be. Now, I am in the adventure of finding out who I really am, what I really want, what I am really capable of, and more excitingly, what His purpose is for my life. All of this, only by His grace, in His strength and for His glory.The more I am less, the less I am more. That leaves only room for Him--as it should be. With that, I am more blessed, every day, with fresh opportunity to serve and honour Him. And, wonder of wonders, I have learned the humility it takes to ask for help; learned the courage to turn my back on things that do not include nor honour Him; and, learned that I can trust again. First learning to completely trust Him, then learning to trust myself, and through those steps, learning to trust others.Oh, I won't lie and tell you that it has all been an easy road to travel. Delving into the unknown areas of our personality and past lives is always front with obsticles. There are going to be some nasty bumps and bruises. Thankfully, I serve the Great Physician and He is more than capable of healing me through the process.I remember when I broke a bone in my arm. The doctor explained that, when healed, it would be stronger than the one in the other arm, that had never been broken. This is the kind of healing that my Abba Father is doing in my life. It is painful, I have had to ask for help, but when the healing process is all completed, I will be stronger than I ever could have been, had He not broken me.So, my dear ones, I have no clue what God is up to now. All I know, for certain, is that He loves me, as He loves you. Whatever His plan is, I am trusting that He will supply what I need to meet the next change and challenge in my life.Be blessed, and remember:"Not everyone can do great things; but everyone can do small things in great ways." Mother Teresa

As a member of the American Christian Fiction Writer's group, I am privileged to listen and learn the business side of being published, from many who have already crossed that threshold. There was a post the other day, about how Christian writing should always have proper grammar, even when writing dialogue. While it is true, no matter whether we are Christian writers, or secular, our grammar should be proper, I had to wonder about stretching that to our writing dialogue. People, for the most part, do not speak with proper grammar. We use slang, catch phrases, and partial words to get across what we want to communicate. My feeling is that writing dialogue applying all the proper grammar rules, would make our work seem uppity and unrealistic. In a way, we would be bastardizing the conversation, much in the same way in which we would be trying to fix the bastardization of English grammar. Mother always said that two wrongs never made a right. My concern for correcting normal speech comes from working in journalism. I took great care to make sure that people were being quoted directly. I learned how changing one word in a quote could change the entire context with which it was said. A person who did not understand that retyped my writing into the paper’s computer, and it was often changed. Not only was my sentence structure changed, my grammar destroyed, but also, direct quotes were edited. It got to the point where I had to send a copy of what I had submitted to the people I was writing the story about, so they could see that I had respected them, and written a proper piece of journalism. This lack of professionalism and respect for responsible journalism finally caused me to quit the paper. This decision hurt a great deal, but there are times, we just have to stand up for what we believe to be right. The straw that broke the proverbial camel's back came when a teacher in our high school found out about his parents committing suicide, by seeing their address posted in the paper. The police had not yet been able to contact the entire family. One of the paper's writers wrote that he could not name names, but the address was... Being appalled, that was the last week I wrote for that paper. Up to that point, my readers respected my writing, constantly told me how they enjoyed my articles, and column. Those same readers were very understanding when I quit over the suicide story. It is because of their encouragement that I continue to write. It is because of their encouragement that I went back to school, at the ripe old age of 50, and worked to earn my Honours Certificate in English Creative Writing. As you can see, I still haven't gotten over being paid by the inch as a journalist. Love in Christ, Jude

My Easter was spent in Toronto, with folk that some would call "the least of these". After spending four days in their company, I have struggled with what my perception of "the least of these" actually is. For the most part, my family are people who are hardworking and live a fairly comfortable live. They all have dependable cars; some of them have two. They all have beautiful homes with all of the latest conveniences. From a worldly perspective, I would say that they really live the good life. My companions, over the Easter weekend, however, have caused me to rethink just how fortunate these, my siblings, really are. As a virtual stranger, I was met with love and generosity by Toronto's poorest citizens. These people scraped by with next to nothing, but were still more than willing to share what they had. The preciuos little in the way of luxury was shared with everyone. What an example of God's provision and what we are supposed to do with it. My siblings, on the other hand, covet what they have and what each other has. They spend a good deal of their energy and money trying to make sure that none of them has something that the other doesn't. Nothing is shared, and definately not shared with anyone outside their immediate families or circle of intimate friends. Even some in the family are not allowed inside this privilaged circle. At The Salvation Army 614 Corps, I see what family is all about. It is taught to me by people who are unrelated, except as part of God's family. These people, love on each other, share with each other and support one another in ways that I have never before experienced. Their love and support does not depend on what they can get from each other, but it is based on the simple fact that God loves them, and commanded them to love one another. The big difference between them and my siblings is that they know God on a personal level, and for the most part, my siblings never even think about God, nor do all of them claim to even believe in God. It is hard to learn what true love is all about, when you deny the One who created it. So, to me, it is my siblings, and those like them, who are "the least of these" and not those financially strapped people that I spent my Easter with. I can think of no greater destitution, than the poorness of soul and spirit which is their lot. So, my friends, I praise God for the lessons He taught me through Easter. Mostly, I thank Him for the love and grace that was extended to me by those who most of society look down on. I am eternally grateful for the faith and service of my daughter, who leads me to those places of instruction and increase. Through her, I am learning to see the world through more Godly eyes. I am thankful, even for my own poverty, as because of it, I am able to understand what real love, giving and grace really are. May God richly bless you all with things that really matter...and, for your enjoyment, a few that don't. Love in Christ, Jude

Today is one of those days when my plans changed on the whim of another. So, in an attempt to continue to be productive, I started to do the miriad of little tasks that I kept setting aside for "when I get around to it." Since this time to myself was a gift, I decided to honour it by shortening my 'to-do' list. So, I started out my day by creating gift scrolls for my daughter-in-laws baby shower. What fun to play in the baby graphic sites online and put together a nice creation that reflected our love and excitement at the bending new arrival. Then, the nightmare started! My printer, which has been tempermental, of late, decided it was going to make the job as difficult as possible. It took turns giving me different frustuations from munching over 10 pieces of paper at one time, to printing all but a small patch on the page. I tested several other documents, and they printed just fine. But, all it would give me was 1 good copy out of every 5 or 6. Then, it would also decide there had been a scanner error (I wasn't using the scanner) and just shut down and refuse to print. The whole job took me over 3 hours to do what should have taken only about 30 minutes! I had to baby the machine and feed it one page at a time, and ask it only to print half a page at a time, then turn the paper to do the other half. (2 scrolls on each page) Anyone who knows me well, knows that I have little patience for equipment which I have paid good money for that does not work properly. So, knowing that, you can imagine how I was tempted to just pitch the thing out the window and go and purchase another one. But, as I worked, slow and steady, to get the job done, my frustuation turned to humour and I won the victory over the predicament. Feeling brave, I moved on to job #2, business cards for a gal at my Corps. These have a lovely soft pink background of roses, and a cheerful green writing. Now, to find just the right verse to place on them. So, from fighting with the printer to delving into my Bible and various concordances in my quest for a verse that would witness, while reflecting the gals personality. Next thing I realized, it was almost 3 pm, and I had spent over an hour in the Word! No matter why I open that Book, lately, God has something to give me from it. What an awesome God! So, here I am, at the end of these tasks and a few others in between. Sitting and praising my God for a very productive and pleasant day. My sweet friend, Heather Oliver, is doing well after her surgery, I have been blessed with a few phone calls, emails and encouragement from my last bog...THANKS! One friend told me I was being too hard on myself. She has known me for almost 20 years. But, when push comes to shove, to completely open myself up, I must be willing to open even those places where my hurt, fear, shame and regret are housed. My heart and prayers are with you all, today, my dear ones. May you be blessed as I have been with the reminder that we are only required to do one thing at a time. Just get up and start, keep a steady pace, and focus on God's promise for your reward at the end of the day. Love in Christ, jude

I chose this as my first subject because it is something that I have to keep reminding myself of, every single day. You see, I am one of those types that thinks that my situation is a bit more unique than most. So, to my scripture reading, there is often a, "yes but" added to the text. Admitting that I read the Word, a great deal of the time, looking for what I want to get and not for what God wants to give me, is the first step to letting go and letting God in my daily reading. Letting go, and letting anyone is not something that comes natural to me. Mostly, I like to control situations in an attempt to protect myself from as much pain as possible. What has happened, over and over again, is that I make a big mess of things, and God has to swoop in, like a father eagle, and catch me before I plummet to the ground in a broken heap. I am learning, slow but sure, that to really be free, and to really protect myself from needless pain, I have to learn to trust. First, I have to learn to trust God 100%. Then, as I lean on him, live in His Word. Let the living Word teach, guide, change and grow me up, I can learn to trust myself and others. So, what I am working on, with a vengence, is believing every word that comes from the mouth of God. Being one of those who accepts only what I find logical...stories like Noah and the flood, Jonah and the big fish(there is a debate about that fish in my salvos group, right now) need to be either accepted in faith or discarded, making the rest of the Book loose its legitimacy. "In a humble and gentle spirit, receive and welcome the Word which implanted and rooted in your hearts contains the power to save souls." James 1:21 (Amp) It is time for me to stop walking on the fence, and to make some very tough growing choices. I have been a believer for several years, but always picked and chose what I would believe, and what I wanted to do more research on. I was walking the fence. Through it all, that elusive happiness seemed never to be mine. A dear man, who was very special to me, passed away, this week. All of my family went to pay their respects and join together as a family to support one another....all of my family, except for me. I was not welcome, because of choices I had made in the past in an attempt to avoid pain and suffering. What a lesson, God taught me, as I sat alone, thinking...with an honesty that I would rather have avoided, and realized that I was paying for years of not completely believing His Word, and trying to control my own life. Well, I controlled it, alright...not only has there been more pain and suffering than was necessary, but I have an extended family which does not exactly welcome me with open arms. I have quit on them. I have cast them off, in an attempt to protect myself. My dear friends, beware of those you willingly cast off. Some day, you may find yourself, just like me, hurting and sitting alone. So, that is my big lesson for this week. God has taught me lots of smaller ones, too numerous to mention, but it is all a growing process. When I was young, and asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always answered, "happy." My life has been a quest for that elusive state of being. Only now, after causing myself and others so very much hurt, do I realize that true happiness has been with me, the whole time. It has been right there, for me to embrace. "Truly happy people are those who carefully study God's perfect law that makes people free, and they continue to study it. They do not forget what they heard, but they obey what God's teaching says. Those who do this will be made happy." James 1:25 (NCV) As Rick Warren says in his book, The Purpose Driven Life, "The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable." I pray that you are all being far wiser than I have been in reading, studying and believing His Word, every day! Love in Christ, Jude By His grace; In His strength; and for His glory!