Monday Musings on the Creator in Me

Creative Comfort

For me, this summer has been a time of deeper discovery about what it means to have the Creator in me. I guess you could say that Truth which has long been resident in my head is taking hold in my heart. I like that. It's a really hard process, but I'm grateful for it. 


Lately I've been dwelling a lot (mentally, emotionally, and spiritually) on the Holy Spirit aspect of God -- and in the wee hours of this morning, as I stroked the fevered head of my DD9 and she sweetly thanked me for taking such good care of her, it occurred to me that my actions were evidence of the Creator in me. Verses like these came to mind:


And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever (John 14:16).


But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you (John 14:26).


At 3:00 a.m., I knew that it was God the Comforter working in and through me --"teaching me all things" -- to make me a loving, comforting mama because I really wanted my bed. But it also got me thinking about ways that I make a conscious effort to be a comforter to my children, and wrestle with my flesh to let the Comforter Spirit work through me because I know that's what I'm called to do. I'll be honest and say that it doesn't always come naturally to me to be a comforter. But, inspired by real people like Sally Clarkson and Ann Voskamp, I have come to appreciate my need to be deliberate in my demonstrations of comfort -- to be creative in my endeavours to make my family feel better about life when they're "down" in some way. 

So, when someone is sick, we have a tradition of trying to make sickness sweeter with the delivery of meals in bed on a specially decorated tray:

When emotions are big and blustery, we have a basket of books in a quiet corner -- a place to meet Peace, often in the comfort of a cuddle. 

Perhaps it's not a good thing -- at least for our waistlines -- but comfort often involves food in our home. When someone has had a bad day, smiles surface at the sight of a special snack. I know better than to offer a cookie as a quick fix for a scraped knee -- but sometimes a specially presented little treat helps to sweeten a sour day. 

Occasionally,  bad-day-blues are blown away with a good read-aloud book -- especially by candlelight on the front porch on a cool summer evening.

But outside of the standard hugs and kisses -- and of course prayers -- offered in teary times, I have to say I'm hard-pressed to think of other creative comfort ideas. I suspect the Creator Comforter might be willing to change that if I have the wherewithal to ask next time -- especially if I'm not feeling particularly sympathetic with the one craving comfort. I'll have to make a conscious effort to do that. 


In the meantime, do you have any creative ideas for providing comfort to those you love? I would love for you to share your ideas and experiences in the comments below. Let's inspire each other, shall we? 

When You Do This, Remember Me

If you'be read my blog for any length of time, you may have noticed that symbols are important to me. Easter, Advent, our Blessing Meal -- all are steeped in traditional symbols that hold spiritual significance in our family. 


This morning at church, our pastor prefaced our communion time with the observation that when Jesus used the analogy of His body being bread and His blood wine, and told His disciples to remember Him every time they partook of those elements, He was asking them to think about His sacrifice daily. Bread and wine were staples of the disciples' diet -- things they would consume probably once per day (at least). This meant Jesus was wanting His followers to reflect on Him -- His life, death, and resurrection -- every time they ate. 


Do we do that? Sure, we say grace around here -- but we don't really reflect daily on God's broken body and shed blood and all that means for us today. 


So this afternoon as I prepared dinner, I decided to make up a little "symbol set" that we can easily place on the table each day -- just a goblet and a small loaf of bread (retrieved from our Easter basket) -- with some little glass grapes for colour :) (Note: DH sewed the placemat years ago -- before children. I stumbled upon it while looking for a doily or something to put under the symbols.)

Do you have any symbols or devices that you use to trigger thoughts about Christ's sacrifice?

The Wonders of Photo Editing

I haven't had a chance to do much with any of the photos from our trip to El Salvador, but my DH has been creating masterpieces with some of them using Picnik. The plain photos are lovely in themselves, but he has highlighted some features and added text that reinforces some of the Truths that have come out of our experiences . . .

Vida x vida means "a life for a life." Christ gave His life for us, and we give ours for Him.

I especially like how he minimized my wrinkles ;)

Pretty cool, eh? If you've never tried editing any of your pictures, I encourage you to try because it's lots of fun! (DH printed these photos as posters and laminated them -- for his office, our learning lab, and DD14's bedroom. They are an awesome reminder of our special trip and are really helping to keep the memories alive.) You can download a free version of Picassa 3, which enables you to use Picnik as well. 


Let me know if you try it!

Monday Musings on the Creator in Me

A Lesson Learned from the Selfishness of Selflessness


When my daughter and I sent out letters of request for sponsorship of our missions trip to El Salvador, one person declined a tax receipt from our church because he believed the trip was more for personal growth and development than service to the Salvadorians. At first I was stunned. How could he think that?


But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that there was truth in what he said. Granted, we were giving of personal time and resources, leaving loved ones, comfort, and security to spend nine days making fools of ourselves for the sake of the gospel -- which meant we were sacrificing our selves for the eternal benefit of those who chose to respond to our programs. 

But in the grand scheme of things, it seemed like we, the missionaries, were significant beneficiaries. 


In giving love to the sweet children, we were blessed with expanded hearts that yearn to reach more people with the gospel of Christ.

A little girl who shares my name:)

In praying for the children's needs, we received the blessing of witnessing miracles that multiplied our faith a thousandfold. And we learned how to pray -- really cry out to God -- for extended periods of time without being distracted. 

We had the opportunity to deepen existing relationships -- and start new friendships that are bound to bless beyond measure as we wend our way through life as a church family, and as a global family of God.

And we were able to experience many aspects of a wonderful country and culture -- some heart-wrenching, some exhilarating.

How many people do you see engaging in the country's "recycling program" in this photo?

There is no doubt in my mind that God intended for my daughter and me to go to El Salvador on this missions trip and that God did, indeed, use us to bless some of the Salvadorians (especially our Compassion Canada child, Jeanci, and her family). 


But if I'm absolutely honest, I have to admit that my motives were not all selfless. I wanted something from this trip. No, it wasn't about "Christian tourism" -- going on a missions trip as a way to "see the world." But I wanted my daughter to gain a new perspective on life, and I wanted us both to have a serious spiritual awakening. I wanted God to do something in and for us. And frankly, I think that was what drove me to leave my comfort zone -- not any noble desire to serve Salvadorians. 


For a while I felt guilty about that. It seemed wrong, somehow, to be going to another country to serve others with an ulterior motive. When I looked around at all the poverty, I got mad at myself for being so self-centred, as well as confused that God had "blessed" me so abundantly and the Salvadorians seemingly less so -- and how could I be so ungrateful, wanting more than what God had already given me?


But then God used one of those new relationships -- my precious new sisterhood with a lady on our team named Bev -- to show me that it was not about "us" serving "them" because of their great need. She pointed out that when God looks at Salvadorians, He doesn't see poverty -- He sees brokenness -- lives that need Jesus.  What does He see when He looks at North Americans? Wealth and abundance? Nope -- brokenness -- lives that need Jesus. It's not about the "more abundantly blessed" serving the "less blessed" at all. It's about sharing the Love of Christ and letting HIM do the healing of all our hearts. 


It makes sense, then, that we would be blessed by our experience. The Love of Jesus flows in more than one direction. And it makes sense that I would want something from the experience. After all, I am no less broken or in need of Jesus than any person we danced before, sang to, prayed over, or loved on in El Salvador. 


So, I think I can be selfish in my brokenness and still be selfless in my service. 


What do you think?

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