Don't Worry

I generally don’t consider myself to be a worrier. However, one sunny morning this summer, as I listened to my thoughts, I realized that I was stewing.  There were some things in my favor that morning, if I had to choose a time to worry. For one, I was walking, so I had time to think.  I was walking, and the movement brought clarity of thought as it often does.   I was walking, alone, and free from distractions, so it was the perfect opportunity to give voice to my anxious thoughts. “Cast all your cares on Me, because I care for you”, were the words voiced quietly back to my heart. Immediately I knew that God was with me, and that He was hearing me.  Remembering that invitation was definitely another thing working in my favor that worry filled sunny morning. So I pictured myself picking up each care, and casting it at Jesus. Not just gently tossing the problems His way, but hurling them, with all the force I could muster.  After all, I did not want those worries. That felt good.

There’s a better ending than that, though. What happened next will take longer to write down than the fraction of a second in which it happened. As I rounded the corner onto our driveway, the stand of wild Lupines was there to greet me. “See Linda?”  Those two words from the Lord brought a smile to my face, and a feeling of calm over my anxious self, because I knew exactly what He meant.  He was reminding me that the carefree beautiful flowers are telling me that I need not be anxious about anything. His attention to detail in placing beautiful flowers in the wild grasses reminds me that He is paying even more attention to me. The flowers and grasses are so fleeting, but my life is eternal, and He is heavily invested in it.  He cares. He knew the Lupines would speak to me when he placed them there a few summers ago. That’s the best thing I have going for me - His loving and powerful attention.

Quarantine Companions

I mentioned Carol and Murray in my last blog. They completed their two weeks in our basement, and moved on to another, this one in Steinbach, where they are close to family.  Our time with them was fun, and they were good company as we chatted across the basement from our area over into theirs. We had the chance to hear a lot about their time in the jungles of Papua New Guinea.  Murray said that their jungle history gave him interesting perspectives that we wouldn’t necessarily relate to. For example, he was momentarily startled when the motion of our ceiling fan caught the corner of his eye. Apparently, in the jungle, motion on the ceiling spells RAT.

We were happy to spell out their quarantine as a success, and celebrated with with a walk together, but apart, along the Seine River. On this walk, we observed another perspective gained from jungle living that we just didn’t relate to. I have passed by this fallen tree dozens of times, and so has Kevin, but it has never spelled out anything to us. Had we spent years hiking in the jungle, I dare say it would. Apparently, fallen trees can be a short cut, a bridge, a short respite from the muddy trail, and even just fun.

In their eyes, this fallen tree spelled CLIMB.

And so we did, and it was fun!.

Goodbye Old Jack

Looking over pictures from our times at the lake, I remembered I had actually started a story a while back, so I decided to finish it. There’s time, after all!

It was raining heavily at Longbow this particular evening, and Mallory, Carson, baby Bronwyn and I, were all sitting in the living room watching the weather.  Kevin, conspicuous in his absence, was outside inspecting how the drainage system was handling the downpour.  Suddenly he burst into the cottage shouting that we should get into the basement. At the same time things were starting to fly off the kitchen window sill. In a panic I closed the window before I headed down, which wasn’t smart, but then it was over, almost as soon as it started. There was an eerie silence as we came up the basement stairs, wondering what we would find. Kevin shared with us later that when he heard a train in the yard behind him, he realized what was happening, and had just enough time to reach the house to take shelter and warn us.

It wasn’t quiet for long, as the neighbors quickly came to help us check out the damages.  The route the tornado had taken through our property was obvious. The first impact was the felling of our clothesline tree. From there it flew up onto our dining room deck, blowing through the open kitchen window and passing on to pick up our deck table and deposit it into the yard below, umbrella and all. After that it spun over to the dock, taking out our beloved Jack Pine, and on from there to the boat port where it left tell tale signs of having played with the roof, and wreaking havoc with our small boat. Impressive work for a small tornado in just an instant of time. More impressive was what it didn’t do, but that’s for later.

In its better days…

In the aftermath of the storm it was clear to me that the Lord had directed its path.  We do ask God to protect our property, and He said yes to me as he spared the much-loved hanging glass birdbath in my garden, and arbor that my dad made for me sitting just beyond.  He said a resounding no to us in not protecting our precious Jack Pine. Yes, the Jack Pine that had so beautifully shaded our dock, now lay in a tangled heap on that dock. How we had loved that tree, spending hours in its shade, watching the lake, the kids swimming, nesting hummingbirds, sunsets, and even dragonflies.  I had often prayed about that old tree, so precariously positioned, and gnarled with age.  I’d feared its days were numbered, and it turns out I was right.  You know, I’m happy that I said all of those prayers.  Had I not, I would now be kicking myself for not praying to God to protect that old pine.  Instead, all that remains now is to thank God for whatever His reason was for taking it down. Do I know the reason?  I do not, but I know it’s a good one.

I did ask the Lord, years ago to show Himself to me in the course of my ordinary days.  A small tornado at the lake is not really a major thing, but it has made a difference to me to know that Jesus is in the picture.  He spoke to me that day, with yes and no, and I would much rather hear a no than not hear Him at all.  As I think back now, I realize that the scope of God’s yes extended far beyond my birdbath and arbor.  That tornado avoided every single one of our stately Red Pines as it twirled its way to Old Jack.  In accepting the “no”, there has been room to see the bigger “yes”.

Dragonflies 2

There’s more to the Dragonfly story of my last post. Dragonfly memories came flooding back when I entered a charming family owned jewelry shop in Corona, Italy. We had finished our first cooking class of the tour that morning, and the afternoon was spent exploring this very picturesque town. One particular shop, Del Brenna, had been recommended by our hosts, and I was interested to check it out, willing to take home a souvenir if I found something that resonated with me. My eyes were immediately drawn to the dragonfly pendants, and there was resonance!  Once again, the dragonfly turned out to be a blessing!

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During our last days in Arizona this spring, our thoughts were heavily revolving around our return home. To do so, we would be coming into close quarters with a lot of people at airports, and in the aircraft itself.  I thought of the verse from Deuteronomy that says our God rides through the heavens to help us.  "Please do so Lord", I prayed, and He did.  Later as I was thanking Him, He quietly spoke to my heart, "Linda, I know what you were thinking, and I couldn't resist!"

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Just recently I employed the the verse from Deuteronomy once again, this time using our friends’ names:  “There is none like God, O Carol and Murray, who rides through the heavens to your help, through the skies in His majesty.”  He sent a US Embassy charter to return these Canadians to their homeland from Papua New Guinea. We have more help here for Murray, in a high risk category, if he  were to need it in these Covid times. They are now “quarantining” in our basement!  We feel blessed to have them.

Dragonflies

One afternoon, just this past summer, I noticed a fleet of dragon flies in the yard, so I quickly pulled up a deck chair to watch them. What a delight to see them swooping about here and there, in their joyful haphazard flight patterns.  The journey of these tiny helicopters, buzzing low over our grass and flowers, was swift and sure as each one took it’s own direction.  Never once, though, observing their frenzied flight, did I worry that there would be a collision.  Instead, my thoughts took me back to earlier in the day, when I worried that the mosquitoes were getting bad, and would keep me out of my garden.  Now I knew that my rescuers had arrived.

I have other dragonfly memories.  One sunny summer day, as I was sitting on the dock, one of these beautiful winged insects flitted persistently about me, landing on my big toe, taking off, and then returning to rest there again.  It was a simple delight, and I understood it to be a personal gift from the Lord, and so His presence felt near.  Another memory comes, and again I am sitting on the dock, this time in the evening with my parents, when suddenly our peace was disrupted by a swarm of mosquitoes humming over our heads. Just as suddenly our helpers were there! Almost as if out of nowhere, a fleet of tiny ‘copters zoomed in on the scene.  We watched the defenceless mosquitoes being swiftly and purposefully taken out one by one. Up and down zigzagged these tiny rescue machines on paths that were anything but random.  Each one had a target, and not one mosquito was missed. The mission was accomplished!  What a performance they gave us!  My mom often comments that she will never see a better show.

I have to agree.  Yet there is a better show if I look with my spiritual eyes. If I put my name into Deuteronomy 33:26, it’s an even better picture.  “There is none like God, O Linda, who rides through the heavens to your help, through the skies in His majesty.”  He sent me dragonflies to remind me of Him.  He is personal, and He is for me.  “How precious to me are Your thoughts, O God!  How vast is the sum of them!  Psalm 139:17

This is a “Water to Wine” moment in an otherwise ordinary day.