Prospering Where Planted

We live on a country road which winds up a gentle hill. On the downhill side of the road the trees are especially healthy and prolific. During summer the canopy throws the glade into deep, cooling shadow. The closer the trees grow to the stream at the bottom of our property, the taller they grow. Many rise 50 or 60 feet into the sky.

Having studied forestry as an undergrad, I love trees, especially the white pine, hemlock, cedar, maple, oak, and beech that grow on our acre and a half. I would not deny that there is beauty everywhere on earth: in the arctic, across the great plains, in the pampas of the Argentine, among the shifting dunes of the Sahara, and in the craggy granite heights of great mountains. But trees are special. Not only are they the lungs of the planet but they also clothe the skeleton of earth with grace and beauty.

For there to be healthy trees, there must be abundant water. Fortunately, we live near a perennial spring that feeds our little stream throughout the year.

The other day, I was reading Psalm one when I realized that our property graphically illustrates this passage. The person who delights in God’s law “is like a tree planted by streams of water” (Psalm 1:3). The blessed man or woman “does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night” (Psalm 1:1,2).

How does the blessed person avoid hurtful associations? Like the towering trees on our property, the person who delights in God’s Word, drinks in the life-giving sustenance of divine wisdom day and night. This Bible-saturated soul bears the fruit of grace and holiness through imbibing God’s principles and exhortations and truths. Among the vast array of benefits is discernment about how to avoid the kind of friendships that destroy while embracing those that edify.

Times of severe trial may come, but the faith of the blessed person does not wither, focused as it is on a stream of meditation that connects the believer to the very heart of God. By contrast, the unforgiven who scorn the Bible find their lives, like the leaves of fall, withering and blowing away with the winds of adversity. They will not stand during the final judgment.

The habit of daily Bible reading and devotional prayer has often rescued me from discouragement or making foolish decisions. Join me then, in renewing your delight in the Bible and embracing the practice of daily meditation.

An Ocean of Comfort

On a recent vacation to the seaside, the vastness of the ocean enthralled us once again. From where we stood on the sandy shore of South Carolina, the briny deep continued a thousand miles or more to the coasts of Europe and Africa. The sea seems to cast a spell on people. No wonder so many pay a premium for a bit of ocean front land on which to build a home or cottage.

Those who study such things tell us that, in volume, the ocean contains 322,300,000 cubic miles of water. That’s cubic miles! It encompasses 71% of the surface of the earth, some 140 million square miles.

Mind-boggling. And thus we were a bit perplexed by a man we saw walking along the beach listening to music on an Ipod and texting on his cell phone at the same time. Was he so used to the rise and fall of the relentless tides that it had become commonplace, or was he just another victim of the techno-slavery of our culture?

The magnitude of the ocean, makes a comment by Isaiah all the more astounding. “Who [the Lord God] has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand” (Is. 40:1 NKJV). Just think of it, God holds all that water in the palm of his hand. How immeasurable is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!

The chapter containing this comparison, and others like it, begins with the words, “Comfort, yes comfort My people” (Is. 40:1 NKJV)! The words come to me with power at a time of puzzlement and some discouragement. They bring comfort because they tell me that God has the capacity to understand, the wisdom to know what is best, and the ability to solve whatever problem I have—or enable me to endure whatever difficulty I face. He is infinitely bigger than all my perplexities.

What problem or pain do you face today? Consider the ocean and lift up your eyes to the omnipotent God who is touched by the feeling of our infirmities.

Goals or Resolutions–Facing the New Year

All that is left of the Christmas turkey is the memory of our family dinner and a potential pot of turkey soup. We’re taking down Christmas decorations and storing them for next year. A new calendar decorates the wall. It’s time to look seriously at the New Year ahead. Resolutions anyone?

How does it go? I resolve to eat less, to exercise more, to be kinder, more generous, and to pray more. Resolutions are easy to make but easier to forget. And yet we need to do something. Without laying out a path for the New Year, we may end up in bypass meadow or the slough of despondency!

For this reason, at New Years, I make up a list of goals—not really too different from resolutions. I write the current year’s list on a three by five card and keep the new one, along with those from other years in the front pocket of my diary, cum appointment book. By keeping the cards from previous years, I can look back and see if I’ve made progress or regressed in any area over the last few years. As I look back to cards from other years, I find encouragement in seeing where objectives have been met. To keep me on my toes, I’ll need to refer back to this year’s card often during the year ahead.

Goals give me a sense of direction, defining for me areas where I want to improve. So I set goals in the areas of, for example, reading, Bible study, prayer, exercise, writing, networking, hospitality, ministry, etc.

Since my goals, although fairly general, are somewhat measurable, I can tell if I’m making progress. For example, my goal is to read one non-fiction book for every two or three books of fiction I read. Since I love entertaining stories, that’s a hard one, but I do keep a careful record of the books I read. Another objective is to walk at least 30 minutes a day, four days a week. Last year it was 40 minutes a day, five days out of seven. Since arthritis has been attacking my knees, I’ve had to cut back on that. Another aim is to see my new suspense novel, Riptide, published and three more of my books turned into ebooks. Still another goal is to turn our zillions of slides into digital images by the end of the year.

Some aims are ill-defined early in the year, but become clarified as the year advances. At this point, I’m not quite sure how many blogs I should write, nor how general or narrow their focus should be. Neither do I know quite what to do with the whole area of networking, since Facebook and Twitter can be addictive and wasteful of time. (Every writing pundit tells me I need to be active here!) I’m inclined to confine my presence on FB and Tw to early morning and late afternoon. I’ll have to see how that works and refine my goal as the year advances.

Of course, as a Christian, my main goal is to grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. How do I measure that? But that’s for another blog.

Christmas At Our House –Rich Symbolism

Christmas is here again; a season full of joyful singing, rich symbolism and happy get-togethers. A Christmas wreath hangs on our door, symbolic of the nativity wreaths used for generations in our churches, wreaths in which four candles stood, one candle for each of the four Sundays leading up to Christmas.

Christmas cards decorate our living room reminding us of the many lives that have touched ours: relatives, neighbours, and friends. We look forward every year to receiving your cards and letters!

A poinsettia sits on the coffee table. Brought from Mexico in 1828, these plants embodied for them the star of Bethlehem. Others feel that its green leaves represent the everlasting life Christ came to give, the red leaves the blood he shed, and the yellow flowers in the centre, the wounds he endured.

Presents have been purchased but not all wrapped, symbolic of the gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh brought by the wise men to place at Jesus’ feet.

Candles are ready to light, speaking of the light that Jesus brought to the world. Our mouths fall open when we try to imagine a world untouched by his light and his life.

Carols play in the background. Joy to the World. Hark the Herald Angels Sing. Silent Night. O Come All Ye Faithful.

In pride of place sits our manger scene, symbolic of everything good Mary Helen and I enjoy. There is Mary who bore the Christ child, Joseph who refused to divorce her, shepherds beckoned to the scene by an angel choir and wise men led from the east by a star.

With our main celebration taking place at our daughter’s house, we chose this year not to erect a Christmas tree. Too much work—too little symbolism. For decoration, we do have a small ceramic one. Not that we’re opposed to the tradition which is said to originate in Germany in the 16th century where trees both inside and out were decorated with roses, apples, and coloured paper. It is believed that Martin Luther was the first to light a Christmas tree with candles.

Nor do we have a Santa Claus. I loved to hear Twas the Night Before Christmas read to me when I was a child. Now I love to re-read the Christmas story in Matthew and Luke. And yet, we are told, there is a legitimate connection with Saint Nicolas. “The original Santa Claus, St. Nicholas, was born in Turkey in the 4th century. He was very pious from an early age, devoting his life to Christianity. He became widely known for his generosity for the poor. But the Romans held him in contempt. He was imprisoned and tortured. But when Constantine became emperor of Rome, he allowed Nicholas to go free. Constantine became a Christian and convened the Council of Nicaea in 325. Nicholas was a delegate to the council. He is especially noted for his love of children and for his generosity.”

What a wonderful time of the year: visits with friends, delicious meals, gatherings with family, candle-light services and rich symbolism. The symbols speak to me of that day over 56 years ago when Jesus Christ came into my heart bringing forgiveness, cleansing and a new and exciting motivation for living.

May your Christmas vibrate with the echoes of Bethlehem and shine with the light from the Christmas star!

The Mighty St. Lawrence River

A couple of years ago we stopped for a picnic at one of the Seaway parks on the St. Lawrence River in Ontario. The St. Lawrence inspires awe, draining as it does almost a quarter of the North American continent. It’s hard to comprehend that the current rippling by us that day contained rain that fell on distant Manitoba or Minnesota; water that had thundered over Niagara’s cataract.

Scripture speaks of even greater rivers, the rivers of God. The river that went out of Eden to water the garden.(Gen 2:10) The river of pleasures that God gives his children to drink, a river that abundantly satisfies their thirst.(Psalm 36:8) The river that makes glad the city of God.(Psalm 46:4) The pure river that flows from the throne of God and the Lamb along the banks of which grow trees whose leaves are for the healing for the nations.(Rev. 22:1) God’s rivers are inexhaustible, pure, enlivening, enriching—and very mysterious.

The Great Lakes and the St. Lawrence Seaway System comprise one of the world’s greatest transportation networks. Between the Atlantic Ocean and Duluth, Minnesota, ships traverse a distance of 3700 kilometres. The system serves a region that is home to more than 90 million people, where a third of the continent’s gross national product is produced. The Great Lakes’ watershed accounts for forty per cent of US manufacturing and two-thirds of Canada’s industrial output.

God’s river system is far mightier. Through the instrumentality of the Holy Spirit, his river dispenses grace and mercy to billions world-wide. Under a different image, but one that teaches the same lesson, we read that, “He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.(Matt. 5:45)

Love, God’s love, makes the world go round. The Lover on High moves men and women to embrace each other in relationships of committed love. The heavenly Father blesses couples with children. And Jesus, who loves children, encourages them to laugh and play. The Almighty causes flowers to bloom and tomatoes to ripen. He plants in hearts an appreciation for beauty and a longing for peace. He inspires acts of compassion and courage.

Like the mighty St. Lawrence, the world-wide flow of God’s love and mercy doesn’t depend on us. We don’t deserve it. We can’t earn it. We can’t stop its flow. It just is—a universal fact of life on this planet. We can reject God’s love. We can distort it. We can corrupt it. We can degrade it. We can deny it. But we can’t stop it from flowing around us—on and on and on—like the great rivers of earth.

Wherever it flows, God’s love exposes anti-love and promises deliverance from its pernicious power. In the gospel of Jesus Christ, divine love’s most astounding expression, the waters of God’s grace wash away our sins. Let those waters wash over us!  [Adapted from Down A Country Road. See http://www.countrywindow.ca ]

Falling Leaves – Failing Health

Leaves have been slowly falling for the last week or so. They litter our lawn and beckon me to limber up the rake. Living in the country, I’m wont to let the wind do the raking for me, but this year I may gather some to enrich our compost heaps. That is, if I can get some relief from this arthritic knee which has me hobbling around the house.

With the falling leaves came falling temperatures. Although warm days continued into November, inevitably frost shriveled the flowers and killed the pepper plants. The garden cries out for me to abandon my seat at the computer and tidy up for the approaching winter. But I don’t quite feel like it.

Ah, yes, that nasty word, winter. Half the population laments the approach of shorter days, snowstorms, windshields encased in frost, and sky-high heating bills. The other half, well perhaps less than half, eagerly waxes their skiis, sharpens their skates, gets out their winter coats and plans a winter getaway to snow country.

Whatever one’s proclivity, it is pointless to complain about winter’s arrival. The passing of the seasons is unavoidable. We’d best face the facts with a cheerful countenance.

There is a season for everything. And, unlike the return of spring, we will not discover a fountain of youth for our aging bodies. No matter how many anti-winkle creams or pills we pop or operations we endure, age will gradually—or quickly—take its toll. Forgive me gentle reader for broaching a subject that is almost taboo. But it seems to me that like winter, we need to accept the inevitable—and prepare for it. Okay, I admit it, I haven’t yet given in to Mary Helen’s urging that we purchase a cemetery plot.

It will do me no good to nostalgically long for earlier years when I could run and jump and climb without hindrance. When the roof needs shingling again, I don’t think I’ll do it myself. No, it’s time to stare reality in the face—or in the mirror. My hair is thinning, my heart is weakening, and my legs are giving out. Last weekend I had to stop the repairs I was doing on my woodland bridge and take a breather.

None of this means that we are doomed to gloom. As the years accumulate, we can focus more on becoming godly, and less on feats of athletic skill. We can allow our circumstances to generate more empathy and compassion for others. We can read good books and write letters and send emails and use the phone to encourage people. We can talk to God more, intercede more, and study more about our future hope. Heaven is ahead. Christ will return. The kingdom will come. There will be no more pain and no more tears. What’s not to like about that!  [For books by this author see: http://www.countrywindow.ca]

DNA and the Beanstalk

While recently cleaning up the vegetable patch for winter, I dismantled the lattice work I’d installed for the climbing beans. That was not easy. The beans stalks grew round and round the poles and each other, then onto anything nearby including the tomatoes. The plants had kept us in fresh green beans almost until first frost. They grew so dramatically high that if I had been able to install a two or three story lattice work they would have climbed to the top. As it was, I had to use a step ladder to pick the topmost.

And all this growth from a few little bean seeds. How did those seeds know to climb when my bush beans didn’t? How did they know they weren’t soy beans? How could they climb so high? My climbing beans reminded me of the magic beans described in the story of Jack and the beanstalk. I can see why the imagination of the writer went wild.

The information packed into the DNA of those seeds is incredible. How does God do these kind of things? A bean stalk ten or twenty feet long. An apple tree from an apple seed. And what about a giant sequoia? Moving from plants we could ask the same questions about a whale or a butterfly. As Werner Gitt points out in his book, In the beginning was information, there is no known natural law or process or phenomenon through which matter can give rise to information. And without encoded information there can be no life.

I’ve been writing about a bean seed, but what about the information stored in human DNA? We are told that every kind of life and every organ of every living thing uses specific proteins. In our bodies there are about 50,000 different proteins. Wow! The result of billions of years of chemical accidents? A product of evolution? Sorry, I’m just not that credulous. I’d rather go with David and praise our Creator God because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. (Psalm 139:14) Do we know that? Do we know Him? [To purchase copies of, Down a Country Road or Through a Country Window see: http://www.countrywindow.ca]

 

Thanks for Migrant Workers!

Many of the pickers in an apple orchard I recently visited were migrant workers from the Caribbean. A local strawberry grower routinely brings in help from Mexico. The same happens in market gardens, vineyards, and farms throughout Canada and the US. Our harvests depend on the help from beyond our borders.

Agricultural work tends to be hard, tedious, and even dangerous. Laborers work long hours for relatively modest pay. Fortunately for the rest of us, migrant workers pitch in to do work many of us are unwilling to attempt. As a result, our lifestyles are enriched. So I was gratified this year to see that, in recognition of their contribution to our local community, our church held a special dinner honoring migrant workers.

But I was surprised to read that Alabama has enacted very strict anti-migrant legislation. As a result, Alabama “farmers are staring at crops that no native-born American wants to pick. Most of their Hispanic workers have fled…’You can’t get legal workers,’ a blueberry farmer named Connie Horner told the Associated Press.”

In spite of high unemployment, there always seems to be a shortage of farm workers. The same can be said about workers in the Kingdom of God. Particularly now, and especially in North America, volunteers for full-time missionary service are few. Surely, every believer who peruses his or her Bible should feel the heart-beat of Jesus. “When Jesus saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, ‘The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field” (Matt. 9:36,37).

Fortunately, indigenous missionaries from the young churches of Africa, Asia and South America are responding the need. But they can’t do it all themselves. They need help. They need western brothers and sisters who will give themselves to love and be spent for the kingdom. Oh, it will be hard and sometimes dangerous work, but the rewards are unbelievable. So let’s redouble our prayers for full-time missionary volunteers. [For books by the writer see http://www.countrywindow.ca]

 

Autumn Splendor

Have you ever felt like you’re walking right into a Cezanne painting—full of brilliance and color, or is it a Van Gogh? Every fall when we wander through the woodlands, or drive along our country roads, we have to pinch ourselves to make sure we’re not dreaming. Hillsides are painted overnight with splashes of red and yellow and purple in a thousand subtle shades leaving us staring in open-mouthed astonishment.

Trembling aspen crown a far hill with a diadem of gold. The light breeze orchestrates their shimmer into a delicate minuet. Patches of green pine, bronze oak and scarlet maple clothe the hill below the aspen like the robe in a royal pageant. Fingers of hemlock and orderly rows of cedar stitch the robe where it meets the spring-fed valley. Each tree has its own signature—a combination of tint and texture so unique that we can pick out the composition of the forest from miles away.

In this Emerson was right, “Such is the constitution of all things . . . that the primary forms, as the sky, the mountain, the tree, the animal, give us a delight in and for themselves; a pleasure arising from outline, color, motion, and grouping.”

And what is the source of that pleasure? We lean against an old fence and feel the pure pleasure linking us together in silent homage to the divine Artist whose skill no mere human can duplicate.

It’s a time of year when I don’t dare have much film for my camera. Each day seems special, each vista unique, each tree a Byzantine mosaic. Along with sunsets and moonlight, Mary Helen has urged me to curtail my love affair with autumn lest overflowing scrapbooks of prints deplete our bank account and stuff our cupboards. But like rainbows and sunsets, moonbeams and snow scenes words fail us when we try to describe the subtlety and drama of autumn. Words certainly failed those bards and scribes who attributed all this to “Jack Frost” or “Mother Nature”.

Not much better are those who confidently demythologize creation with their “scientific explanation” for autumn’s palette. They remind us that each leaf is a tiny food factory in which green chlorophyll acts as a catalyst helping to promote the chemical reactions necessary to transform carbon dioxide and water under sunlight into glucose while releasing oxygen as a byproduct. All plants contain pigments that are hidden by the intense green of spring and summer growth. As the days shorten and the nights grow cooler green chlorophyll gradually disappears.

With the chlorophyll gone, the leaf can no longer make food. Sunlight reacts on leftover glucose to produce red colors. The leaf color depends on the degree of sunlight, the amount of glucose left, and the variety of other pigments that are most plentiful in the leaf. Xanthophyll is yellow. Carotene shows itself as orange-red. Anthocyanin creates a red and purple effect.

Understanding some of the reasons why the hillsides wear their colors doesn’t lessen the wonder. After all, men have been polluting the earth with their manufacturing for millennia while God’s leaf factories have been quietly producing food and enriching the earth from the very beginning. And his factories don’t pollute, stink, ruin the water table, sting the eyes, de-stabilize the soil, or fill the atmosphere with carbon dioxide. Leaves produce oxygen not carbon dioxide. Some researchers estimate that one tree purifies as much as 40 tons of pollutants in its lifetime!

What a Creator! Not only a Manufacturer without peer and the Perfect Engineering Environmentalist but an Artist whose skill leaves us searching in vain for words to describe the scenes he paints with such prodigal strokes of his brush.

“Have you seen God in His splendors,
heard the text that nature renders?”

Sometimes it is enough just to gaze around in awestruck worship. A northern Autumn is one of those times.

The Mysterious Ocean and Human Conceit

A few weeks ago while visiting the coast of Maine, we watched two scuba divers get ready for a dive. They carefully checked each piece of equipment and every seam in their rubber suits before easing themselves beneath the waves. What wonders would they encounter, unknown to landlubbers like ourselves? From where we stood the ocean extends mysterious and deep to the farthest horizon—an unknown universe beneath the waves.

From time immemorial human curiosity has inspired expeditions to plunge beneath the ocean surface, to search the impenetrable jungle, to climb the highest peak, to explore space. And yet with each discovery, the universe’s enigma’s multiply. What marvels await us in the deepest troughs of the ocean? What spectacles may be encountered on distant planets? Each new discovery serves but to unveil a myriad more imponderables.

Why then do we demand absolute knowledge of God, the creator of all that exists? Why do we expect to understand everything about how God operates? Such conceit! Job, through his mysterious sufferings and undeserved trials learned to become more humble. God spoke to Job. “Who is this that darkens my counsel with words without knowledge?…Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?…Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea?…Can you bind the beautiful Pleiades? …Can you bring forth the constellations in their season?” (Job 38:2,4,16,31,32).

Job replied, “Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know…therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:3,6).

Wise men and women throughout the ages have acknowledged humbly the inscrutable wisdom of God. Moses wrote, “The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may follow all the words of this law” (Deut. 29:29). What we need to know and do is clearly laid out for us in the Word of God. There’s no mystery there.

But because of the very nature of God, our understanding will always be limited. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my way, declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8,9).

Let’s celebrate the mystery that is our God! “The Lord is the great God…In his hands are the depths of the earth…The sea is his, for he made it…Come let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the Lord our Maker” (Psalm 95:3-6).©