It seems right to be writing my 100th post about something that means so much to me.
The people whom I drove away from just a few hours ago, a Camp that I know so well, and an experience that I wouldn't replace for anything.
I remember in Grade 6, when I first discovered what Bible Quizzing really was, and the way that it created new bonds between me and others, within my own team and at every tournament.
It was this year that was kind of my first year of "normal" life. The last time I had been on Canadian (okay, North American) soil had been four years before, for one year of home-assignment during my Grade 2 year.
I was awkward, I was socially inept, I felt lonely, I was only here for a year and didn't want to form bonds that would rip away a part of my heart when I left... and I found an answer to my longing to belong in Quizzing.
It didn't really matter how well I did, although doing well did give me a sense of accomplishment, competitive as I am. It was more the fact that no matter what, those people in my Quizzing group, and the people I interacted with at tournaments cared about me for me.
It was as if I saw the body of Christ come alive in a true way through the way that I felt safe and comforted when surrounded by others who gave such importance to memorizing and prioritizing God's Word in their lives.
And after that year, I left.
I returned to the jungles of Africa, was homeschooled, did lots of crazy amazing things that I would never trade for more years in Bible Quizzing... but two years later, things changed.
Most of you (addressing the quizzers who will read this post) don't really know my past. But the synopsis goes something like this:
Two years after we had returned to the missions field, my sister started exhibiting strange symptoms that we couldn't account for. At first, they were only minor, irritating things that we thought were just stubborn habits that could be fixed. But as time progressed, things got steadily and steadily worse. Eventually, it got the the point where something had to be done about it. We quickly packed things for a short journey, headed to one of the big cities and consulted some doctors. Their reply? Fly back to Canada quickly!
So we did. And once again, I was thrown into the rollercoaster of we-need-to-figure-this-thing-out-but-normal-life-goes-on. We arrived back in time for my Grade 9 year, and I was once again in a position of uncertainty, loneliness, and trying to figure out what normal life looked like, not only for a Canadian, but also for my family, while trying to visit doctors, get a diagnosis, and get my sister healed.
And it was during this time, that I joined Quizzing again. Immediately, that sense of belonging, of comfort, of everything being alright, of having security when my life was anything but, all came back again.
It's been a splendid five years. Five years of wonderful friendships, of growing in my relationship with Him and understanding what it means to hide His word in my heart, of feeling more confident in speaking publicly, of how to win and lose gracefully, of being surrounded by those who know what the terms bookie and clicky-seat mean.
But most of all, it's been about surrounded by family. And my sister is healed now. In fact, she's been quizzing for the last two years, and this year, on my team. Many of you know her personally, and many more could probably recognize her face.
Nothing ever goes like we plan it out. Especially when He's at the helm, following His plans which are far wiser, better, all-knowing, and good for us than anything we could concoct.
When I came back here four years ago because of a medical emergency, I didn't understand.
I still don't understand fully. But I want all of you to know (even those of you who aren't quizzers) that by knowing you, I have understood in part what He was doing.
If I left overseas if only to come back and quiz, that would be enough (although I suspect He's got multiple things up His sleeves yet to be seen).
You guys have become a second family to me, and it's crazy to think that, in most likelihood, I will not see you all together for at least two years.
I'll miss you.
Sunday, April 29
Wednesday, April 18
In the Rain
Snow has been pervading these past few days as winter leaves behind a stamp of her possession of this Canadian land.
And a gloomy, unsatisfied, drifting feeling has accompanied that slowly trickling icing-powder-fine snow until it takes work to move beyond just existing, to really living.
But today.... today, it Rained. And Rain deserves to be capitalized. There's just something so satisfying in Rain. I heard it all the time when I was growing up, for half of the time, it's Rainy season over there, which means days of endless rain, of yelling across the supper table because of Rain pounding on a tin roof, of dressing in bathing suits and having mud fights, of making slip and slides underneath our clotheslines, and dancing around in the pure pleasure of Rain.
Now, it goes without saying that I can't do any of this anymore, at least.... I probably shouldn't. But there's still something satisfying about Rain: in hearing it, in walking while rivulets make paths down your jacket, in knowing that the world is being washed clean.
That very cleanness has been what has been missing these past few days. Piles of procrastination, listlessness, unfulfilled ambitions, and getting back to the school grind have smudged and begrimed the windows of my everyday view.
But this Rain, it brings something new. It brings hope, it brings forgiveness, it brings starting anew.
And life is so GOOD when it Rains.
When you catch yourself hugging a certain little Munchkin who is wearing a bright yellow hat with a pink flower in the middle of a sidewalk.... surrounded by Rain.
When you get home and eat spaghetti and listen to *a symphony orchestra from Congo* (which really has nothing to do with Rain, except it brings the same joy as Rain does).
When He calls you through the simplicity that Rain holds as an illustration, to let Him wash way the things you've been holding against others, Him, and yourself the past few days.
When everything's washed away, and your focus sharpens and you put things into the proper perspective and suddenly the fears diminish and the next few days don't seem as hectic, and decisions are, okay, still as hard to make, but you know how to make them...
Today... it Rained.
And a gloomy, unsatisfied, drifting feeling has accompanied that slowly trickling icing-powder-fine snow until it takes work to move beyond just existing, to really living.
But today.... today, it Rained. And Rain deserves to be capitalized. There's just something so satisfying in Rain. I heard it all the time when I was growing up, for half of the time, it's Rainy season over there, which means days of endless rain, of yelling across the supper table because of Rain pounding on a tin roof, of dressing in bathing suits and having mud fights, of making slip and slides underneath our clotheslines, and dancing around in the pure pleasure of Rain.
Now, it goes without saying that I can't do any of this anymore, at least.... I probably shouldn't. But there's still something satisfying about Rain: in hearing it, in walking while rivulets make paths down your jacket, in knowing that the world is being washed clean.
That very cleanness has been what has been missing these past few days. Piles of procrastination, listlessness, unfulfilled ambitions, and getting back to the school grind have smudged and begrimed the windows of my everyday view.
But this Rain, it brings something new. It brings hope, it brings forgiveness, it brings starting anew.
And life is so GOOD when it Rains.
When you catch yourself hugging a certain little Munchkin who is wearing a bright yellow hat with a pink flower in the middle of a sidewalk.... surrounded by Rain.
When you get home and eat spaghetti and listen to *a symphony orchestra from Congo* (which really has nothing to do with Rain, except it brings the same joy as Rain does).
When He calls you through the simplicity that Rain holds as an illustration, to let Him wash way the things you've been holding against others, Him, and yourself the past few days.
When everything's washed away, and your focus sharpens and you put things into the proper perspective and suddenly the fears diminish and the next few days don't seem as hectic, and decisions are, okay, still as hard to make, but you know how to make them...
Today... it Rained.
Friday, April 13
First
I was making my bed this morning when it hit me really hard.
I had been making homemade waffles and listening to music and everything seemed right, and all of a sudden I realized why.
It was as if He was saying, through those melodies, words, and songs, "This is the way it should be. I'm supposed to be first."
First.
And that word leads me to think of her. The one who is two years older than I and yet has the mind of a child.
It happens every time I pick her up from work, after going through the routine of hugs, putting on her jacket, getting all her bags in order, and finally getting out of the door. As soon as she's out of the building, the questions start coming. Questions that are asked with single hand motions, meaning things such as "stamps" "the video store" "the grocery store", etc. Places she wants to go, things she wants to do, and I have to remind her every time, "What comes first, munchkin?"
And she knows. She knows exactly what comes first, namely putting all her stuff away and then eating a snack, once we get home.
As soon as I remind her, she remembers and the questions come fewer and far between. So as soon as she starts signing, she knows to expect me to say, "That's not what we're talking about right now. As soon as we get done what's first, then we'll talk about what we can do. But what comes first?"
And those words resonate deeply.
All throughout this past week, He has been saying those words to me. During this time of relaxation and very little schedule, I don't have my devotion time scheduled in, and so it often gets pushed away, or ignored completely.
And so I have floated throughout this week, accomplishing some things, but not nearly what I thought I would. Devoid of purpose or the energy to get moving, I have wasted so much time.
It's as if, with a simple time shuffle, the time spent with Him alone becomes unimportant.
And that's not right.
Before anything else, before I successfully go about my day, I need to put Him first.
When I put Him first, it changes my outlook. It my view from looking in to looking up. It makes a huge difference.
Putting time with Him first in my list, but also putting Him first in the things that I say do, and think.
Anything I am, comes after all that He is.
He is first.
I had been making homemade waffles and listening to music and everything seemed right, and all of a sudden I realized why.
It was as if He was saying, through those melodies, words, and songs, "This is the way it should be. I'm supposed to be first."
First.
And that word leads me to think of her. The one who is two years older than I and yet has the mind of a child.
It happens every time I pick her up from work, after going through the routine of hugs, putting on her jacket, getting all her bags in order, and finally getting out of the door. As soon as she's out of the building, the questions start coming. Questions that are asked with single hand motions, meaning things such as "stamps" "the video store" "the grocery store", etc. Places she wants to go, things she wants to do, and I have to remind her every time, "What comes first, munchkin?"
And she knows. She knows exactly what comes first, namely putting all her stuff away and then eating a snack, once we get home.
As soon as I remind her, she remembers and the questions come fewer and far between. So as soon as she starts signing, she knows to expect me to say, "That's not what we're talking about right now. As soon as we get done what's first, then we'll talk about what we can do. But what comes first?"
And those words resonate deeply.
All throughout this past week, He has been saying those words to me. During this time of relaxation and very little schedule, I don't have my devotion time scheduled in, and so it often gets pushed away, or ignored completely.
And so I have floated throughout this week, accomplishing some things, but not nearly what I thought I would. Devoid of purpose or the energy to get moving, I have wasted so much time.
It's as if, with a simple time shuffle, the time spent with Him alone becomes unimportant.
And that's not right.
Before anything else, before I successfully go about my day, I need to put Him first.
When I put Him first, it changes my outlook. It my view from looking in to looking up. It makes a huge difference.
Putting time with Him first in my list, but also putting Him first in the things that I say do, and think.
Anything I am, comes after all that He is.
He is first.
Sunday, April 8
In the Refreshing
I heard a story last week that really hits home on this day of all days.
It was a story about a town near a river, and up the river they were planning to build a dam.
Out of packed earth.
Of course, the managers pitched the project in terms of tourists. enterprise growths, economy spurts and such, and the dam was built.
Now behind this dam, 15 million tonnes of water lay, built up, generating power.
And it makes you wonder what the people in that town just a few kilometres downstream were thinking about this dam.
The water pushing on the packed earth would actually pack it harder, but still...
What if it ever broke? That's a LOT of water.
But time went on and the generations passed by, and it still stands today. The grandchildren of the former residents of this town now go about their daily lives not even worrying about the dam upstream, because they're so used to it.
The threat has become so normal that it isn't even a threat anymore.
And as I approached this day of all days, this season which should be the chief among all seasons, instead of Christmas, which is only the signal of this culmination of everything He came for, I thought about how this story is applicable to how we view God.
In the Old Testament He is pictured as the roaring, awesome, earth-shaking, flood-creating, oath-making, powerful God who led by pillars of fire and smoke.
And even when we come to know Him at first, sometimes we see Him for who He truly is, in the awesomeness of His power.
But it fades. We live day in and day out, knowing that He is powerful, even citing it to one another. But do you really understand what that means?
He is the SAME today as He was the day the Father turned His face away and then three days later, when the Son was raised from the dead.
He has not changed.
We have just grown so used to what has always been there that we underestimate, undermine, some of who He is.
And I challenge you: think of Him anew.
Don't pass by this day, simply listening to the Easter story or scarfing down mini eggs. Remember the awesome act that lead to our redemption, but don't forget to think of Him as He is today.
He is Risen. He is alive. He works in people's hearts today. He is the I AM.
Indeed, there is something to be thankful for.
It was a story about a town near a river, and up the river they were planning to build a dam.
Out of packed earth.
Of course, the managers pitched the project in terms of tourists. enterprise growths, economy spurts and such, and the dam was built.
Now behind this dam, 15 million tonnes of water lay, built up, generating power.
And it makes you wonder what the people in that town just a few kilometres downstream were thinking about this dam.
The water pushing on the packed earth would actually pack it harder, but still...
What if it ever broke? That's a LOT of water.
But time went on and the generations passed by, and it still stands today. The grandchildren of the former residents of this town now go about their daily lives not even worrying about the dam upstream, because they're so used to it.
The threat has become so normal that it isn't even a threat anymore.
And as I approached this day of all days, this season which should be the chief among all seasons, instead of Christmas, which is only the signal of this culmination of everything He came for, I thought about how this story is applicable to how we view God.
In the Old Testament He is pictured as the roaring, awesome, earth-shaking, flood-creating, oath-making, powerful God who led by pillars of fire and smoke.
And even when we come to know Him at first, sometimes we see Him for who He truly is, in the awesomeness of His power.
But it fades. We live day in and day out, knowing that He is powerful, even citing it to one another. But do you really understand what that means?
He is the SAME today as He was the day the Father turned His face away and then three days later, when the Son was raised from the dead.
He has not changed.
We have just grown so used to what has always been there that we underestimate, undermine, some of who He is.
And I challenge you: think of Him anew.
Don't pass by this day, simply listening to the Easter story or scarfing down mini eggs. Remember the awesome act that lead to our redemption, but don't forget to think of Him as He is today.
He is Risen. He is alive. He works in people's hearts today. He is the I AM.
Indeed, there is something to be thankful for.
Saturday, April 7
In the Burden
The other day I ran across her *blog*, and read through it. While doing so, there was one *post* that hit me especially hard, as well as the information and details that can be found at *A21's site*.
Because this is the same thing that I was talking about in relation to Colombia. There are things such as this that I have seen that I have a responsibility to do something about.
I could choose do nothing. I could shut down that tab on my browser and never pursue knowing anything more.
Because it seems so ginormous. It seem so very terribly wrong. It seems so horribly difficult to do anything worthwhile in the face of 27 million enslaved human beings RIGHT NOW.
But this number is composed of individuals, of single stories, of personal circumstances. If there's something that you or I can do that makes a difference to one, it matters. It matters immensely.
And I want to challenge you: do something about it. There's a list of 21 different ways to help out on the website I mentioned above, there is a prayer guide you can download, you can blog about it, you can share the video... you can do something.
Would you write a letter to one girl, telling her how beautiful she is?
Would you pray, knowing that the One who created these precious children of His will move?
Do it.
Because this is the same thing that I was talking about in relation to Colombia. There are things such as this that I have seen that I have a responsibility to do something about.
I could choose do nothing. I could shut down that tab on my browser and never pursue knowing anything more.
Because it seems so ginormous. It seem so very terribly wrong. It seems so horribly difficult to do anything worthwhile in the face of 27 million enslaved human beings RIGHT NOW.
But this number is composed of individuals, of single stories, of personal circumstances. If there's something that you or I can do that makes a difference to one, it matters. It matters immensely.
And I want to challenge you: do something about it. There's a list of 21 different ways to help out on the website I mentioned above, there is a prayer guide you can download, you can blog about it, you can share the video... you can do something.
Would you write a letter to one girl, telling her how beautiful she is?
Would you pray, knowing that the One who created these precious children of His will move?
Do it.
Friday, April 6
By Prayer
Another thing that we talked about the other day during the Elementary School Chapel was the fact that even the littlest of them could pray. Pray for the kids whose faces they saw and whose lives they were told about.
While in Colombia, the only solace that I had while leaving some of these children to face another day was the fact that prayer is powerful. It's so much powerful than even I remember at times.
But it's not just a means to an end, although there are people I care about and so I pray for them.
What if prayer became the end itself?
There's such peace in prayer. The knowledge that Someone so much more able to and powerful than I am, can and will do things for the good of those He loves. That the One who made the Earth is just as avidly involved in the lives of the human beings who inhabit it as He ever has been.
Prayer is also a glorious celebration. Before Jesus came, prayers were relegated to the Tabernacle (or the Temple, later on), where sacrifices were made, sins atoned for, and priests to be the go-betweens.
We had no access. And then in one glorious act, He did what no one else could do and ripped the cloth dividing the Holies of Holies from the rest of the Temple.
He made available what had been secret and selective.
And all around the world, people pray to Him, in different languages and ways.
This following song is not only one of the main songs from Sid Meier's Civilization IV computer game, but also the Lord's Prayer in Swahili.
It's such a privilege to pray.
Thursday, April 5
In Living Loved
And all of my determination to do better, to try harder, to refuse to give in to all the world offers me are only determinations until I act on them, and when I fall, it's His strength that I fall back on.
I ran across this video the other day, and it challenged me.
So many of the things that I do are because I want to get something back for myself after someone has said or done something to cause a reaction. Reactions of anger, surprise, fear, sadness, feeling worthless or low.
What if those reactions were replaced with the knowledge that I am full of worth in Him, if all of my actions sprung from the knowledge that I. am. loved.
And living that way changes things. It's not about my ability to love Him. It's about my response to His love that came first.
It's about living loved.
I ran across this video the other day, and it challenged me.
So many of the things that I do are because I want to get something back for myself after someone has said or done something to cause a reaction. Reactions of anger, surprise, fear, sadness, feeling worthless or low.
What if those reactions were replaced with the knowledge that I am full of worth in Him, if all of my actions sprung from the knowledge that I. am. loved.
And living that way changes things. It's not about my ability to love Him. It's about my response to His love that came first.
It's about living loved.
While Telling Them
The days slip past and I'm so good at blocking out being anywhere but here. My experience from leaving Cameroon has held me in good stead with my Colombian memories as well (pushing it behind a wall in my head).
So it felt so good this morning to speak at the Elementary Chapel for their Missions Day today. We showed pictures, we talked about places, and it's amazing how fast facts and memories fade.
And to start off our presentation, we showed a slideshow about the lighter side of being in Colombia, the bonds that grow between a group of teens stuck in a foreign country, and all the fun we had together.
And as I watched the video (which can be found *here*, because YouTube won't load it), I teared up.
It's been so long since I've thought about the people and places over there, other than the lessons that I've learned and trying to implement them.
Once the video was done, we passed the mic from person to person and talked about the situations we had seen kids over there in, showing the kids that others miles away were just like them.
Then, at the end, we showed our "real" slideshow:
And it challenges me to my very core.
Because the changes that I experienced to my viewpoint and to my plans for the future need to stay the same.
I need to refuse to succumb to the pressures of time, tiredness, conveniency, and to instead stand strong, not in my own strength, but in His.
And that's something that I'm struggling with learning. I'm learning just how weak I am and how easily I procrastinate and then beat myself up later. But I'm also learning about how to lean on His strength... about the letting go.
One of the biggest things that I learned while over in Colombia was the reality of mission in my everyday life. Even I, having grown up in the middle of a jungle to Bible-translating parents, put missions work into a box.
But as I daily saw people over in Colombia giving their all, loving those around them and fulfilling needs that the Colombians had, I saw the reality.
The reality is... missions is every single one of our callings. For some it's destined overseas, and even though that's what I've longed to do ever since childhood, the reality of that happening in the next few years is exciting and scary. For some, it's to stay over here in Canada and use their realm of influence to tell others about Him.
And for right now, that's my place. It was so easy to serve over there and to go to bed feeling as if you had accomplished something. Everything was typed out on schedule, the leaders were fairly confident of what was going on and you worked together as a team.
Here, it's hard. It's hard to break out of the habits that I have built over the last three-ish years of hiding within my own life and my little circle of friends. And it was only after coming back that my eyes were opened to the big impact that I can have in simply saying hello, smiling, asking about others' days, spending time with Junior High kids, being a good example, and palpably reaching out and starting up a new friendship.
It's so easy to slip back into a rut, and for a long time the spring play has effectively eclipsed any school life beyond getting the day over in order to prepare for performing that night. And then, this past week, I've been going through play withdrawal and instead spending hours that could be used better to surf the internet and procrastinate.
But watching those videos this morning reminded me, as we were reminding the kids, that our place is to do something about what we have seen.
For me, it's stepping out, changing my habits, my view on missions in my very near future and letting go of doing things on my strength.... and instead, doing it on His.
So it felt so good this morning to speak at the Elementary Chapel for their Missions Day today. We showed pictures, we talked about places, and it's amazing how fast facts and memories fade.
And to start off our presentation, we showed a slideshow about the lighter side of being in Colombia, the bonds that grow between a group of teens stuck in a foreign country, and all the fun we had together.
And as I watched the video (which can be found *here*, because YouTube won't load it), I teared up.
It's been so long since I've thought about the people and places over there, other than the lessons that I've learned and trying to implement them.
Once the video was done, we passed the mic from person to person and talked about the situations we had seen kids over there in, showing the kids that others miles away were just like them.
Then, at the end, we showed our "real" slideshow:
And it challenges me to my very core.
Because the changes that I experienced to my viewpoint and to my plans for the future need to stay the same.
I need to refuse to succumb to the pressures of time, tiredness, conveniency, and to instead stand strong, not in my own strength, but in His.
And that's something that I'm struggling with learning. I'm learning just how weak I am and how easily I procrastinate and then beat myself up later. But I'm also learning about how to lean on His strength... about the letting go.
One of the biggest things that I learned while over in Colombia was the reality of mission in my everyday life. Even I, having grown up in the middle of a jungle to Bible-translating parents, put missions work into a box.
But as I daily saw people over in Colombia giving their all, loving those around them and fulfilling needs that the Colombians had, I saw the reality.
The reality is... missions is every single one of our callings. For some it's destined overseas, and even though that's what I've longed to do ever since childhood, the reality of that happening in the next few years is exciting and scary. For some, it's to stay over here in Canada and use their realm of influence to tell others about Him.
And for right now, that's my place. It was so easy to serve over there and to go to bed feeling as if you had accomplished something. Everything was typed out on schedule, the leaders were fairly confident of what was going on and you worked together as a team.
Here, it's hard. It's hard to break out of the habits that I have built over the last three-ish years of hiding within my own life and my little circle of friends. And it was only after coming back that my eyes were opened to the big impact that I can have in simply saying hello, smiling, asking about others' days, spending time with Junior High kids, being a good example, and palpably reaching out and starting up a new friendship.
It's so easy to slip back into a rut, and for a long time the spring play has effectively eclipsed any school life beyond getting the day over in order to prepare for performing that night. And then, this past week, I've been going through play withdrawal and instead spending hours that could be used better to surf the internet and procrastinate.
But watching those videos this morning reminded me, as we were reminding the kids, that our place is to do something about what we have seen.
For me, it's stepping out, changing my habits, my view on missions in my very near future and letting go of doing things on my strength.... and instead, doing it on His.
Sunday, April 1
The Answer to My Hosanna
Woke up "late" this morning, ate breakfast and did my devotions in peace after seven extra people in the house this weekend. Getting ready to go to church, the calm and quiet was the perfect balm for the harried and people filled last few days.
Although I wouldn't trade them for anything, these past few days have been filled with the hustle and bustle of everyday life combined with balancing my two worlds of school and the spring play.
And so I slipped on shoes, zipped up my coat, and set foot in the beautiful world outside.
It's turning to spring (fingers crossed) and the weather outside is gorgeous, if but a tad windy.
I reveled in the quiet, the distant greetings of seniors as they made their way to church, the way the new green tips of the fir trees contrasted against the clear blue of the sky, and how at peace everything was.
I didn't need to say a word.
We just sat there, in a way, me and Him. Me: listening, smiling, and loving Him for all that He has created. Him: smiling at my joy and agreeing with me.
I arrived at church, greeted people I knew and truly worshiped as the songs were sung, and others around seemingly faded as this joy and peace settled over me and I was in a moment of thanksgiving.
And the pastor got up and started speaking, and it took me by surprise to find out that today was Palm Sunday.
The pastor started talking about how He walked over the Mount of Olives and rode a donkey, fulfilling key prophecies that people recognized by calling Him the Son of David.
But the other thing that they called out, while laying down robes and palm branches.... a Hosanna.
A way of praising... but its meaning? Something that made think:
"Please save" or "save now".
They were crying this out as the one whose name is Jesus, Yeshua, the Lord who saves, was riding into Jerusalem.
Do you see the promise? Hear the eminent coming of a victory?
And not that long after, He answered their cry.
He answered by hanging on a cross, by providing a way to be saved.
It's so sad how sometimes we as a culture, and most definitely me, as an individual, view Easter as a time of no school, more church services, spending time with family, of even gruesome death and pain.
But view it as the fulfillment of centuries of people's groaning, pain, suffering, and crying out of "Hosanna!"?
Viewing it as the answer to my cry of "Hosanna!" when life overwhelms and threatens to crush the joy of life out of me?
Easter brings so much more than dyeing eggs, dressing up little children in cute clothes, spending time with family and taking a much-needed breather.
It brings the answer to the world's cry of "Hosanna!".
Although I wouldn't trade them for anything, these past few days have been filled with the hustle and bustle of everyday life combined with balancing my two worlds of school and the spring play.
And so I slipped on shoes, zipped up my coat, and set foot in the beautiful world outside.
It's turning to spring (fingers crossed) and the weather outside is gorgeous, if but a tad windy.
I reveled in the quiet, the distant greetings of seniors as they made their way to church, the way the new green tips of the fir trees contrasted against the clear blue of the sky, and how at peace everything was.
I didn't need to say a word.
We just sat there, in a way, me and Him. Me: listening, smiling, and loving Him for all that He has created. Him: smiling at my joy and agreeing with me.
I arrived at church, greeted people I knew and truly worshiped as the songs were sung, and others around seemingly faded as this joy and peace settled over me and I was in a moment of thanksgiving.
And the pastor got up and started speaking, and it took me by surprise to find out that today was Palm Sunday.
The pastor started talking about how He walked over the Mount of Olives and rode a donkey, fulfilling key prophecies that people recognized by calling Him the Son of David.
But the other thing that they called out, while laying down robes and palm branches.... a Hosanna.
A way of praising... but its meaning? Something that made think:
"Please save" or "save now".
They were crying this out as the one whose name is Jesus, Yeshua, the Lord who saves, was riding into Jerusalem.
Do you see the promise? Hear the eminent coming of a victory?
And not that long after, He answered their cry.
He answered by hanging on a cross, by providing a way to be saved.
It's so sad how sometimes we as a culture, and most definitely me, as an individual, view Easter as a time of no school, more church services, spending time with family, of even gruesome death and pain.
But view it as the fulfillment of centuries of people's groaning, pain, suffering, and crying out of "Hosanna!"?
Viewing it as the answer to my cry of "Hosanna!" when life overwhelms and threatens to crush the joy of life out of me?
Easter brings so much more than dyeing eggs, dressing up little children in cute clothes, spending time with family and taking a much-needed breather.
It brings the answer to the world's cry of "Hosanna!".
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