That's Smashing!

It's Wednesday afternoon, about 4:30 pm.  The boys are chatting and enjoying thier Wii game downstairs and I'm catching up on some email from a friend in the States.  He writes that he missed his flight and appointment at a meeting and wondered why he was delayed....to avoid a plane crash on the one he was supposed to catch?  To talk to someone needing help, or who will end their life if he wasn't there at the airport waiting...but he intervenes?  Nope, nothing dramatic happens...but he does have a potential life changing talk with another believer on his next flight.  "Cool", I was thinking half-way into the letter....neat way of thinking of upsetting circumstances!  An opportunity, if we wait for it, not getting upset or bent out of shape.

SMASH! SMASH!  I looked out my 2nd floor bedroom window and 4 boys (Grade 5-6) dressed in black seemed to be having a great time smashing glass bottles into smithereens in the alley way.  After a couple times, I thought they were done, but I heard more and a bit ticked off, went downstairs to let Cyclone out to bark at them and see if I could get them to stop.  Cyclone did a fine tyrade of barking and I went out the gate.  The alley way was empty (those boys are fast!) except for a long line of smashed glass, jagged and raw.  A car tried to inch past it, the lady smiled at me.  I went for the kitchen broom.  My ticked-offness was increasing as I swept pile by pile, wondering what the heck I was going to do to these kids as an encore.
A bike rode past.  Then I moved for another car, the man gave me an angry glare as he tried to navigate around the huge shards.  "Yah, wad 'up dude", I thought.  He glares at ME?  The nerve of some people.

I hear another broom sweeping down the way.  The guy on the bike lives right there, he had got out his broom and was doing a clean up too.  "Cool", I thought.  My mind went to the kids again.  I knew one of them from the kids class last year.  Maybe next time I see them,  I'll tell them that was not nice to smash bottles in our alley and their pictures will be up on the police wanted wall.  Maybe I'll just get to know their names and give them ice pops.

Throwing the last bucket of glass into the bin, I went over to talk to my neighbor.  He's a believer, has a 9-month old little one and seems like a nice guy.  "We'll see you again!" he said, as I headed back to my gate.  "You can count on it, with kids like that around!", I commented back.  We were both smiling.  Funny how the wierdest things can create a tad more community.  Divine appointments?  Yep, after I finish reading my friends letter, I think I'll grab the ice pops and meet some kids......

Good Friday Song

We were a varied bunch, about 200 or so packed into a church that usually has traditional Baptist meetings.  Messianic Jews from Fellowship of Messiah, with prayer cap and colored string, jean clad inner-city New Lifers, suit and tie seniors of Mission Baptist, house church members from the area and the Karen (Burma) with longyi and colorful woven vests from Citi Church.  We all packed in to sing, hear the words of the cross and pray together.  Apparently, this weekend there is also another calender convergance that rarely occurs, Orthodox Easter, "English" Easter, Passover, and Canada's Earth Day all on the same weekend.  "In this," noted Michael Wodlinger (rabbi/pastor) of Haverim Mashiach fellowship group, "God has not made a mistake!"  Unity under the cross would make a great topic this Easter!!!

One song that stuck out for me this morning was one that the Karen choir sang.  One that their choir director wrote and taught to them (in their native Karen) called  Look To The Cross:

Look on to the cross

To the bottom of the cross, I wish to go and rest.

It is a very high sheltering rock with the great shadow.

It is a place of escape and refuge during difficult times.

It is the road to rest and where heavy burdens are

lightened.

On the cross, there is my Jesus Christ

And with my broken heart, I am afraid to look upon Him

Though he suffered for me, His face always glows

With a heart of repentance, I bravely come

Jesus Chrsit, Your love is so great and wonderful

I should never follow where my heart leads me

When I think of all your love

Look on to the cross

May we all, from all traditions or no tradition, kneel at its shadow today, and everyday.  Thank you Yeshua, Jesus, Son of God, the Lamb who took on everything that burdens us and  as the Father embraces us as dear children, fill us with Your Holy Spirit of love and deep devotion. We are looking foward to Sunday morning, when the promise of new life is fulfilled, and and old hearts can be made new. 

A Morning Walk in the 'Hood

I decided to take the camera on my walk today.  After dropping off the compost at the neighborhood garden bin, we (Cyclone and I) decided to saunter down the "alley/street" of McGee. The usual pile of furniture, matresses and pallets......

 On this couch, there was an assortment of clothes, bags of buns and what not (beside our local playground).

Somebody discarded this picture, part of an overflow of personal stuff...looks like a good posture to learn for our neighborhood.

I like the creative use of old doors...you see this everywhere down here.

Shopping carts, a valuable commodity,can hold anything, ice chunks, laundry, a small couch, children and even broken tvs.

We love to know what's going on our community bulletin board...is a new gang in town?  Let us know!

Major reno's on an old building looks horrid but inspires hope!!

This cool section of wall looked like an unused door of a garage.  I love coming across this colorful, creative works of art!!

Back on our own street, this is the house and chair of our old neighbor.  She sits here to read her mail.  Unfortunately her gate broke off the hinge and she props it up on the chair when she isn't using it

Cyclone relaxing after a great walk!

 

Tsunami and Shakes

Waking up this morning to the news of the devestating earthquake and tsunami in Japan was another unreal experience.  Like Burma some years ago, Cyclone Nargis, like Haiti's tragic earthquake, like Christchurch in New Zealand or Australia's flood situation, each of the seemingly regular disasters happening all over the world....not to mention the Middle East demonstrations and a guy like Ghaddafi's son telling the press, "what you see out there is a joke, nothing more then a joke!".  Hope he remembers that line when he's held accountable one day, behind bars...although in his delusional state he is in a kind of sad self-made prison.  yikes.  Plus, almost unnoticed, we have passed into the yearly season of Lent. 

Ash Wednesday, the time of desert journeys and wilderness wanderings, according to the church calender.  Is this coincidence?  Our groaning world has entered into a colossal Ash Wednesday, whether they like it or not.  How can we prepare for the crashing wave of immediate and total destruction?  It sweeps away everything in its powerful advance, with no regard to people, cars, buildings or nuclear reactors.  Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.  Mortality knocks and keeps on knocking on our Internet and TV screens, across town and even on our very doors.  Who is next, who will save us, who will guide us through the wasteland, muck, debris and death? 

About 40 days from now we celebrate Good Friday and Easter Sunday.  The resurrection, the power of new life, abundance, of freedom, of the Kingdom to come, the King has returned from the desert of pain and death victorious and leading the way.  He sees our brokenness, our wringing of our hands, our dirty bodies and parched mouths and hollow stomachs.  He is sweeping away the props, the lies, the greed, the careless living.  Are we ready for it?

Sunday night, at St. Benedict's, we sang as we ended our service:

Thank You for healing me,
loving me,
staying with me,
for holding me,
helping me

Thank You for breaking my heart
Thank You for tearing me apart
Now I'm a strong, strong heart
Thank you for breaking my heart

Can I thank Him for that ? I mean I like the loving and healing and holding and helping , but breaking and tearing????  That hurts, but I realize, with our human nature, that's what it takes to purify and refine these ol' deceptive hearts.  In Your love and ultimate healing......"Thank You Lord, for breaking my heart".   

"Welcome Aboard!"

Guess what my oldest found written on the back of his new HT Ice-fishing Kit that he bought this afternoon.....

If this is your first "HT" product, Welcome Aboard......now that you are part of our family, I thought you might like to know a little more about our family business.  The remarkable growth of the "HT" product line was no accident.  From it's first stages as a hobby to its ever-increasing rapid growth as a business, God has always been the Major Shareholder.  We fell He has introduced you to us and that you are a part of His goodness.  In hard times, He has never failed in giving us the answers we needed.  Each product must reflect the integrity of the business, including our Major Shareholder.  If we sometimes fail, because we are human, we find it an absolute must to go the last mile to correct our mistake.  Our Major Shareholder is also our Heavenly Father, and it is a great comfort for us to have this security in these troubled times.

If you read these words and find that you are troubled or in need, our Heavenly Father has the answer you have been searching for.  God has told us to "come unto Him, all that labor and are heavy laden, for He will give you rest".  Additionally, "God so loved you and me that he gave His only son, Jesus Christ, to die in our place and that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life".

It is God's love in our family that has made this family business what it is today.  Just remember that anything is possible with God, when you make Him your Major Shareholder.

Best wishes and Good Fishing,
Paul F. Grahl    (HT Enterprises Inc.)

Can't beat that message on the product of something bought at the local Cabela's!!  Worth another read, don't you think?   Good fishing......!

"You Should Have Asked if They Were Christian"

Just got off the phone with a Christian parent whose son is invited to Josiah's 14th birthday bash and sleep-over.  When she found out where the party was, she had second thoughts and wanted to talk about it with me.  She said she felt sorry and awkward, but Maryland St. is "probably not the safest place to hold a sleep-over....don't you think?".  Steve, Jo and about 9 other boys are planning to watch movies, play sardines and dine on many snacks till the wee hours in a building at 514 Maryland St.  Our church, our second home, not far from Furby where we live.  I said, "we live on Furby not far from the church and we've been here many years and have hardly had any problems!" So it went, her misgivings, her misinformation (she has never walked or "stopped" in the West End before, even though she works in a nearby hospital).  I was feeling my blood boil a bit when she brought up the media.  "I always hear of incidents in that area on the news!"  I said that many of us who live here are dissapointed with the bias the news gives, when city-wide there are incidents all over the place and are never reported.  I told her I have my own bias, I love living here, the life and aliveness, the diversity of University students and hard working immigrants, normal families.  She had to chew on that for a few minutes before she answered, "well, I'll talk to my husband again about it and I'll let you know."  She thanked me for being open with her.  I wondered that if we had a few hours, I'd probably convince her to move here too!  I ended up with saying that we are here to make a difference, be good neighbors and raise our kids knowing the good, bad and ugly but trusting and believing God can change the stuff that isn't so good, and keep us safe at the same time (not that he has too, mind you...).  Well, even a drop off and pick up was risky for her to think about, no matter what I tried to reassure her.

After relating this to the boys (who were curious what the big topic was about), Jo was confused and questioning.  Alot of these guys at the sleep over are from a Christian school by suburb residences that he is going to this year.  "I can't believe it!"  he said.  "We've been here a long time! and we're doing good here!
 piped in Silas.  "You should've asked them if they were real Christians" Jo said.  Yep, that just might have been my next words out of my mouth.  To risk, to love, to walk the West End streets and trust in His grace to make this a good place for me, my kids, my church family....that is being a real Christian. 

You Need to Talk About Thier Dog

     "So we had this ESL teacher called David", Indy said with a smile, reminiscing.  "He said to our group, newly come from refugee camps to Canada, to make friends here you must talk about their pets first!" .  The people around the table, giggled and thought about Canadian conversations.  "Yes, so I saw my neighbors and talked about thier dog, or cat or whatever they had and it worked!  Except when I meet my Phillipino neighbor, they spoke broken English, I spoke broken English, we couldn't go back and forth!".  Our giggles became a little more louder, as Indy himself broke into a huge smile and laughed with us.  "In Burma, we don't care about our dogs like that", he kept on, "it was so strange to hear that, Canadians care more about dogs then people."   Wow, that one took my breath away.  What a commentary on our present society...what would he say at how much we spend on pet food (just the right kind), vet bills, toys and trinkets?  How much we actually talk about them at home to family members...one of the first things the kids do when they run down the stairs in the morning is give Cyclone a hug and kiss, and "Hi Mom!" after. 

     Anyways, Indy and I had been at a meeting of our West End Christian Collective group.  He had told about his recent trip to the Thai-Burma border in refugee camps of up to 50,000 people.  Children have grown up in these camps, never leaving its boundaries and are now youth with really no past and no future.  10 churches in one camp try to meet needs, but they woefully fall short of resources and tools to help people spiritually and physically.  A hill of humanity, with no where to run to or go if the Burma militia decides it's time for a raid.  Indy is a co-pastor of City Church, an immigrant and refugee church of 250 just a half block from our little church.  Asian, African, Caucasian worship there in unity and purpose...trying to heal from the past and struggle through a difficult present in the inner-city.  Many youth at this church are still searching for hope and a purpose, and love youth group every week but are faced with inner-city realities that bond them tight against gangs and racist neighbors.

     Will I talk about my pets with neighbors when I see them next (after the blizzard threatening this evening)?  I might, for that connection, but remembering a refugee's, an immigrant, a fellow Canadian's need for relationship, hopeless hearts and minds, a neighbor is one who stops at the side of the road to heal, understand and nuture (any smackings of Jesus' parable?? Of the Samaritan who stops....), I will follow the thread to get-to-know and to-be-known.  A little more like the surprising concern of the guy in the parable.  Perhaps this is a simple "how to" of neighborhood (and world) transformation?