Kayaking

I have to say, for a couple days I was a little unsatisfied that I lived in a town so far away from civilization. The last trip in to Vancouver, and then my trip in to Duncan and Nanaimo, actually made me think that I would like to live somewhere a little more populated. See for a while I couldn't stand living in Van. I got claustrophobic and ached for somewhere with hardly any people and open air and ocean. But my last couple trips made me realize that I could adapt to living in a town or even Vancouver fairly easily. Doesn't mean I'd like it. Just that I could do it with some measure of success.

But then I went kayaking this morning. I didn't want to get up, but when I finally dragged myself out of bed and when we finally got onto the water (at 9 am - I was up and kayaking by 9 am on a Saturday) I realized that I am very lucky to live here.

Being on the open water like that, just gliding along in the quiet of the morning, paddling between the islands and exploring beaches, watching the marine life - it was pretty breathtaking. I felt really connected to nature. I said to Drew, "I think I was born to live here." It helped that it was an incredible day (I actually got sunburned, it was that nice out) and that the water was calm and that I was with awesome people. But even just being that physically close to the water, breathing the salt air - it was fantastic. It fed my soul. It was so much nicer than just zooming along on a motorized boat. I actually got to take in my surroundings, work with the water, just think only about the islands and the water and the little fish swimming in great clouds below my kayak. And getting out to explore some of the islands, seeing the interesting shells and stopping at the tidal pools to watch crabs fight and shellfish feed - it just takes life to a whole other level. I got to lay on a sandy beach with blue ocean stretching out in front of me. I got to dig my feet into warm sand in the shallow water, chase tiny bullheads, and hop along boulders and driftwood bleached white from the sun. I got to find beautiful shells and stones and discover the tiny pearls that mussels make.

And then tonight, after having an afternoon nap, we went out and had a fire on the beach. And we got to see phosphorescence! That's the first time this year I've gotten to see it. So beautiful.

And I think what made it extra nice is that I got to do that with people I like and care about. And there was no agenda, no time frame, just taking life a little slower, having time to breathe and be us.

Some days, I wish I had a time machine.

I'm having a moment of nostalgia. I wish I was a youth again, just for a day. I miss my friends in Vancouver and those "good ol' days" at BYG - Broadway Youth Group, for those that don't know. I miss the youth nights with the awesome youth worship band and the Spirit-filled preaching. I miss the whole atmosphere of youth group - the fun, the expectancy, the bittersweet feeling that Fridays were far too short. I miss doing stuff like photo scavenger hunt, and wacky games, and going to see the fireworks at English Bay during the summer. I miss going to Fall Breakaway and youth convention and Camp Yukon. I felt so fresh and naive - everything about God was such a wonder to me. Not that I do not experience wonder and awe at what God does now! But rather, I had no knowledge about God other than He was in my life, so everything I learned was new and amazing. And I miss the group of people. I miss the times when the Holy Spirit moved on my friends in our prayer huddles. I miss ministering to my friends and being used of God in such an unknowing way. I miss being alongside those other youth and watching them experience God and discover who they were.

I miss life in Vancouver a bit too, actually. I think I like summers there, though winters are dreary and too much time there is draining. But I really liked roller blading down False Creek and around English Bay. I liked meeting with people for coffee and walks and build-your-own stirfry. I liked going to Silver City and going shopping at Metrotown. I liked walking down the hot streets and dipping in for a cool frappucino. I don't miss sitting shivering at bus stops for 45 minutes! I liked going for sushi and stopping in at Chapters for an hour. Or the library!

But mostly I miss the people. I miss Broadway Church and BYG, though I know that it is not the same place as it was 10 years ago - obviously. I feel like BYG and my life at that time is a friend who passed away and whom I am remembering fondly. I feel like my life ended when I moved away from Vancouver and restarted as a completely different person when I started college in Abbotsford. Truly, I am a completely different person than who I was. And so are all of my friends from Vancouver, and all the people I used to go to BYG with. I wish I could reconcile the two - bring that atmosphere and feeling here along with the wisdom and experience and opportunity I have now. I wish that I could just rewind time to 10 years ago, just for a day...preferably on a Friday. lol.

My diamond ring

So last week, I tried on an engagement ring. No, I am not engaged. I do not even have someone to be engaged to. I was just walking by Tiffany & Co in Vancouver and decided I'd go in.

I've had five girlfriends in the last year get married. Lots of oohing and aahing over dresses and wedding rings. Lots of looking on the internet for different styles of bands and diamonds. So I thought going in to Tiffany's would be fun.

I was wearing jeans and a hoodie, had a backpack on and my laptop case slung over my shoulder. But I got treated like I could actually afford those glittering stars in the display cases - which made me feel nice. I did feel slightly like a criminal being in there without the intention of buying anything - but the lady behind the ring counter did offer to let me try on rings. So I did. I tried on a beautiful, 2 carat diamond ring with trilliant cut side diamonds, worth $47,000 - providentially only able to fit on my ring finger. I didn't try on the 1.3 million dollar 6 carat ring in the case next to it. I should have.

She asked if she should write down the design specs for my $47 grand ring - which I said no, thank you - but she gave me a Tiffany's Diamonds booklet with her card in it marking the page with the picture of the ring I tried on. I joked that i just needed to go get a rich boyfriend and I'd be set.

Seriously though. Who would buy a 1.3 million dollar engagement ring?! That diamond was like the size of a quarter! You'd want to insure your hand, not just your diamond!

To Stand

"Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm." (Eph 6:13)

This week has been very much about learning to stand, having done all.

If any of you noticed, one facebook status I put up this week was "and then BAM! it comes out of left field." That's what it felt like this week. I started off very excited, fired up and inspired to do some planning for this summer and to lay down some serious plan of action. I felt like things were starting to come into place - not just in my life personally, but in the church, and in some plans I have for my department. I could see God starting to mobilize people, and like chess pieces, move things into place. I could see it.

And then, almost a day later, the first wave came. I was a little shocked, as it was a personal failure of mine regarding an issue I thought I'd dealt with a long time ago. But God had spoken to me years ago saying that my sin doesn't disqualify me from his love and I am not condemned, as I stand in His love and His blood. So I repented, rebuked the enemy, dusted myself off and kept going.

A couple days later, something else came up. I reacted badly, had a bit of a temper tantrum, got myself under control, and simmered a bit. Decided not to talk about it until I could deal with the issue. That in itself was a victory, as usually I just spew until it's a huge mess. I decided not to spew so much after the initial spewing - that it would really only make things worse.

But I was hurting. A lady in my church once gave the analogy that we are like tubes of tooth paste, and the enemy squeezes to see if there are any cracks that we will ooze out of. I felt that this was a squeeze and that it had hit a nerve (my sense of value and trust, and my reaction to spew, which causes dissension). So then I had to go back to the people I had initially spewed to and tell them I was wrong.

The next morning there was some stuff with some others going on. The lady who had told me about the toothpaste analogy pulled me aside and said, "The enemy is trying to create division and chaos." It was kind of a dose of cold water. I was like, oh, duh! All of a sudden I saw the stuff for what it was. So I then decided that I would be a thermostat, not a thermometer - not succumb to the spiritual temperature, but rather change it! I sat there over my computer and prayed that, and prayed over the situations around me, asked forgiveness for being a thermometer and asked strength to be a thermostat and not spew.

Not five minutes later, I had another situation. This was in a completely different area of my life but it still challenged my decision not to spew. Like the other situations, this was completely out of left field. My prayer fresh in my mind, I clamped my mouth shut and left - and then cried. I was going to call my mom, who I usually call to whine to, but providentially she wasn't there - and none of the others who I would call to whine to were available either. So I decided to call my prayer partner instead and ask for prayer. God bless her. All I have to say is, if you don't have a prayer partner, someone with whom there is mutual love and trust that you can call at any time and pray with...get one!!!! ESSENTIAL.

So she prayed for me, prefacing everything by saying that my decision to be a thermostat and not a thermometer was awesome and that because of that, the enemy would attack again - he looks to take down the ones that are still standing, not the ones whom have already fallen - so be on guard!! Then she prayed, and my spirit felt like it was rising up and praising God within me. After we got off the phone, I felt like I was literally blazing with the power of the Holy Spirit. I prayed up a storm - prayed into the situations around me and for covering.

For the rest of the day, I was on guard. And I felt what should have been a conspicuous lack of attack from the enemy. But the next morning, and by this time it was Saturday, there was no blatant attack...just a whispering and a nagging and a very quiet squeezing of my sense of value. I felt like I was a dog gnawing on an old bone that had nothing left on it. So I went to address the issue - a continuation of the issue I initially spewed about a few days before. And then BAM! there was the blatant hit. Only this was the worse because I knew I should have left it alone - I felt like I pursued it and opened myself wide up to the hit - and because it just attacked my sense of value even more. And challenged my decision not to spew and also my personal conviction to submit to leadership.

I came away in tears and frustration and deep hurt. You know what I do when I am mad and upset? I clean. I don't know why. I just do. So I went into my kitchen and attacked my dishes - and thought it through. I decided, once again, to submit, even if I felt like I shouldn't...which I have to tell you, is hard. And it hurts. When you feel that you're justified in what you're feeling, if not what you do (I wasn't justified in most of what I did this week!) it is so hard to submit. Jesus calls us to take up our cross, to die to self, to put others before ourselves...and I'm telling you, dying to self is hard. I decided that God was my portion and that the issue was really not half as big as I made it out to be. Thankfully, God showed me the truth of the situation and I was able to repent, and like I said, submit.

My friend was coming over, so I sat down in Elmer's office on my computer to wait for her. I was banging out an email when she came to the door. I invited her in and she replied, "God told me to bring you a gift." I looked at her and she lifted up a can of Israeli coffee, which she knows I love. I burst into tears. Not just little ones - big, heaving sobs. I thought, "God cares!!"

God had told my friend to bring me a gift. Usually I am not a gifts person - I'd much rather spend time with someone and have excellent conversation than receive a gift - but the main issue this week had been over the loss of an object, and tied into that was all sorts of value issues. So for God to impress on someone to specifically give me a gift, showed me that he saw my heart and hurts and cared about them and me. Like the song goes, "There is none like you. No one else can touch my heart like you do. I could search for all eternity long and find, there is none like you."

After that, I was able to go and apologize. Where I thought there would be anger and rubbing my nose in it, instead there was grace with that person. It's so nice to be around people who don't hold things against you.

I still felt battered after this week. The battle was over but I had some bruises. Another friend came by after work on Saturday and I was able to relay how this week went. Again, there was compassion, encouragement (not commiserating! There's a difference!!), and loads of prayers and hugs.

My pastor told me how God had once illuminated the verse I posted at the beginning. He used to have a couple of Dobermans, which he would take to the river to swim in. When the water was rushing and high, they would go swimming but he would have long extendable leashes on them. They would get into the current and get pulled along. He, being 6'2" and strong, would have to brace as hard as he could, holding onto the leashes until the dogs swung around into a back eddy, where they could finally get out of the river. If he had moved or tried to walk at all during that time, he would have gotten pulled off balance and fallen. God illuminated that verse: "having done all, to stand." Sometimes we need to simply stand against the current of the river until we get into a back eddy. This week I was bashed and bruised and sometimes knocked down by the current. But God has taught, and is still teaching me, to grab my shield of faith, brace, and stand.

So my advice: keep watch, brace, hold up that shield of faith, use the Sword of the Spirit!!! Trust God that he will deliver! Don't do anything rash or in the heat of the moment. Douse everything with prayer - yours and others'! Don't give up!

Healing - why not?

Ok. So another shot at updating my blog.

I am always amazed at the teaching hand of God in my life. He constantly grows me. Pastor George likens it to God working out the hard crusty bits in clay. Occasionally I look at my life and I think, "Oh, there's another one!"

God has been definitely working on my faith in him. Amidst the prophetic words spoken over this place and given to people in (and not in) this congregation, we as the leadership team (and the church) have really tried to "lay hold" of the promises of God to move in power and in the miraculous, and in the transformation of human lives.

A couple Saturdays ago we had a work bee here at the hotel. We wanted to get some work done on the sanctuary (the former strip bar). George was sanding, sanding, sanding away, and as happens he was covered in drywall dust. God then gave him a vision of him putting drywall mud on Deb's eyes. Now Deb had been diagnosed with some major cataracts. She was scheduled to go into surgery yesterday. She had been squinting, and complaining that she couldn't see, everything was foggy - she could hardly read a piece of paper in front of her. I know. I had to read stuff to her.

So God gives this vision to George. He was to take two specific ladies and have them up there with Deb so that they could lead her to the bathroom to wash off the drywall mud. Initially George was like, "But God, that's kind of your thing, not mine!" But George decided that it was better to be a fool and have it not happen than miss out on what God was going to do.

So the next day at church, George does this. He calls up Deb and the two ladies, and he tells us what God had shown him, and applies drywall mud to her eyelids. He prays for her and the ladies lead her to the bathroom.

She tells me later that when she was washing off the mud, she looked up into the mirror and the fog cleared away as if a curtain was pulled.

George prayed for her again after she got out of the washroom, because it was not complete - but every time he prayed it got clearer and clearer. The other day she said, "I can see the stop sign up at the top of the hill!!!" I can see that only because I have contacts!

As someone who knows Deb and live with her (practically, she lives in the same hallway with me and we hang out all the time) I know that her eyes were not that good before. I know that God has healed her! Hallelujah!!

Here's where my faith is challenged. I know healings happen. I myself was healed of lactose intolerance. My friend had told me that through Christ's death on the cross we have healing (see Isaiah 53) and that I just needed to receive it. So that night I went home and thanked God for healing me of lactose intolerance. The next morning I had a bowl of cereal with normal milk - where before I could only drink Lactaid milk and have lactaid pills if I had anything even remotely containing dairy. When I got home from school that day, I had two bowls of ice cream. And I was fine. I never have had to drink lactaid milk or use lactaid pills again. But I have never seen healings of stuff like broken bones or missing limbs.

But I think: why not? Really. God can. And God has. And God IS WILLING. I struggled with that for so long. I thought, maybe God wants me (or whomever) to be sick so that they can learn something. Perseverance. Dependence on Him. Or whatever.

But you know what? I think I am changing my thinking on that. Just because God is amazing and can bring good out of the bad - because he is good and never misses an opportunity to show his love - doesn't mean that the bad originates with him. Like, if healing was provided through the cross, then why would God then go back on what he's provided? Suffering produces perseverance. But is suffering sickness? Not necessarily. So we don't have to accept it. As George explains, Jesus prayed "Your kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven"....and there is no sickness in heaven. So why should there be here?

So really, why not? God is willing to heal us (look at the dude who said to Jesus "You can heal me if you are willing" and Jesus said "I am willing") and he gives us his power through his Holy Spirit. All things have been given to us. We are to be armed with His mighty strength.

What I have been trying to do lately is pray for people's infirmities with authority. Like, no wimpy prayers of "please heal him, maybe, if it's your will, or help him to get better quickly"....but how about "that sickness is not supposed to be here so we command it to go in the name of Jesus!" You know? Like, get indignant in my spirit about the injustices put on the people. Of course pray with discernment and tact and wisdom....but not lacking in the spiritual authority that God has given me.

A couple months ago, while George was playing the drums in church, he felt the urge to call out with a word of knowledge that there was someone with a hernia (or pain in their side, and he described the spot). A woman in the congregation hadn't told anyone but she had a hernia and she was scheduled to go for surgery. He called it out, and it was healed. Like, bulge gone and everything. Praise God!

I don't want to lay down and roll over when there's a spiritual battle going on. If this stuff isn't supposed to be here, then I don't want it. I want the wholeness that God promised through his word - physical wholeness included! And I want to be obedient to pray for that stuff too!

I was reading the Local Church Constitution for the PAOC today. It is littered all throughout how we believe in divine healing and that we are to encourage and practice praying for the sick. Why would we bother having that in our constitution if we shouldn't do it? Why would Jesus model it if we shouldn't do it? I don't know about you, but I want to see people healed - not just for the "cool factor" but because it will display God's glory and his love as he heals people who were broken!!! I know several people within even my own family whom I would love to see physically healed.

So I challenge you: pray for the sick! Don't accept that it's supposed to be there so that you can "learn a lesson" or something else. Jesus prayed for the sick - so should we. It's part of discipleship. And you know what? Believe that it will happen!!! Because really....why not?

Thanksgiving!

So I made turkey dinner for the first time yesterday! Okay so I've made a turkey before, just not by myself and not alone. (They're not the same thing, by the way). I got my mom to email me directions on how she makes turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce. I followed it pretty much to the T....except that I added my own personality to the stuffing. I made it with whole wheat buns (that's right! Booya for whole wheat!) and added fresh cranberries, chopped pecans, and apples. It was rather more separate and a little drier than Mom's usually is, but it tasted good. My gravy was too thin; I didn't have any corn starch so I used a flour roux (or however you spell it)...but it didn't turn out thick enough. But again, it tasted nice. It was more of a glaze than a gravy. Oh well. I burnt my cranberry sauce though. I burnt it good. I couldn't even salvage it, so I just chucked it. So unfortunately we had to use canned stuff. But again, it was still good. And I also made lemon cake with peaches (again, something I learned from Mom) with Cool Whip. Yummy... Oh yeah. And I brought a handful (armful) of oversized zucchini from the garden back home, so I split one in half and baked it with butter, fresh garlic, and oregano. Kari told me about that one. (She also told me about the brown sugar soy garlic spread to bake salmon fillets with. She knows, that one. She knows).

It was really great to have people come over and have Thanksgiving with me. During college, I was always fortunate enough to live in close proximity to my family, so I always went home for the holidays. But now I can't....so I'm especially thankful this time around for people to share holidays like this with. Thank God for church families. It was fun too!

We then watched a movie called Flywheel. It was quite a great story - so inspirational. I totally recommend it. Quality of cinematography is not that great, and acting is okay, but story is awesome. Totally encouraged me.

Red Mittens Inspired.

Ok Dad. Your blog did the trick. I officially want a pair of those Red Olympic Mittens. They look so warm and soft and Olympic-ish. I also wouldn't mind a Miga plushy. But if given the choice, I'll take the mittens. They're warmer.

I actually do support the Olympics. No, I don't like Vanoc's mismanagement of money or the gaudy construction on the banks of False Creek or any number of negative implications of Vancouver hosting the 2010 winter games. But I do like rallying behind young people who have worked extremely hard to do something that they love (or, in some cases, something that they are good at but have a more business-like approach to it) and supporting them as they represent me and my country.

Some people complain that the Olympics are all about money-grubbing and politics and that it's about the Big Man stepping on the little man, etc. But that's a negative implication that is caused by the money grubbers and the politicians (appointed or not...people can be political without being a part of the government, if you understand my use of the word)...not the athletes. Yes I know, athletes can be money grubbers and politicians themselves....but hear what I am saying. At the core of it, the Olympics are designed to celebrate the efforts of young people dedicated to excelling at the sport(s) they are in, by way of international competition. It is a chance to celebrate other countries' ethnicity and culture.

Look at the Beijing Olympics last summer. I was blown away by the performances put on, both by their athletes, and by their Opening and Closing Ceremonies. Being able to wake up to a call from my father, in Beijing, as he sat in the Opening Ceremonies, listening to the incredible drum beats pouring in through my cell phone, was an experience I'll never forget. Yes, the Closing Ceremony was extravagant by anyone's definition, but it was incredible to watch and exclaim over. Ok, so the money spent could be used to feed a small country. You're right. But the price we spend on our lattes every day could feed a child too. That's not my point. My point is that for what the Olympics are designed for - championing young people as they champion us, and celebrating the chance to connect with other nations and cultures - is independent of what people choose to do and how they want to misuse and abuse the Olympics. For myself, I want to support the efforts of young people and of my fellow Canadians, and celebrate in not only other nationalities and cultures, but my own, too. I love Canada, I really do. I don't love some things that the Canadian government does, or some things that my fellow Canadians do...but that doesn't mean I don't love my country. I simply refuse to be jaded by people's actions, so that I don't support all the hard work that these young people...and the work all the rest of those involved...have done and are doing.

So for me, I say, Go Canada!

And I really do want a pair of those mittens.