“Weak” and Suffering, But…

The presentations of this mighty song keep getting better and better.

As you go to Home on this blog and scroll down, you will see that the next 2 entries expand on this topic of hope.



kaleidoscope shifts into beauty

This is going to be

A glorious unfolding

Just you wait and see

And you will be amazed.

(Lyrics in new Gospel song by Steve Curtis Chapman)

I am waiting for it. I dream about it. The Victory Parade where Jesus rides in triumph, and the whole world looks upon its conqueror, creator, sustainer, redeemer, avenger and King.

We have heard of the other parade. In shame and mockery up the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem, with almost everyone writing off the kindly Galilean. And standing in disgust and curiosity at the foot of a grizzly Cross.


We did not see the Homecoming parade in Heavenly portals where angels and translated saints applauded the glorified, resurrected Messiah, mission accomplished. (Read Psalm 45).

For so long in my upbringing I hoped upon a spiritual resurrection and reunion with happy saints in spirit in Heaven. I had no idea of a bodily resurrection and a healing of the planet (Isaiah 11, Psalm 16, Zephaniah in its entirety). But the lights have come on. The sovereignty of God has shone brilliantly. The Plan of Redemption is unstoppable. Look to Romans 8:

18 For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.

19 For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God.

20 For the creature was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason of him who hath subjected the same in hope,

21 Because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.

22 For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now.

23 And not only they, but ourselves also, which have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body

Our Little Lives

Alfalfa takes the winter melt

Then basks in quickening sun

Rejoices in rich peacock blue

Then sees its flowers gone.

The smallness of it all a shock

The shortness of its span

Until absorbed in Christ’s rich love

And timeless, joyful Plan.

I’ll leave off with the poetry. A dear and trusted friend once sat across the table from me, smiled and said:

“You know the older I get, the more limited my sphere appears. I love my family. Invest lots of time in them. I do my job in good conscience and see periodic rewards. I have a small clutch of valued friends. We engage in mutual uplift and help and the occasional good time. My plans and ambitions are in jeopardy of shrinking. I battle monotony and self-doubt. I do not connect with the larger initiatives of my community. I wonder if that is all there is for me.”

I identify with a lot of this. I woke up this morning with prayer and requests for blessing in this day. We intend to visit my Mother, age 89 in another city. She is in fine physical condition but suffers pathetic loss of memory. Every visit appears to be enjoyable for her in the moment. But the details are soon jumbled and forgotten. She has one remaining friend, Dorothy, and they chat each day by phone.

In a chaplaincy role elsewhere I have watched other seniors leave this life by increments. I have consoled them by saying that on the eternal scale of things they are still very young. Life goes on for believers in the ever-expanding sphere of Jesus’ love and activity. Read John’s Gospel chapter fourteen. Be enlarged.


Still In

So early again this morning
Nagging lower back
And she had the day off
So many doctors lately
Prodding, poking and scanning
And then that word
About a quarter of it had to go.
Fifty-fifty chance of a bag.”
She sat by the dinette window
Waiting for the kettle
(Would there be a ripple from anyone
Parents both gone.
Brother moved out east
To in-laws’ town.
The favourite nephew
Here at the College.
Occasionally suppers for him.
There would be the girls
At the Church Book Club.
Her two cousins.
Couple of fellow staff
At the dollar store.
Pretty much it.
Opened the window
For some kindly spring air
Baby in the unit below
Bawling for breakfast.
Eastern sky above the roofs
Promising pink glory
The kind she often treasured
On her walks.
On the back lawn
Two little rabbits
Perched softly in the dew.
Lord has His eye on THEM.
And a couple of robins
Leaving off their wake-up tunes
For a game of chase-and-mate.
So beautiful, regardless.
Smiling as the kettle went off
“Yes still in the Symphony, Girl.
Still in.”