Choose Well

What happens next does matter most!
    To drop my eyes with shoulders bent,
        And walk away from break of day?
Into the night self-engrossed,
    And tread only where the bitter went?

This moment now shall choice be made
    'Tween hope, despair; to love or hate?
        Will others' speech so deeply reach?
Or will your Love in me invade?
    Or will your Light new heart create?

"Choose well," do whisp'ring angels say,
    "It matters more than you may think."
        But another voice gnaws at my choice.
A dark, dark shadow stands in the way...
    But of his cup I will not drink!

So stand I shall with friends beside,
    And face and eyes all held up high,
        With hope and love 'neath Love above,
And live because of him who died,
    To walk in Light until I die!

Hourglass

That old clock's ticking like it's the last day of the world.

That captain's wheel spinning, hands a blur.

Our roads spiral quickly together,

Soon to join forever

As one.

Smiles spread and grins grow.

A little life multiplies into new joy and hope.

Before we know it, saplings of bright green jump and thrive

Then midnight strikes and the pillows meet our old, accomplished eyes

Spring Faith

Aye, this be a new chapter. God has written a suspenseful one, but I believe it’s coming to an end. Very old junk, old hurts, present exposure, present pain, new healing, new life! The previous chapter was one of colorful adventure in Vancouver, in Thailand and Malaysia with new friends from around the world, and in a beautiful community fighting to grow closer to God. But it ended 7 weeks ago in Alberta with a gray-scale Tuesday morning conversation that I’ll never forget.


The cat was out of the bag and the closet opened and contents spilled out. I was in trouble for mistakes I had made nearly a year before. That day saw some light though: I vowed to make things right and Jesus was in front of me – the beacon of reconciliation to lead the way. Emotions came and went: shame and confusion, then anger, then eventually and God-willing, compassion; to step out of my shoes and into another’s. I finally sensed some of the trouble I caused and squirmed uneasily. Then the good news set in, “This can be restored.” Really, truly made right.


It’s been a great story, if I may say so. The enemy, the antagonist, wasn’t clear for a time. At first I thought it was the then-revealed victim. Of course I discovered the enemy is rarely the person who’s hurt. The enemy is instead the one that silences the promise of healing. And his destiny is set, isn’t it?


I had a mediator – a godly man to help me; to defend me but also to make me see the wholeness of what I’d done, mixed with the destruction wrought by another who does not come into this tale… a child whose actions were never reckoned for. So I was not wholly to blame, but some blame was mine, and it is the role of a friend to reveal that if need be.


The River Time coursed by… it was mostly frozen at first, advancing at an agonizingly slow pace. But it picked up, thawed by the great Sun, by breaths of the great Creator who wished to test my patience and my integrity.


I ran the course with bow set stubbornly straight. Indeed, I may have never been so set in my ways as I was these last couple months; set on making things right, on seeing this through. As a character learns his strengths and weaknesses, I have learned and admit proudly that I am a Carer. Though clinging to selfishness at times, I have been endowed with a capacity to care. I am a cacophony of selfishness and selflessness, but inevitably, with enough time spent with Jesus, the melodies of love and peace and patience will ever carry on and away and drown out the harsh discords of self-demand. There was a lovely harbor I regrettably stole from in my youth. But I sailed my ship back there and mended what I could. Recovery will take time but I believe I’ve done my part for now. The rest, thankfully, is up to the Shipwright and the Repairman, the God of the land and the sea.


And the page turns as a large hand titles a new chapter, "Spring Faith."

May it be a sweet, sweet sound

This song really hit me at church. When we speak to God, he listens. And, it's a sweet, sweet sound in his ear.

I love you Lord

And I lift my voice

To worship you

Oh my soul Rejoice

Take joy, my King

In what you hear

May it be a sweet, sweet sound

In your ear

Testing Times

Though my name sullied may be,
Yours far more is stomped about,
The diff'rence, though, easily seen:
Guilt I have while you're without.

But that thing you lacked; guilt unknown,
You took from me and bore yourself
At the cross that made the curtain torn
And threw the world upon itself

Now my life is in your hands
And testing times I find I'm in.
But this day's end will have me stand
And with your power find peace within.

Easier said than done, I fear
How to keep from running away?
The answer's simple: You say, "Draw near,
Through this, together, we'll find a way."

The Oddness of Transition and "Home"

Thailand to Canada, Vancouver to Turner Valley.

Where am I?

After hours and hours of plane travel and Greyhound rides, I don't know where I am. But I'm still happy - I still have joy.

This base in Turner Valley, Alberta, Canada has been my home away from home for the last two and a half years. Vancouver wasn't home. So when I arrived there and felt the relief of everything western and convenient and familiar language, I was relieved only mostly. For I was still not "home." Because home is in Turner Valley. (But home is in Escalon, California? That one still gets me. I love travelling so much, but it confuses me a little about what to call "home." So I find myself calling every place I sleep "home." The jury's still out one whether I'm fine with that or not.)

So my week and a half in Vancouver was slightly awkward. (And I don't use that over-used word freely.) I was waiting for the final relief of the Discipleship Training School - debrief, retreat, and all - to wrap up.

I can't tell you how relieved I was to enter the rest that awaited me at Turner Valley. Inquisitive and hilarious friends, picking up our relationships where they left off, welcomed me back. They not only made up my room, but brought my stuff out of storage - a task I was not looking forward to.

Possibly the best thing that's happened being back was a happenstance conversation with a local stranger. Jim struck up the conversation as our pedestrian selves shared a road on a warm, snow-melt kind of day.  He's had his share of difficulty lately. Between being kicked out of his job and losing his wife last year, he kept a positive spirit and admitted there had been some inner healing even today, by laying flowers on her grave.

But before he shared about his tragic loss, I was prompted unexpectedly to ask him a question (prefaced of course): "Jim, this might sound a little crazy (there's the preface), but do you have any aches or pains in your body?" After an overwhelmingly affirmative answer, I followed up my question with another one to top it in strangeness, "Can I pray for you? I just got back from a mission trip and I've seen people healed and they've felt peace. God can heal your body."

Though he danced around the question, and again politely declined when I repeated it at the end of the conversation, I couldn't help but feel successful. Since success is when we obey God, I did well. And it was just the opportunity I needed to realize that though my DTS staffing experience has dissolved, the needs of the world and the calling from God remain. And though change and transition may cause the ground beneath me to feel shifty and swirly, there is no place where the Spirit of God cannot reach me.

Where can I go from your Spirit? 

   Where can I flee from your presence? 

 If I go up to the heavens, you are there; 

   if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. 

 If I rise on the wings of the dawn, 

   if I settle on the far side of the sea, 

 even there your hand will guide me, 

   your right hand will hold me fast. 

 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me 

   and the light become night around me,” 

 even the darkness will not be dark to you; 

   the night will shine like the day, 

   for darkness is as light to you.

(Ps. 139:7-12)

Trust in the Lord - A short speech to a Thai church

Oy, our awesome translator, did a good job
(from what I could tell, haha).

At a street church in Pattaya, Thailand, I gave a sermon about trusting in Jesus. It had become so important to me at the time (and still is) that I had to share it with others. Luckily, this opportunity was given to me and I spoke briefly through a translator to this Thai congregation.

Below is the audio file (edited because you probably don't know Thai). It's about 8 minutes long... now that's a short sermon!

Here is the outline:

• Intro.
• Tell your neighbor what you think of when you think of Jesus.
• Trusting Jesus
• Personal:
• Negative story - not letting go of that girl
• Positive story - trusting God to go to Vancouver for a few months and help with the Discipleship Training School
• Bible:
• Moses striking rock (Num. 20)
• Israel's idolatry (Judges-Malachi)
• Why we don't trust Jesus
• Disciples in the storm (Mk 4) - Because we don't know him well
• Wrong picture of him
• Dan 7
• Rev 1
• Application
• Get to know him better! Spend more time with Jesus.
• Trust Jesus with everything!
• What are you trying to hear now? Future plans? Wait on him (Ps. 27), take courage and wait for him to answer.
• Even if bad, bad things happen, always trust in him.

Podcast Powered By Podbean