Wishing I Could Be Jesus

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Angel & Carolllers

I recently attended a funeral for a young man who died too soon, leaving a wife and three young girls. The sadness overwhelms at times and it makes me wish I could be Jesus, just for a few minutes, just long enough to say, as He did, “arise.”

But then, I realize that He doesn’t need me to do His work for Him. He has already done it. He has already said that wondrous, mysterious word and brought that young man into His kingdom, given him time to have a productive, full life here on this earth, and then brought Him home, to the place where he has wanted to be, as a believer in Christ.

Often things don’t seem right to us. The world seems off kilter and full of so much pain and suffering it overwhelms us at times. And we want to be Jesus. We want to snap our fingers and make it all better. But He has already been at work. He has a plan for this earth, for each one of us, a plan that goes far beyond what we could ever imagine. He told the Hebrew people that when they were in circumstances that were full of pain and suffering – their captivity in Babylon. Living as slaves they no doubt often cried out to God to bring them relief from all the suffering and pain they saw around them.

This was His answer – “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart” (Jeremiah 29:11-13).

At this time of year some of us are in circumstances that are made even more difficult by all the joy and/or jollity around us. And sadness overwhelms.

Here are a few things we can do when that happens:

Look up. When we see all those decorated Christmas trees, look up. Look for the star or the angel on the top. And know Jesus is with you.

Look around. There are others who are struggling. Is there something you can do for them that will lighten their hearts, and yours?

Look ahead. Jesus has promised a bright future, and given us a way to know we are secure in his hand.

Yes, there are times I wish I could be Jesus. But then I remember – He is the Messiah, the Living God, our hope and our comfort. We don’t need anything else.

Love, In The Room

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file2331237210245A little boy named Bobby is purported to have said – “Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.”

When I read that quote I wondered about what that little boy would hear. The laughter of his siblings, the chatter of the adults; the snoring of his grandfather asleep in his favourite chair perhaps, or the cooking preparations going on in the kitchen; the whine of a new puppy or the mechanical sounds of electronic gifts already opened?

Or perhaps that young and obviously very discerning little boy was hearing something more ethereal. Perhaps he was hearing angels singing praises to the Christ Child, or the words of the Magi as they presented their gifts. Perhaps he was hearing the booming voice of our heavenly Father announcing the arrival of his Son on this earth. Or the voice of Jesus Himself, saying, “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

Those are indeed the sounds of love, a love so deep it is impossible to comprehend it. And that Love is present with us, in the room, because the Child whose birth we celebrate embodies love and gave us the greatest gift of all time, through a sacrifice performed on a cross in a tiny country in the Middle East over 2,000 years ago.

That little boy knew the secret to finding that Love. It’s a matter of shifting our focus from earthly things to things spiritual. In the rush and flurry of the Christmas season it’s easy to forget the fact that it is, in its essence, a spiritual time. It’s a time to reflect on the birth of a Saviour, a time to ponder our relationship with Him, a time to seek His forgiveness and grace.

Perhaps opening a Bible would be a good place to start, if you want to find that Love. The story is told in the very beginning of the New Testament. Matthew 1:18-23 reads: “This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about … All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel, which means “God with us.””

God, with us. Love, with us – in a room full of the joy of Christmas or in a homeless shelter; in a school room or an office tower; in a hospital or a grocery store; on a bus travelling across the country or a plane taking people home to their loved ones. He is always with us, everywhere.

So this Christmas, take the time to stop opening the presents. Sit back and just listen. Ponder the Christ Child.

Perhaps you too will discover that Love is, indeed, in the room.

War Story

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Mel Lee In Canadian Air Force uniform, age 25

My father usually refused to talk about the war. But once, over a cup of late-night tea, he did tell me one war story. He spent the first years of World War II in Canada, a clerk in the RCAF offices in Halifax. There’s a picture of him in uniform, brandishing a rifle, the Halifax harbour behind him. Then he was moved to England where he again worked at a desk. There’s a picture of him on a golf course in Ireland. Then, as the war was ending, my father was sent to Germany with the occupation forces. He found himself with the liberation army at the gates of Bergen-Belsen.* It was at that point, as the allies won and World War II was over, that my father’s war began.

He would never say what it was, specifically, that caused it to happen. Perhaps he looked too long into eyes glazed with hunger and shadowed with pain, eyes belonging to men and women who looked a hundred years old, ‘though they were in their twenties. Perhaps he could not stop staring at the piles of dead bodies, the bones and skulls, or perhaps he was required to record the numbers, the unfathomable numbers. Perhaps he could not bear the smiles of survivors who welcomed their deliverers in silence. He would never say what it was, but something that day, in that place, made my father’s mind stop. It stopped and could not go beyond the horror and the fear.

The fear put him on a psychiatric ward in a German hospital. He was afraid to leave it, afraid even to go for a walk beyond the grounds. One day a nurse came with some clothes and told him to get dressed. Thinking they were taking him for a walk in the hospital gardens, he complied. The nurse returned and escorted him out to the front gate. She locked it behind him and, without a word, left him there.

The familiar panic attack was immediate, but this time something else rang in my father’s mind. In the midst of his fear he became overwhelmed with the need to find a church. So he started walking. He found one of the huge gothic cathedrals so common in Europe. Though part of it had been destroyed by bombs, he stepped inside and sat down. Above the altar, high stained-glass windows glowed with light. As he stared, they began to move. My dad said he did not know how long he sat there watching, but the entire life of Christ flowed by before him, as though on a movie screen. When it was over, my father was no longer afraid. He returned to the hospital and told them it was time for him to go home.

My father’s war story is about a miracle, an event that healed his mind and his soul. In the midst of horror and fear, God was there. Isaiah said it well – “Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord, the Lord is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation” (Isaiah 12:2).

*April 15th, 2015 will be the 70th anniversary of the liberation of Bergen Belsen. My play about my father’s experience, A Pattern in Blue will be part of the Budding Playwrights Festival in Rosebud Alberta in May.

The Spur – A Defining Love

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  IMG_29490008

“I think you’re my pastor’s wife.” The elderly woman smiled up at me from her wheelchair. I nodded and chatted with her for a moment. When I looked up, I saw her husband brushing away tears. His wife had days when she recognized hardly anyone. It was only a matter of time before she would not even know him. The tears were brushed away quickly and he kissed the top of her head as he told me she’d been doing very well lately. Then, as always, he told me how much he loved his wife. “More every day,” he’d say. “More every day.” As he wheeled her away I stood in awe of such love.

It takes a special kind of love to care for those who are not able to respond, like patients suffering from Alzheimer’s disease. That kind of love is described in the Bible this way:

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

When we see such love lived, we stand in awe. How can this be done? How can we love this way, consistently, when it takes so much courage and strength and pure will to focus completely on someone else?

There is only one way, by relying on the One who is Love incarnate. His love flowing through us gives us the courage and strength and will. When we turn to Him and ask, “how can I do this?” He answers: “And now I will show you the most excellent way.” His love is pure and unconditional and totally other-focused. To demonstrate it, He gave his life for ours. He is the source of a pure and defining love.

Indeed, He is love.

Care giving for a person who has Alzheimer’s is one of the most difficult things anyone could attempt. To do it, one needs the kind of love only Jesus can provide. With Him as our source, anything is possible.

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This post is part of a blog tour honouring those who suffer with Alzheimer’s disease and those who care for them. Click on the links below to follow the tour.

Nov. 6th –Ruth L. Snyder- http://ruthlsnyder.com/

Nov. 7th –Sheila Seiler Lagrand- http://sheilalagrand.com/

Nov. 8th –Giovanni Gelati- http://gelatisscoop.blogspot.com/

Nov. 10th –Ruth L. Snyder- http://ruthlsnyder.com/

Nov. 10th –Cindy Noonan- http://www.cindynoonan.com/

Nov. 11th-Sue Badeau- http://suebadeau.webs.com/apps/blog/

Nov. 12th-Peggy Blann Phifer- http://www.whispersinpurple.com/

Nov. 13th-Sandy Sieber- http://pahistorybooks.blogspot.com/

Nov. 13th– Joy Ross Davis- http://joyrossdavis.com/blog/

Nov.14th –Karen Gass- http://www.cottonspice.net/

Nov. 17th –Patti J. Smith- http://gridirongrannyfootballfanatic.blogspot.com/

Nov. 18th-Tracy Krauss- http://www.tracykraussexpressionexpress.com/

Nov.19th –Melanie M. Jeschke- http://melaniejeschke.blogspot.com/

Nov.21st– Andrea J. Graham- http://www.christsglory.com/

Nov.22nd-Linda Wood Rondeau- http://lindarondeau.blogspot.com/

Nov.24th-Diane Huff Pitts- http://dianehuffpitts.com/

Nov.25th –Mark Venturini- http://markventurinijourney.blogspot.com/

 

Alzheimer’s Awareness Blog Tour

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2decover_1300x992(91)Alzheimer’s Disease Awareness and Caregivers Month Blog Tour

President Ronald Reagan designated November as National Alzheimer’s Disease Awareness Month in 1983. At the time, fewer than 2 million Americans had Alzheimer’s; today, the number of people with the disease has soared to nearly 5.4 million (Alzheimer’s Association, 2014). The Author Community of Helping Hands Press is getting involved this month, and hopes to help raise awareness for Alzheimer’s disease.

Staring Nov. 3rd, with Anne Baxter Campbell’s blog post and Sue Badeau’s appearance on blogtalk radio, and finishing on Nov. 25th with Mark Venturini’s blog post, many of the authors in the Helping Hands Press Community will be sharing their personal stories.

Who are the authors, their blogs and what days?

Here is the list:

Nov.3rd-Anne Baxter Campbell- http://pewperspective.blogspot.com/

Nov.4th –Doris Gaines Rapp- http://dorisgainesrapp.blogspot.com/

Nov.5th-Marcia Lee Laycock- https://marcialeelaycock.com/thespur/

Nov. 6th –Ruth L. Snyder- http://ruthlsnyder.com/

Nov. 7th –Sheila Seiler Lagrand- http://sheilalagrand.com/

Nov. 8th –Giovanni Gelati- http://gelatisscoop.blogspot.com/

Nov. 10th –Ruth L. Snyder- http://ruthlsnyder.com/

Nov. 10th –Cindy Noonan- http://www.cindynoonan.com/

Nov. 11th-Sue Badeau- http://suebadeau.webs.com/apps/blog/

Nov. 12th-Peggy Blann Phifer- http://www.whispersinpurple.com/

Nov. 13th-Sandy Sieber- http://pahistorybooks.blogspot.com/

Nov. 13th– Joy Ross Davis- http://joyrossdavis.com/blog/

Nov.14th –Karen Gass- http://www.cottonspice.net/

Nov. 17th –Patti J. Smith- http://gridirongrannyfootballfanatic.blogspot.com/

Nov. 18th-Tracy Krauss- http://www.tracykraussexpressionexpress.com/

Nov.19th –Melanie M. Jeschke- http://melaniejeschke.blogspot.com/

Nov.21st– Andrea J. Graham- http://www.christsglory.com/

Nov.22nd-Linda Wood Rondeau- http://lindarondeau.blogspot.com/

Nov.24th-Diane Huff Pitts- http://dianehuffpitts.com/

Nov.25th –Mark Venturini- http://markventurinijourney.blogspot.com/

 

Travel and What it Does to You

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Hi

I have just returned from a 16 day trip across the Pacific Ocean. Being on open water for that long eventually gives you good sea legs but when you return you find you also have an inner ear that seems to insist that you are still bobbing and rolling along days after you have arrived on dry land.

Returning home also comes with the disorienting feeling that you’ve been away for months instead of days, while the “catching up” adds to the feeling that you really didn’t go anywhere at all. Somewhere in between all of that are the memories.

They cling tHawaian adornment (2)o you, images of tropical jungles and a variety of plant life that is stunning, smells that put you right back in the spot where you bent to sniff that flower, and sounds that make you stop and listen for those brightly coloured birds. Then you realize all of it is now far away and remains only in your mind. But the colours remain vibrant, the sounds crisp and clear.

And then there are the people – the woman you met who is likely making her last voyage on this earth; the tiny lady with exuberant energy who always wore a hat; the woman from India who remembered your name even though she had only met you once over a week ago; the American who kept bumping into you and saying, “oh yeah, you’re the writer;” and the girl from Indonesia whose smile lit up the whole room.

All of it aIao Mntn - Kuka'emoku Valley (14)dds up to an experience that changes you, a space of time that shifts your attitudes and makes you thankful for the life you lead and all that’s in it. I saw fish I could never have imagined existed and the largest Banyan tree in the world that spreads its roots and branches over an entire city block. I felt the steam of a volcano and the rough texture of the land its eruptions create. I laughed at jokes that really only make sense in another language and tried to twist my tongue to make those unfamiliar sounds.

Oh yes, there were a number of “first world problems” – internet access was almost non-existent, the living space was a little cramped and sometimes the coffee wasn’t really hot. But life was made more broad, enriched; opinions were challenged and sensations stimulated.

In short, I joined the ranks of the privileged and traveled. And I am thankful.

“Great are the works of the Lord; they are pondered by all who delight in them” (Psalm 111:2).

 

Writers’ Process Blog Tour

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Welcome to the WRITERS’ PROCESS BLOG TOUR.

Thanks for following from Carolyne Aarsen’s blog.

1. Who are you?

Laycock-MarciaMy name is Marcia Lee Laycock. I am a pastor’s wife and mother of three adult daughters who are all beautiful like their father and talented like their mother. 🙂 I am also the caregiver to two golden retrievers who mostly lie around all day. Oh and a writer/author/novelist/poet/journalist and devotional writer, not necessarily in that order. Above all I am a child of Christ, born somewhere on the road to Mayo, Yukon in 1982. That day changed my life forever.

 

 

2. What are you working on?

At the moment I’m doing a final edit on the second book of a fantasy series, The Ambassadors, which has been releasing in volumes on Amazon as ebooks. The entire first book will release on August 27th and the first volume of Book Two will release on Sept. 4th. I am also writing the third book and doing a course in playwriting with Lucia Frangione, which I am enjoying very much.

 

3. How does your work differ from others of its genre?

My first two novels were contemporary fiction. They both have strong elements of suspense and a touch of romance. I’d say they differ from others in that they are, to quote Mark Buchanan, who has endorsed my work, “grimly real but deeply hopeful.”

 

4. Why do you write what you do?

I can’t not write. I have been doing it since I was very young – my mother used to say she thought I was born with a pencil in my hand because I was always “scribbling something or other.” I have been blessed to have many wonderful teachers and encourager along my journey and really can’t imagine doing anything else as my life’s career. Specifically, I write fiction because I believe that story is important to us all. It keeps us tied together and it keeps us moving forward. My first two novels began with a conversation I had with a woman from a pregnancy care centre. She asked me a question that just wouldn’t go away until I tried to answer it on the pages of those books. I write devotional material because I seem to continually see things in my life and in things/people around me that point to the grace and mercy of Jesus. When I see it I can’t not write it down.

 

5. How does your writing process work?

I am a “seat-of –the-pants writer. I don’t outline until I get into the thick of the story, then I might stop and do a bit of a timeline and sketchy outline. I love that process because it keeps me on the edge of my seat, wondering what’s going to happen. I figure if I’m there my readers will be too, and that keeps them reading. Right now, because I am working on more than one project at once, I do have to try and schedule my time well, setting out time to work on each one. I write mostly in the mornings but sometimes I will find myself at the computer for a good portion of the day. Those are good days.

Click this link to see my books. All are available on Amazon, at Christian bookstores (distributed by Ingram) or by contacting me personally at the email listed.

Now click this link to visit the next author on the tour.

 

 

How a Boy Named Mouse Taught Me to Pray

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sunset prayerLadyhawk. It’s an old film released in 1985. Matthew Broderick, in one of his first film roles, plays a leading part as a young boy, Philippe Gaston, aka, Mouse. The film is a touching love story of mythic proportions, full of medieval scenery, chivalrous knights and beautiful horses. The cinematography is stunning.

But I still think of Ladyhawk as the movie that taught me how to pray. I was a new Christian and had just come across these verses in 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 – “Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

I was especially struck by the phrase, “pray continually.” I was reasonably familiar with the idea of asking God for things. That had been my go-to method on the rare occasions when I thought I needed something from God. But pray continually? I was wondering what that meant exactly, what it would be like to do that, when I watched Ladyhawk and met that boy named Mouse. They called him Mouse because of his ability to get in and out of places through small holes. You see Mouse was a thief. The movie opens with him escaping through the sewer system of a medieval prison. As he is quite literally worming his way through the pipes he prays and bargains with God. He promises that if God gets him out, he’ll never steal again. He ends up in a river – yes, God gets him out – but it isn’t long before he breaks his promise by stealing a man’s money pouch, apologizing to God as he does so. We follow Mouse as he continues to find a way to survive.

And all that time, he is talking to God.

And that’s how I learned what “pray continually,” or “without ceasing,” as the King James version says, really means. God was so real to Mouse that he conversed with him as though He were walking beside him, traveling with him every moment of the day, even as he continued to get into trouble and out again.

I don’t recommend bargaining with God, or apologizing to Him as you disobey Him. But it was Mouse’s faith that impressed me. Even though he was a rather unrepentant thief, his belief in a very real God who could and would help him in spite of all his failings, stirred my heart. And I began to practice what Mouse taught me. I began to talk to Jesus as though he were standing beside me every moment of the day, not just to ask Him for something, but just to talk. Like Mouse, there have even been times when I’ve had to be careful that I wasn’t talking out loud, lest someone think I was a brick or two short of a full load.

That practice, teamed with the other parts of that verse, being thankful and rejoicing always, has brought God close, shown me such stunning answers to prayer that I could barely breath and taught me that Mouse was right. Jesus hears you as clearly as someone who is walking beside you. He will stay with you, even when you fail continually.

For this is God’s will for us all, in Christ Jesus.

 

Go To Your Altars

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by Marcia Lee Laycock

Altar

At a recent writing seminar those attending were challenged to write the last few words we would give to the world before we died. A sobering thought. I’d been thinking a lot about altars lately, since I had been doing a Bible study on the ancient tabernacle and how it relates to us today. The study led us to realize that we are now the temple, the place where the Spirit of God resides on this earth. Another sobering thought.

The Bible study detailed the role of the various altars and furniture used in the tabernacle that was built and carried by the Hebrew people during their time in the wilderness. They were instructed in the construction and placement of the altar of sacrifice, the altar of incense, the table of the bread, the lamp stand and the brazen laver and, most significant of all, the ark of the covenant that sat behind the veil in the Holy of Holies. Each one had a specific purpose. At each altar the priests were to perform specific rites for the atonement of the sins of the nation.

That led me to wonder – if I am a temple, where are my altars? Do I have an altar of sacrifice – that place where I lay down that which is precious to me as an offering to the Lord? I should do so daily, within the sincerity of my heart. Do I have a brazen laver where I wash myself before entering God’s presence? I should do so on my knees, humbled to know that I can proceed into His presence because of the spilling of His Son’s blood that has washed my sins away forever. Do I have an altar of incense, that place from which praise and prayer and worship emanate? Again, it should be a daily practise, erupting from my mind and my mouth like a fountain.

Do I have a table, where the bread, the body of my Lord, is displayed in all its simplicity and glory? Is there a lamp stand, that place that burns with His holy fire that can never be extinguished? I must hold it up high for all to see. And is there an ark in me, a place where the remembrances of God’s faithfulness and holiness are kept? I should cherish them in the depths of my soul, bowing before that mercy seat and acknowledging the forgiveness He has extended to me by His death on that cross.

These altars all require my service, the death of my own agendas and ambitions, the breaking of my pride and a bowing down to His sovereignty.

So these are my few words, words that I would say to myself and to all of us who would be believers in Christ –

Go to Your Altars

the altar of incense, shouting out praise, petitions and songs; the altar of washing, bathing in His mercy, acknowledging His grace; the altar of the lamp stand, feeding the flame of faith as a light to the world; the altar of sacrifice, relinquishing your ambitions, your dreams and your pride. Go to your altars. Lay yourself down.

A Good Cleaning

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Image

It’s that time of year again – time for spring cleaning. We’ve been doing a lot of it lately, and not just in our own home. We’re helping missionary friends get their home ready to be put on the rental market. It’s a big job and when we saw the condition of the house after the last tenants moved out, we despaired of getting it done quickly. But we were thrilled when several people showed up when we called a work bee. They came with rags and mops, rubber gloves and sponges, shovels and rakes, and they set about giving the place a good cleaning.

There was a team assigned to the garage, one inside the house and one outside. Before long the whole area was a hive of activity. I was working with the crew inside so didn’t see what was happening outside until it was almost time to leave. I was stunned when I saw the transformation. When we arrived the yard had been matted with old leaves and grasses, a web of winter mould laying on top. The flower beds were quite ugly, with dead growth carpeting the soil, smothering anything that might have been trying to grow.

Several men had gone to work with rakes and shovels and the result was obvious. I was surprised to even see some green shoots coming up in the lawn. Then a friend pointed out the bright green shoots in the garden – crocuses, tulips and irises were pushing through.

As I bent to examine them it made me think of the work God does in our lives. We sometimes must look as dreary and dead as that yard looked, layered with the leavings of old sin and smothered with the webs of guilt that threaten to smother us. But God is in the business of giving us all a good cleaning.

How thankful we should be that Jesus has cleared all the rubbish away, just as surely as those rakes and shovels cleaned that yard. He did it by his death, the death we will celebrate in only a few short days. It seems odd to say those two words in the same sentence – death and celebrate. His is the only death I know of that is celebrated, by the people who say they love Him. We celebrate it because His death means our release, His suffering means our freedom and His mercy means we will have life everlasting. That’s why we call it Good Friday.

And that’s why we celebrate not just his death but his resurrection.

As Jesus said to his friend, Mary, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25,26).

Mary said yes. Will you?