Picture Perfect...Sometimes.

I just spent the past two days trying to amend my blogpage. I had written a bit on some humourous happenings but somehow it got posted twice. This drove me batty! It irritated me to no end to have a duplicate entry on my blog and I wasn't able to rectify it. It was like a picture hanging slightly slanted on the wall or open cupboard drawers in the kitchen, it had to be straightened, it had to be closed.

I'm not anal in all areas, only certain things bug me. Like tags sticking out of shirt collars and calendars that don't show the right month. Incorrect spelling and grammar on my part grates my nerves, but I can handle it from others...most times. Can one be a part-time perfectionist? By the clutter that gathers on my bedroom shelves and the dust that rests on every ledge, I vote 'yes'.

My dad is the same way. He can leave his clothes and towel stranded and smelly on the bathroom floor and the evidence of his latest sandwich making venture all over the kitchen counter, but the garage is cleaned and organized every Saturday. Painting with dad takes perfectionism to a whole new level. Lines must be clean, watch the ceilings, and don't skimp on the paint...I must have heard these guidelines a thousand times. Apparently my brother Dan is even worse!

Where do these perfectionist tendancies come from?

"Perfection is fundamental to God's character. Because he is perfect, he could only make a perfect creation. Creation has changed..., but in the beginning it was just right! God said, it was good. It was perfect." (The Stranger, John R. Cross)

Seems I was doomed from the get-go. Not only do I have an earthly father who is a partial perfectionist, I have a heavenly One is completely perfect. The gene of perfectionism is attached to my physical and spiritual DNA. Clearly, it doesn't extend to all areas of my life or character, but this trait has something to do with the fact that I'm made in the image of the Perfect One. If a displaced picture or incorrect calendar bother me, how must God feel as He watches this distorted world? When He looks upon me? How much longer Lord, will You hold off and resist the urge to straighten things up and clean up shop for good?

Beyond Assumption

Never assume anything. Never underestimate what God is doing. A team of teens from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan are returning to the plains today after eight extraordinary days in Bolivia. Some had never been beyond the sprawling skies of their own province until they boarded the plane just over a week ago. This afternoon they will fly over continents to arrive in Canada again, hopefully changed and impacted by their experience.

Over the week, I assumed that most of them had not been overly impacted or spiritually moved. My impression as I watched them interact and mingle with each other and our own Bolivian youth was that they were here to have fun and seek adventure. I pulled out stickers labelled "superficial" and I slapped them on several foreheads. Instead, it was my evaluation that fell flat and proved shallow.

I fled the farewells that will be happening in a few hours, but I was there last night as 23 of us sat down and delved into the depths of the past 8 days. I was moved by what several of these young people had to stay. Along with some of the other leaders, I recognized that I had stereotyped a number of these adolescents and categorized them inappropriately. One young man made a comment that struck me profoundly. Speaking of the street kids and of the Nacer homes he said something like this, "I don't get it. I saw these kids on the streets, living hard lives, and I wondered why they stayed there when there are places like Nacer that they could run to...and then I realized that we're the same way."

We are the same way. Street kids prefer the streets because that is what they know. The lime jugglers, flame throwers, squeegie kids, and glue sniffers are their family. The canals and sidewalks are their domain. The freedom from restrictions and authority beckons insistently and unceasingly. Our homes offer a sense of normalcy and regularity. They provide beds, clothing, and food. Sounds like a good deal, and yet the allure of city avenues and constant traffic draws kid after kid back into it's lair.

So often we lie in our own dismal dens of fleshly desires and selfish demands. Self-pity is having a party and we just can't turn down the invitation. We opt to wander the streets of egocentricity and sleep on the cement of self sufficiency. We juggle thoughts of indignation and resentment, tossing up justifications for all to see. We've sniffed the vapours of our own foolishness for so long that the wisdom of seeking refuge and security doesn't even register.

My assumption about these teenagers was a poor one. God is always at work in all of us, at every age. Last night, one young man spoke briefly but more deeply than he may have realized. Thanks for coming Saskatchewan team! Forgive me for not saying goodbye. Keep on being impacted and being an impact for the kingdom. Don't let anyone look down on you for being young, not even a fellow Canadian who underestimated the potential and the character of some unforgettable highschoolers.

Bovines and Beer

Whilst I flounder in obscurity over many things, laughter still finds it's entrance. Ironically, God has matched me up with a housemate who lives in the same dry place where I seem to spend a lot of my time these days. We are two women who love their Lord intensely, but at present, feel as if they have been cut off from His
affections. Still, we are devoted to the One who stole our heart and soul, determined to obey even if it kills us.

As our spirits dehydrate in the desert of doubt and disillusion, we do encounter oasis' of amusement to relieve us from time to time. The most recent source of refreshment came from bovines and beer. A few days ago, we were discussing the rarities of Bolivia. Particularly, we were commenting on the fact that the corner bookstore sells cerveza. As we amused ourselves with this oddity, I looked out the window and said,"Alison, there is a large cow standing at our door." To assure myself that this was no mirage, I took some footage of the beast, which I would post if I knew how.

The desert, or the "dark night" as Manning defines it, "is a very real place, as anyone who has been there will tell you"....it is "marked by dryness, barrenness, desolation, and a profound sense of God's absence. The dark night is an indispensable stage of spiritual growth..."

If I could, I'd take the red-eye out of this dark night and fly to a place a little more comfortable and familiar. In fact, when my mom told me how much I was getting back in taxes, I thought,"Hmm, enough to get me home and then some!" Amidst my musings, a verse came to mind,

"Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colours. So, don't try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do it's work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way." James 1:2-4

Thankfully, my dark night is marked with moments of hilarity, but that doesn't change my Houdini tendancies. I face a sand dune of a decision; will I scale this mountain of blazing granules or balk and flee for familiar shores? If the restlessness of the dark night or the strength sapping desert is what I need to endure for development and growth, then switch off the lights and turn up the heat. This weary wanderer has no desire to be a spiritual runt.

Peace Like a River

The mountains melt like wax before the Lord and yet I come before Him unmoved day after day.
The earth is set on it's foundations by You, it can never be moved, and what will be, will be.
Nothing can alter what you have ordained, and yet I can do so much to put into motion your ordinances.
Families of nations will ascribe to You glory and strength that is Your due, but right now I think I'm due my family and my nation.
You guard the lives of those who are faithful, but at the moment I wonder how faithful I am.
Shedder of light and joy in the hearts of the righteous, why is mine so sad?
Still, I praise You, because you are worthy and with me.
In the midst of sadness, I sense absurd peace.
As I nurse a hurting heart, it is well with my soul.