Whom Shall I Fear? (free printable)

Posted on April 26, 2012 by melissafed

A modified Mother Theresa quote

Twice since we have been in youth ministry our names have come up in criminal investigations.

The best story?

Six months after we bought our first home (in a neighborhood mostly occupied by seniors) a cluster of marijuana plants was found behind our mailboxes. Naturally, the young man (who wears a toque year round, has long hair and a beard) has a huge crop growing in his basement. Adding to the suspicion, was the fact that at that point in our ministry there was many groups of young men in plaid shirts staying with us with giant trailers in the driveway – what else could they be hauling but shipments of weed across the border? There was also boats and strange vehicles coming and going and loud raucous ‘parties’ in our basement. Little did they know that it was Christian rock bands visiting the church and hauling music equipment, games of four on the couch and boats in preparation for camp. None of it was drug induced.

It was good for a laugh back then, that phone call informing us that our names had come up in the investigation. The drug abuse prevention specialist and the youth pastor: the usual suspects.

Now though, I sense it as a warning of things to come. People in this world tend to think the worst of each other. Some of the very best people I know, who in certain situations have acted with the utmost integrity have still been dragged through the mud. It is junk. It makes me crazy.

Equally as dangerous and toxic though, is how sometimes there is a level of idol worship of people in leadership. That is, sometimes people think you are better than you are. Sometimes it messes with your head.

Both are equally false. Trusting either opinion of you will make you crazy. Your identity cannot lay outside of yourself, in anything as easily corrupted as the mind of another.

Your reputation this side of heaven will never be truth. Thankfully the one who judges our hearts knows our intent. Knows our service in the secret place. Knows the whole of the story, knows what you faced to bring you to this day.

So remember, even if you are battered on all sides, GREATER IS HE, whom shall you fear?

Shake it off, your treasures and identity are stored in a much safer place.

Country Chronicles: Spr-ummer

Posted on April 23, 2012 by melissafed

Turns out that we don’t get spring here at Switchback Ranch. We get “w-ring” in which it is like spring: it warms up, the snow melts, everything gets sloppy. But unlike spring in town, it is still possible that we could get snow. It is sort of miserable. Two days ago, the fog rolled up and sent itself packing.

And then YESTERDAY? SPR-UMMER arrived. IT IS THE BEST. And it won’t really end now until September. You see it doesn’t get terribly hot up here, not like in town. We just get this glorious 25-28 degrees celsius. It is the season of having too much fun outside and loosing track of time, of eating on the deck, of long-awaited projects. It is wonderful.

We are back in the sandbox:

(O has his first short hair of his life…it is KILLING me. Why does he look 12? Mercy.)

The hose is out:

The scooters are scooting:

The chalk is arting:

The flowers are coming up (and it would appear that all my end-of-season-on-sale planting survived! Yay blueberries, grapes, rhubarb, lavender)

In other news: Sam is staying. He is such a sweet dog and we all love him. But. How scary are these photos? He loves to hunt sparks from the campfires. It is the only thing he seems to have any violent streak about. If this beast doesn’t look like the thing of nightmares though, I don’t know what does.

Usually he looks like this and thinks he is a lap dog. His other favorite things are chasing Joel on dirt bikes, going for hikes, shedding and making Abby growl. His tongue didn’t used to seem so huge before Sprummer arrived. He prefers Wring….easier on a Pesky Shepherd (I tried to teach O about dog breeds, he miss heard me and starting calling Sam the Pesky Shepherd…it seems appropriate).

AMAZING how a little bit of sun changes EVERYTHING. Over-spiritualize much Melissa Ann? That was just a raging case of cabin fever and nothing treats that faster than some sprummer sun, an impromptu road trip (to Coldplay with friends no less), and a lost day planner (which means I have no idea what I am supposed to be doing, so I’m just not doing it…it is very therapeutic).

Thanks friends! What fun! Going to miss you somethings fierce.

Marriage Letters: I trust you because..

Posted on April 16, 2012 by melissafed

Participating in a letter writing challenge at “the Run A Muck”…”because we believe that when we bless our own marriages, we bless the marriages of others. When you go hard after your marriage, I’m encouraged to go after mine”. Hope this letter serves to inspire you to fight for yours.

This week the challenge is on the concept of ‘trust’.

Dear Joel,

The truth of the matter is, that I have done most everything in my life for only one year. It started when I was five. Highland dance, ballet, figure skating, softball, jogging, rowing, flute (ok, that was three years), choir, musicals, volleyball…I could go on. Basically, I am a quitter.

So naturally the thing I admire most about you is your steadfastness. The way you stand solid in your love and have always made me feel so dreadfully secure. Though I must confess sometimes I don’t believe it. Because seriously, how do you do that thing where you just never quit stuff? I don’t get it. If I was in charge around here we would have quit everything…And I mean everything. We would’ve started things too I am sure. Exciting things, lots of them. It would be fantastic. And yet.

You keep showing me the fruit of the long haul. Of commitment. Of perseverance. You say that you cannot grow anything good without time. That longevity matters. Thirteen years at one church. Nearly fourteen years of marriage. I am starting to believe you.

I used to think that your steadfastness marked a lack of passion, a lack of the truest love. Now I know better. Fidelity takes a heck of a lot more passion than the alternative.

I trust you because the fact that my heart beats new and fresh, yours has always beat a single beat. A rhythm of faithful.

And somehow? When we became one? My heart started keeping your rhythm.

I hope you can hear it….it beats for only you.

Yours.

Meliss

Mother Letter: To Melissa…A Letter from your wiser self

Posted on April 14, 2012 by melissafed

Dear Meliss,

Each afternoon when you pick O up from school you ask him about his day. You ask him what he did, sure, but mostly you wait to ask the central question “O, tell me, how did you bring light and love to school today?”. And inevitably he tells you how he shared something in the castle, helped a friend who got hurt, did his work when asked. You don’t ask for more than that, you don’t ask the world of him, only that he make the world a little brighter. We celebrate the small victories together

It is enough.

I wonder mamma…what if that was all you asked of yourself at the end of the day? Did you bring hope and peace to your home? A little bit of light? Make a memory? Did you notice something beautiful? Teach them how to see it? Did you show them grace? Teach them how to receive it?

Or did you only notice what you didn’t do?

I know you aren’t the mamma that you had hoped to be. But I gotta tell you, you probably aren’t as bad as you think you are either. And other mammas probably aren’t as great as you think they are. You need to ease up woman. Every time you let defeat win, you teach your children that you are a liar, that the ‘Overcomer’ is not living in you.

I know you are tired. It has been a week hasn’t it? This motherhood thing is so much more than you ever thought it would be. “More” in every. single. way. More energy than you thought you had. More taxing than you thought possible. More rewarding than anything else you have ever done..

You know those moments? When you suddenly feel like you are having an out-of-body experience? When the world slows in love and you sit back and watch your own life and it is MORE than you thought it could be. When Joel is in the midst with the kids. Or when they both crawl quietly in your lap. When you breathe deep of their hair and read books together and the world turns into a rose-coloured television ad? Those moments happen because you are moving slow enough to let it. They happen because you allow the children time to do it. They happen because your expectations are quiet. It happens because they are the moments of Love and Light, not pressure and expectation.

Take it easy will you?
With love from,

Your much wiser self

PS: Also, whatever you do…DO NOT forget that moment this week after you and the kids spent some time with the new beast on the deck and he shed his winter coat all over you. You said to the kids “we will have to change when we go in! Sam covered us in hair”. Your boy? Responded “YES…lets get naked just how I like it”. Or when the little girl, shouted from the basement in her ‘one of a kind accent’ that most cannot understand. But that YOU, YOU, understand every utterance she makes.

How To Crawl Out from Under A Rock

Posted on April 9, 2012 by melissafed

I’ve been living under a rock. Feeling the weight of the whole world and feeling tired and misshapen. I’ve been feeling my sins heavy, my flesh weak, my body hunched with the weight of my own failures. I’ve not been feeling like myself.

Or more precisely, I’ve been feeling too much like myself.

BUT. When that stone rolls? It rolls off of us too and we stand straighter. We are children of the resurrection. I grab His hand, jab my finger in the scar, wanting to be sure. I have a tendency to crawl back under the rock, to turn from the mirror and forget what triumph looks like. To fall back into old habits…they die ugly death too. To hunch to the weight of sin, is to not believe his scars. I want a back-bone straitened by the power of One. I’ve seen him do it. He can.

This story isn’t quite over I know. Sometimes this old world will chase you back under that stone. Sometimes you (or others) will try to chain you back down. The trumpets are blaring victory, but the enemy has not quite waved a flag.

But. Days ago we were sharing in the death, broken with the weight of the world. Today we share in His rising. Today, when voices whisper failure, or sinner, we choose to hear a louder voice that says “Crawl out from under that rock child, you don’t live there anymore. I don’t live there anymore. Follow me. WE are heading in the opposite direction from that dark place and heading into the clear light of day. Leaving that shroud of death in the dust. I will just keep asking you over and over, DO YOU LOVE ME? ”

We people of the resurrection? We keep shouting YES. And the rocks crumble in our path.

Standing in the power of resurrection and giving thanks for:

692) Overhearing my incredible niece explaining the role that the asthenosphere plays in earthquakes. So thankful for the community around my kids. THANK YOU CASE-OF….I mean KAY-ZA BEAR!

693) For a wedding that reminds me of Ecc 9:7-…a biblical mandate I find easy to live.

694) The adorable voices waking in a hotel room and whispering…”There is a chocolate on my bed! He found us here!’

695) Road trips.

696) Coming home early.

697) Puzzle day

698) Snow almost melted

699) Seeing ALL of my nieces and nephews the last five days!

Because its true…you can’t do it all

Posted on April 4, 2012 by melissafed

In the morning now, when the house is quiet, and the lists are made I feel like I could do it…all of it.

By three pm today I will know that I cannot and I will sit exhausted and think about all the things I missed, forgot, could have done better. THESE DAYS ARE THE LONG ONES. The ones we are sure that God mixed up our life with someone else. That this hand that we’ve been dealt would be better played by another. I am weak today and broken and greater purposes (like motherhood) cannot possibly include me.

But. Jesus your strength is made perfect in my weakness and so I take it. Today? I take the children with tempers that flare, the events I don’t plan in time, the meetings I forget, the bills left unpaid, the uncertainties and the way I can’t keep it together.

I take the sudden stops, false starts, wasted passion. I admit that domesticity is a full-time job, and I cannot keep up with the Jones if I am going to work too. I cannot be the fun socialite, the team leader, the ministry guru, the mother I want to be…not all at once.

This Passion week…YOU are reminding…again…for the 1000 time. I want the whole of YOU and so much less of me. I breathe deep of that truth today and extend compassion over the expectations I have of myself.

How you doing this week mamma? Be gentle with yourself will you?

Need some encouragement?

Read this:

Amber on Shame and Motherhood…If I could write exactly what I am feeling today? This is what I would write. The woman is seriously gifted.

Emily on Dwelling in each moment Oh yes…Reminder about the priorities I really want to set

Linking with:

Linking with: The Wellspring

Painting Prose

and

Marriage Letters: Serving Together

Posted on April 1, 2012 by melissafed

This week the challenge is on the concept of ‘serving together’.

Dear Joel,

Mercy and marvel. It is a testament to the grace of God in a marriage, that we survived our first few years. And by survived, I don’t mean that we didn’t get a divorce (though I guess that could be considered miraculous too). No I mean actual survival…neither one of us died. Yeesh. What a ride. I knew what I was getting into when I married you. While I thought you were going to be a teacher I also knew you had visions. I vowed it, right there on our wedding day, I flat-out said that I would support your visions and dreams and do all I could to make them real. I just couldn’t have known how many you would have, how big they would be, that they would lead to SUCH challenging and interesting adventure. These steps have taken me so far out of my comfort zone, to the end of the rope.

Turns out that is where Jesus lives. The other side of the end of myself.

Serving with you has been the best and worst part of our marriage. We build well together. I am the nitty-gritty, the small and tiny, to your big and beautiful plans. It’s all I see. The small pieces. You meanwhile see the biggest picture, and don’t notice if the small are there or not. At least back in the beginning. Logistics are old hat to you now….nothing gets left out. But when we began, I was chasing after your vision with a one hundred point map. We drove each other wild.

We also fell wildly in love.

But not in the way the world falls in love. No not that. I saw your integrity lived out plain. You saw my jagged edges raw. You started calling me GI Jane for the way I kept throwing myself in harm’s way. It was an adventure to say the least. In our first six years of marriage, stress had shown every crack we bare. We learned that the truest love is looking out the same direction, not always just staring at each other. We learned that one vision keeps you going the same way, even if you don’t always arrive at the same time. Since then? It has been a struggle to maintain that tension. Some seasons you have stared off into the distance and I felt left behind. Other times I stared too intently at you and dared you to look away, wanting to be the whole of your vision and I found I didn’t like it…I lost interest in you. Sometimes we’ve struggled to keep one vision between us…neither one catching fire and going out alone. It looks different now, the way I had to pull back my reigns. To nestle quiet with the kids. It has been an extraordinary gift to both of us. The way God filled the gaps for us in ministry. The way serving together looks much more like making a home now. The way I was delighted to find I didn’t miss the other things too much. That serving in our home and when youth come over, living family and Jesus-chasing well before them is plenty for me. More than, some days. The vision though, OUR whole life for ONE single purpose remains just as true now.

I am pretty sure there is no one else on earth who would have a vision big enough to capture my imagination. And for all my bluster and opposition I hope you always know that truth (you just scare me sometimes…and by now you must know that my fear is always dressed for the corner of a roof). I would follow your dream to the dark side of the moon if you asked me too…18 years later I believe more than ever that you are the man who could take us there.

Ever thankful to be serving with you;

Yours.

Meliss

Happy Saturday!

Posted on March 31, 2012 by melissafed

This morning I am:

Thinking this is fun.

Reading this. Amazing:

Planning for my favorite night of the year. Let me know if you want to join us…March vanished on me so expect a call from me this weekend if you’ve mentioned wanting to be a part of Generations Night.

Still trying to decide if we should keep the odd couple together. What is your vote?

Dreadfully happy to have a day of no responsibility stretching out before us. I’ve already big plans for a nap later. How are you spending today?

Gift

Posted on March 29, 2012 by melissafed

I find myself clinging to them this week. Holding too close and trying to absorb them back into myself. They seem too big. They do things like go to school and have reasonable conversations and go on carnival rides unaccompanied. Yesterday as I watched them play at the school my breath caught in my throat and I had this urge to slow the earth and trap the moment. The grass seemed greener, from the days of rain, and the sky bluer than usual as it was the first we’ve seen in days, there was a breath of wind blowing that made it a perfect day. I didn’t have my camera but I still need to capture it.

I watched little Miss Cautious stand at the top of the hill and then measure her steps so that she didn’t get going too fast. I remembered how I didn’t ever need to gate my stairs because she would call for me and wait at the top until I would come to her. The day her feet were sure she took her first step…months later than her brother. I consider how time is flying and I think about who she will be and what this temperament might mean for her. I prepare myself already to help her be bold in relationship, to take risk, to let loose, to embrace adventure. Her blond ringlets glint in the March sun while her life stretches out before her in that grassy field and I think that once her feet are sure they will not turn right or left, she is a child of a single mind. Her cautious nature is rivaled only by her tenacity.

I watch little Mr. Headlong as he catapults himself down the hill, sure-footed and fleet. He runs far and farther and little sister who won’t let him be more than 10 feet from her these days gets nervous and calls to him across the field and her voice echoes back and they run into each others arms and fall in hysterics both laughing too hard to get back up. He brushes cheek, gentle. He tells killer jokes these days and he loves to makes us laugh. He tells his sister that he loves her and misses her when she isn’t ‘by his side’. I think about who he will be too and then suddenly stop…

Even daydreaming about tomorrow takes away something from today.

And today is good and I’m relishing every moment…it is Gift.

Dear Church: A love letter to the body and the bride (I couldn’t make one metaphor stick)

Posted on March 27, 2012 by melissafed

Beloved Bride,

I watched you tonight. I sat in the car with sleeping littles while you passed Hope Centre windows en route to family dinner.

There goes that girl I met after she attended camp for the first time. I remember hugging her the week after her mother died. I remember watching her grow into this beautiful servant hearted woman, amazing leader.

There goes one of our seniors. Her grandchildren brought her back for bigger and better once. She put a clown costume on and fearlessly came onto stage, winning the team prize for best trade.

When the kids wake up and I walk in and I am greeted by the children from two of my favorite families. I feel the warmth of community deep and strong.

Later I will stand in the back of sanctuary and listen to you sing. I feel so in love with you that I cannot breath. There are young men and women who I have watched grow from angry or troubled teens. I see the anorexics healed. The anxious soothed. The prideful humbled. There on stage the kids I watched grow into these marvelous, wise and gifted parts of our body. There are people who love on my kids. People who serve with my husband. People that bring us food when babies are born. The ones that pray for us. It is too much for my clumsy mind…this lame blog.

But. Its been a ride these last years hasn’t it? Sometimes I’ve felt we’ve been more like a battered woman than a spotless bride. The layoffs, departures, conflict, drama. We’ve lost some dear ones and we still feel those phantom limbs just below the knee cap. Sometimes it aches. There have been transplants too and we are waiting to see if we can weight bare on them or not. There has been healing but we still limp. We’ve donated our kidneys to other churches, sliced off a piece of our liver to grow somewhere else.

My brother-in-law calls his wife ‘the bride’; always. It was when I knew I was going to like him. He calls her that no matter what. 20 years later, after everything he knows of her, he chooses to think of her as spotless bride.

Can we do the same? Can we look through the lens of what Jesus is doing in all of us, how He sees us? Can we trust that there is a method in this sometimes madness? Can we believe really deeply that devotion and dedication are hard; perhaps the hardest things. We are a terribly broken bunch, I have to tell you it is the whole point of the cross; of this church. Can we REALLY believe that it is what we do with our sins and missteps that shows how deep Grace has drilled? Do we believe that he is ABLE to be glorified in this? In spite of this? In spite all the ways we, the church, do the wrong things with right intentions or the right things with the wrong intentions. All the times we act without prayer or speak without grace. All the violations I’ve imposed on others by my self-righteousness and lack of love. All the times we’ve glossed over wounds in others rather than face them. All the times we’ve not pursued His peace with fervency. I know it goes so much deeper than all that…

We get things wrong. We are trying to get it right. It is the process of working out our faith and learning to walk in humility. No, we’ll likely never get it all right…but in the baby steps to righteousness may we make reverence, humility, love, grace and peace our footholds.

Still, I ask for your forgiveness in advance.

Even my baby steps have a tendency to step on toes.

But still. This love for you rages.

Melissa

Linking with: The Wellspring
and: