30 days. 30 days from tonight, I will be home in Canada.

As the days wind down, I still feel a variety of emotions. I am still very excited about being home with my dearly-loved family; but my heart also hurts a great deal at the thought of leaving my beloved Southern Family.

Yesterday, I continued on my journey of bidding farewell to dear ones whom I may not see again for some time. It was hard, there is no denying that; but I can't help but reflect in gratitude, as I think of the growth I've experienced over this past year. At this time, last year, a transition like the one I'm walking through would have wore me out and destroyed my days, emotionally and spiritually. Yesterday, I feared that this would happen once again, as I bid farewell to my dear friend, Major Leisa Hall. You see, the last time I had to say goodbye to my friend, as she was being moved from Oklahoma City to a new appointment in Florida in 2012, I was wrecked emotionally, physically and spiritually for days and months to follow. My depression deepened, I comforted myself with food, and I wondered where on earth God was in the midst of such hurt and separation.

Not this time, though...not this time.

Saying goodbye to my dear friend was, naturally, very difficult. I shed many tears, as I gave my friend one last hug. I gave myself space to feel the emotions of sadness, I prayed, I found my footing, emotionally, and I walked on to Chorus rehearsal, and on to the rest of my day.

Growth, and the grace of God. That's what I'm experiencing, this time around.

So tonight, my heart is a little heavy, and I am a little anxious about the future; but with God's help, these feelings will not consume me...

"We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.

We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed."  ~ 2 Corinthians 4:7-9

Our theme for this year's Territorial Music Institute is "Give God the Glory," and tonight, as I prepare to lay my head down, I can testify that my ability to walk through these next 30 days in a healthy and whole manner will occur only by the grace and the power of God. He alone has been the One to lead me through my journey thusfar, and I am trusting that He will continue to lead me through the next 30 days of packing, finishing, worshipping, and bidding farewell, among many other things.

Here's to the next 30 days, and here's to the continued faithfulness of God.

Blessings.

""The servants asked him, ‘Do you want us to go and pull them up?’

‘No,’ he answered, ‘because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.’”

Matthew 13:28-30

Not often do I write two entries in one day; but today has been a day filled with lessons to learn, and opportunities to grow. I can't help but share this. 

Today I learned something new. I'm a little embarrassed to admit that, as a girl who grew up in a farming community, I never completely understood why farmers would have "controlled" or "prescribed" fires burning in their fields. I was told a couple weeks ago, and reminded today, of the reason: 

Controlled burns in forests are started and maintained in order to burn away excess brush or growth that could potentially fuel a forest fire. These burns actually prevent forest fires from becoming out of control. 

Now, farmers use controlled burns in order to burn away weeds that have grown among their crops, rather than pulling them up and potentially damaging the crop's growth. Also (this gets me every time I think about it), the ashes from the fire contain potassium and calcium, which can feed nutrients to the soil. 

I was initially told this information in order to encourage me to be patient with the process of identifying and changing the unhealthy thinking patterns and coping mechanisms I've developed over the years; but the person who told me this may not realize (or may very well have realized) that this information immediately brought me to a very familiar story in the Gospel of Matthew. In fact, I'm sure that some of you, my faithful readers, already know exactly which story I'm heading for: The Parable of the Weeds, from Matthew 13:24-30: 

"Jesus told them another parable: 'The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared.

“The owner’s servants came to him and said, ‘Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?’

‘An enemy did this,’ he replied.
“The servants asked him, ‘Do you want us to go and pull them up?’

‘No,’ he answered, ‘because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.’”

For me, this past year has involved a great deal of "burning away weeds." I've had to allow God to burn away so much that has been keeping me from growing into a healthy and whole person: unhealthy habits, negative patterns of thinking about others and about myself, and so much more.

There's nothing lovely about this process, I'm afraid. We often romanticize the concept of "laying our all at the altar," but have we stopped for a moment to realize just what that means? Laying my all at the feet of Jesus meant coming to grips with my sin, with my avoidance, with the things that could separate me from my Heavenly Father, things that could cause a forest fire to burn out of control and destroy me. It meant surrendering control. It meant that I had to come clean, so that Jesus could wash me clean.

Being refined is messy, requires work, and requires a lot of heat.

But oh, the beauty and the freedom that comes when we allow our Savior to do so.

I think, for the first time in a while, I'm beginning to understand the price of holiness. Allowing myself to be refined and to have chaff and weeds burned away, and to have dead branches pruned (I'm becoming more and more intrigued by how many times Jesus talked about gardening and agriculture in order to teach about holiness!), this all requires sacrifice. Holiness requires a lot of letting go of the things that are not good for us, and trusting that our Heavenly Father knows what's best for us.

This process of "controlled burns" and refining has been challenging, in every sense of the word. Some days, I find myself exhausted by the process, and just wish that I could get to the end result, right away. I was reminded today about the need to set these "controlled burns" in motion, to prevent a wild fire from spreading. I must be patient with the process, and trust in the skillful hand of my Savior. When I allow Him to burn away the weeds, and feed me with His Truth, I will grow stronger, more beautiful and healthy than ever before. I am trusting Him to do this.

Tonight, I am holding fast to 1 Peter 1:6-7...
"So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you must endure many trials for a little while. These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold—though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world." 
Blessings.

Beautiful words of encouragement from my home corps in Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island.
​
The grueling task of sorting and packing continues. It has amazed me, over and over, just how much I have accumulated over the past four-and-a-half years. That being said, there is something freeing about being able to simplify and to pair down.

As I was sorting through some papers and bric-brac, I came across more cards from precious folk and prayer supporters. The card pictured above is a card that was given to me by the staff of The Salvation Army Charlottetown Community Church, my home corps where I soldiered, and also where I served as Community Ministries Coordinator, prior to moving to Oklahoma.

As I read the sweet notes from sweet friends and co-workers, my mind was flooded with the memories of those last days spent with my friends and family, before I packed my life into three suitcases, bound for Oklahoma. And in that moment, I noticed the similarity between how I felt the day I received that card, and how I am feeling now, as I prepare to move back home to Canada. I felt many of the same emotions I'm feeling now. See, it was a difficult decision to pack up my life to move to Oklahoma, four-and-a-half years ago. I was incredibly excited to embark on this new adventure; but I was also nervous, a bit anxious, and sad to leave my family and dear friends behind. I was moving to another country, to a state with which I had little familiarity. I was unsure of what was to come, only knowing to put one foot in front of the other.

But I bravely took a step of faith that could only be orchestrated by my Heavenly Father. That step resulted in a four-year adventure. That step resulted in a story of joy, tears, growth and victory, where I became part of a much larger Family of God. That step resulted in the building of beautiful friendships with so many different people. That step resulted in my coming face-to-face with personal and spiritual challenges that I was running away from, previously. That step brought me to where I am, now: walking in victory, taking steps of obedience in accordance with my Father's will for my life, and growing more and more into the woman He created me to be. That step brought forth a testimony that boasts the faithfulness and the goodness of God.

I remember many of the feelings I felt the day I received that card from my precious corps family. In a few short weeks, I will be receiving cards and well-wishes from people who have impacted my life in incredible ways, since I moved to Oklahoma four-and-a-half years ago...and I'm sure I'll be feeling many of those same feelings, much like I am feeling, today. But I am also holding close to my heart, this day, the feeling of victory, and the promise that my Abba is faithful, and He is good, and He is orchestrating my steps toward my home and native land, just as He orchestrated my steps to move here to Oklahoma. Through tears and uncertainty, through joy and laughter, in these last days with my sweet Okie friends and family, I will hold fast to my Father's hand, knowing that He is with me.

Blessings.


This past Friday morning, I was getting ready to go to work. I set my coffee cup on the roof of my car, as I loaded my bags. Distracted by something in my car, I forgot the cup, climbed in, started my car and drove off. It wasn't until I pulled away from the apartment complex, about 100 yards down the drive, that my stomach wrenched, as I reached for my coffee cup that was not in its usual spot, in the cupholder, next to my emergency brake. It hit me: the cup is still on the roof of my car, or, at least I HOPE it's still there!

I pulled my car to a stop, bracing myself for the possible scene of shards of my beloved coffee cup and sweet nectar of coffee all over the ground. I was shocked and delighted, as I hopped out of my car and saw the cup, still filled with coffee, sitting on the roof of my car. Amazing!

It's funny how we care so deeply for the little things in our day-to-day life. I was reminded by my Corps Officer, Major Paul, last week, of how much God cares for us, and that He wants us to seek Him, in prayer, even for the small things that may seem insignificant to us.

Now, would I have survived the loss of a coffee cup? Of course. But the thing is, God used that as a perfect opportunity to remind me of how He provides. Seeing that coffee cup resting unscathed on the roof of my car reminded me of the extent of God's provision, from the incredibly huge to the incredibly small. I was taken directly to Matthew 6:25-34:

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

As I continue to make steps toward my home and native land, and as I disturb the familiar by venturing to the unfamiliar, I must trust my Heavenly Father to provide, as I walk in obedience. Little things like a spared coffee cup remind me that He can be trusted. As the song says, "O, for grace to trust Him more!"

So onward I venture, one obedient step at a time. Please keep me in your prayers, as I do so.

Blessings.

I hope to one day have a print with this quote
by Anaïs Nin, to hang on my wall.
I am so thankful for the person
who gave me these words of wisdom to cling to. 

Today has been a day where God has spoken to me in so many ways, through different people, and when I come to put "pen to paper," it feels as though a million ideas are running through my head. So dear reader, stick with me. This post may take a couple of turns! 

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about letting go, and embracing the change that is about to happen in, now, 50 sleeps. If I'm honest, I've had a really hard time with embracing the anticipated change, and today, I discovered part of why I'm experiencing this hesitancy. I'm fearful of what is unknown. Right now, I know the familiarity and the comfort of where I am, right here, and right now. I have a beautiful support system of loving people, a loving church family. I'm seeking out counsel and support for many personal challenges that I'm facing head-on. 

But today, I was challenged to think of the unfamiliar that I'm about to face in a different way. I have always seen the unfamiliar as scary. Unknown. When I think of unfamiliar things, skills I've never tried, even foods I've never tried, the association has always been negative. Today, I was challenged to consider the possibility that there could be a positive association with the unfamiliar. Can you believe it? I've never been able to make that kind of association with the unfamiliar. Could it be, could it possibly be, that there could be an excitement that comes with the unfamiliar and the unknown? Could it be that there are more opportunities for further growth, more opportunities for deeper support systems to develop, more opportunities for new and beautiful relationships, more opportunities for ministry, that come with this next unfamiliar step, as I journey back home? 

What's really beautiful, and maybe even a little uneasy to me - because it is a bit foreign to me -  is that I get to choose, even purpose (as a dear friend once put it) to anticipate this next chapter with excitement and joy, rather than fear and dread. It doesn't mean that I'll never feel fear or perhaps even dread when I think about having to start fresh in a new chapter...but I don't have to stay there. I can choose. I can purpose to look ahead with anticipation and wide-eyed wonder at just what God has in store around the corner. 

Oh, but friends, I can't do this in my own power. This type of purposing is not something I can do in my own power, at all. I need the help of my Abba. I need to stay so very close to Him. As I will be teaching my kids this week in our Summer School of Music, I need the Lord to "tune my ears to hear His Voice." 

Today, as I was driving to an appointment, I was listening to a devotional on this fab little prayer app that my friend recommended I try. The Scripture discussed was Matthew 10:1-7:

Jesus called his twelve disciples together and gave them authority to cast out evil spirits and to heal every kind of disease and illness. Here are the names of the twelve apostles:

first, Simon (also called Peter),
then Andrew (Peter’s brother),
James (son of Zebedee),
John (James’s brother),

Philip,

Bartholomew,
Thomas,
Matthew (the tax collector),
James (son of Alphaeus),
Thaddaeus,
 Simon (the zealot),
Judas Iscariot (who later betrayed him).
Jesus sent out the twelve apostles with these instructions: “Don’t go to the Gentiles or the Samaritans, but only to the people of Israel—God’s lost sheep. Go and announce to them that the Kingdom of Heaven is near.
The speaker asked the listener to consider what it is like to hear people dear to you call your name. I was then prompted to meditate on how it would feel to hear our Savior call our name. I had never really considered that, before, because I've never actually heard God speak to me in an audible voice. But when I thought about how it would feel to hear Him call me by name...there is something about that that absolutely stirs my soul, and makes me want to sit at His feet. Because, when He calls my name, Scripture tells us in Isaiah 43:1 that God says, "...you are mine." I will need to sit with that, just a little longer. But I will go on.

The speaker then encouraged the listener to take a moment, and listen for just what God may be calling us to. So I asked Him, "God, what are You calling me to, right here, right now?" The answer was simply one word: Abide.

I shook my head for a second, and thought, "O...kay? What on earth does that mean?"

I did what I've been doing a lot of lately: I went to my dictionary and looked up the word Abide. And if you're silently judging me for having to look it up, right now, go ahead and give me a definition, off the top of your head...Uh-huh. That's what I thought. Not as easy as we thought it was.

So, abide is defined this way: "To accept or bear; to stay or live somewhere; to remain or continue."

But there's a little more to this definition: "To wait for; to endure without yielding; to bear patiently; to accept without objection."

And the one which really grabbed my attention: "To acquiesce in (submit, comply or accept)."

That very simple word has so much meaning for me. See, abiding, for me, is so much more than remaining, or enduring without yielding, or bearing patiently; for me, abiding means submitting, accepting without objection.
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways, submit to him, and he will make your paths straight." -Proverbs 3:5-6

For me, abiding involves my ears and heart being tuned to hear God's Voice, and staying close to His heart and mind through the reading of His Word, and through communication with Him through prayer. This type of abiding will allow me to hear when He is speaking, when He is calling my name, and when He tells me what to do next, when to take the next step, I can respond by doing just that, nothing more, and certainly nothing less. I can disrupt the familiar, and I can walk forward into the unfamiliar, not with fear and dread, but with anticipation and joy, because I am confident that my Savior is leading the way.

I shared on Facebook this afternoon that God is calling me, "...out of the bud, to take steps, one at a time, so that I will blossom into a woman who reflects her Father's image." The words in the photo above were given to me today to consider. I am holding tightly to this calling, from God, in this moment, to abide. For today, and for tomorrow, and for the next day, I am purposing to follow this calling, out of the bud, taking steps, as He directs, as He calls my name, so that I will continue to blossom. Even when it's hard. Even when it hurts. But also, even when it causes me joy, and to sing, and to dance, because it's the work of my faithful Abba.

Here's to disrupting the familiar, and to blossoming, one obedient step at a time.

Blessings.