Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Melting Point

I am humbled to the point of feeling like I'm going to melt into the floor. The fact that God uses me just as I am completely overwhelms me. The random comments people make about recognizing Christ in me boggles my mind, but also makes me so grateful. I'm beginning to understand - it's not me, but Christ who lives in me. And through this, how much more am I drawn to the Father, straining to hear Him in the midst of the noise of this world, of my own mind. This is when true priorities take over and time spent in the presence of the Father is desired and taken before all else. As the noise fades into the background, the Father's voice is heard clearly, "I love you."

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Communion





















I checked my voicemail when I got home today, and had a message from somebody at my church. She asked if I was going to the Tenebrae service tomorrow night and if I was if I would be interested in helping serve Communion.

I love the sacrament of Communion. I am humbled by the very word. It became more meaningful to me while I was going to Bible College. I remember one year, probably my 3rd year, we were all sitting in the cafeteria sharing Communion at each table. That was the first time I had led anyone in Communion and I was honored to do so.

I remember those words: "The Lord Jesus, on the night He was betrayed, took bread, and when He had given thanks He broke it and said, 'This is my body, which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.' The same way He took the cup saying, 'This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this whenever you drink it in remembrance of me.' For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until He comes."

Thank You Lord for Your sacrifice. May we honor You through the Sacrament of Communion.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Me & Haiti

I sit here in the peaceful silence; just a few clocks ticking and a few vehicles driving by on the streets below. It is strange sitting here like this, knowing the disaster that has fallen upon Haiti. Thousands are dead, and thousands injured. I have seen coverage of it on the news, and it has moved me, but I did not really grasp the intensity of it until I thought of how the same tragedy would look here. It has been said that the death toll (50,000 as of 12 hours ago) could reach 200,000. That is more than the population of Abbotsford. I cannot imagine that this place where I have spent the majority of my life could cease to exist in a matter of 30 seconds. I cannot imagine the cries of pain coming out from underneath piles of debris. I cannot imagine being caught under that debris, crying out, not knowing if anyone will be able to get me out. I cannot imagine losing my family and friends just like that. I cannot imagine the cries of agony and terror of parents who have lost their children. I see bits and pieces of people's reactions on tv, but there would be nothing like living through it myself. My heart aches for the people of Haiti, and for people who had/have loved ones in Haiti. I cannot bring myself to turn on the tv, to see the devastation. It would be too overwhelming right now. Instead, I sit here, wondering what I can do to be involved in a hands-on environment. There must be something...