Embracing the Uncomfortable

This weekend we watched the movie "The Machine Gun Preacher". I will start by saying this movie is not for everyone. Certainly not meant for anyone under 18.  For the pacifists among us the title is probably enough to cause concern; however, if you have never heard of this movie or the man on whom it is based I would challenge you to at least watch a preview. We debated even renting it. A story laced with drugs, sex, alcohol, violence, not our typical viewing choice to say the least but the life of Sam Childers drew us in. In short Sam's story is one of redemption, incredible redemption. God drew Sam out of the depths of drug abuse, crime, and dark violence. He called him out and drew him to South Sudan where he built an orphanage in the heart of a war zone because he felt God had spoken to him. Where Sam runs into controversy is his methods for protecting the children in this area. He is a rough man who will stop short of nothing to rescue these children including the use of guns against opposing forces. The movie and Sam's life are filled with violence. Children killed mercilessly, unthinkable acts of violence carried out towards them and their families. I found myself questioning is this something God would want me to spend my Saturday night watching? Surely some G rated movie would have been a better choice? Do those even exist anymore?
Yet, here it is Monday afternoon and I am still thinking about it. Still thinking about the lengths at which this man risks his life to save children. Still thinking about the unfathomable war zone these children are living in. I am uncomfortable. I am disturbed. I am thankful for both. Too often I think I get caught up in my comfortable life worrying about whether or not I should shop for a new sweater for Christmas. Worrying that I have not found the perfect gift for someone, or that my hair is just not looking right these days. Worrying about what paint to redo my kitchen with or what to defrost to make dinner. I am disturbed but I am thinking. Thinking about the world. Thinking about children and their safety. Thinking about Sam and his controversial approach in South Sudan.
Would God want me to watch this movie?  He watches it in real-time every day. My heart is broken over this hour. He watches prostitutes, drug abusers, criminals, war lords, militia carry out their acts over and over again, everyday. What must He feel like day after day? I don't know what God thinks of Hollywood's portrayal of Sam's life. But I don't see Him being too upset when our hearts are broken by the hurt of innocent people. When we are drawn away from thinking about ourselves and begin to think about others. As I said, this movie is not for everyone. The images graphic, the language explicit, it is disturbing, it makes you feel uncomfortable but for that I am thankful. I think I need to feel a bit more uncomfortable more often.

What's My Manna?

Well today is one of those days. The day that starts off alright and then somehow, as if completely out of your control spirals downward at mach speed. The weather is starting to resemble a deep freeze in true prairie form and I am quickly learning the art of dressing a toddler accordingly. Jake is not a fan but he tolerates my child wrangling and occasionally gets a kick out of the chase. Bundled and ready we headed to our last music class. I think it is safe to say that both of us are going to miss our weekly sing and dance at the local community center. Upon our return home, sleeping babe in arms I tried to open the front door....only to discover the set of keys did not contain the very one I needed. So, back in the car we went to call Tim.

Poor Tim is called on to fix a variety of problems from afar and in true form he called a locksmith. After almost an hour listening to a CBC radio special on crosswords....why I would subject myself to such a listening I do not know......the Lock Surgeon graced me with his presence. With a 30 second flip of a tool (I got to get me one of those) we were in. Fantastic I thought, with such relative ease our problem was solved, and it was.....then came the bill. Oh the bill. Such bills put me in a wonder. Why did I choose to teach when I can earn almost a day of teaching wages in ......30 seconds! Thus started to personal lament of my misfortune. The turn for the self pitying....the feeling of injustice.....the chat with my son about considering the pursuit in a future career of locksmithing (is that even a word?).  How quickly my elation of crossing the threshold of our temporary home was dashed by the request for cash or credit. Had my problem not been solved?

The church we have been attending in Edmonton is going through a sermon series that essentially breaks down the stories of the Old Testament and retells them. I have been loving it. The pastor is a phenomenal story teller and brings these well known stories to life each Sunday. Last Sunday it was the story of the Israelites and Moses. Of their 40 year wander in the desert. What stuck with me was God's provision for them. Shoes and clothes that didn't wear out for 40 years (what parent wouldn't love access to such garments?), 40 years of food and drink in a barren land,  a hope and promise for future generations to enter a land of plenty. Yet, the Israelites were constant complainers. Eating the Manna but wanting more, not wanting to wait, stating they would rather be enslaved that provided for in the desert. Really, under oppressive rule rather than eating the food they wanted. The epitome of fussy eating. Complaining, complaining, complaining.

This got me to thinking, what is my Manna today? Perhaps today's Manna comes in the form of the burly Lock Surgeon employee? The Lord has provided what we needed. A small request and a prompt answer. Perhaps, instead of complaining like the Israelites, failing to see God's provision I can choose to salvage what is left of today. To praise God for big burly Lock Surgeon man and his fancy tool and the gift of mastercard. To see provision in the desert instead of longing for bondage. Thoughts to ponder. Time to find myself a big cup of java and enjoy these quiet napping moments and the warmth of the inside of this house.

Home

It has been awhile since my last post. I have been in Abbotsford visiting family and friends. Jake and I went home. Funny after over 8 years of living elsewhere it still feels like home. Today, as I navigated my way through a very slushy Edmonton I was reminded of yet another home. Of the friends in Saskatoon at home waiting for our return. A text flashes on my cell phone "When are you coming home  for Grandpa's birthday?"....I am reminded of yet another home. Even still with a fussing toddler in the backseat I reassured by saying "We are almost home." How is one person so fortunate to have so many places to call home. So many places filled with people who welcome us, care for us, love us. So many friends and family. So thankful. So many in the world struggle to find one place to call home while others walk alone their heart aching for someone to care for and love them. Today, I am thankful for a place to call home.....make that many places to call home....and loving family and friends to greet us when we arrive.

Peace

It is snowing this morning in Edmonton. The kind of snowfall that requires you to brush your car off twice if you hesitate for a moment after the first brushing. Tim just called, after 45 minutes of driving he is 4 blocks away. It is that kind of a snowy day. Jake and I poked our heads out this morning to watch the snow fall. It was so quiet. The city noise dampened by the falling snow. While our home is in the middle of the city just moments from downtown, to listen you wouldn't know it. So peaceful. My babe has gone down for his morning nap and with the fire on and the coffee brewing the inside of my house is peaceful too. I struck by how blessed I am to live surrounded by peace. Not just in this moment with the snowfall and the sleeping baby, but everyday. The approach of Remembrance Day also serves to remind me of this. A country without war, with access to food, warmth, shelter. The freedom to worship God without persecution. The knowledge that if my son needed medical help it would be there. Peace. It is a wonder that I get so caught up in what I have heard referred to as the first world "whine". That I let my "peace" be disturbed by long line ups at the grocery store, being on hold with the cable company or unexpected traffic. Perhaps I need more snowy days to slow down and remember the triviality of these "stresses" in comparison to what so many others face around the world. Peace, gratitude for peace.

My Other Half

This picture was taken at Jake's first birthday.

It seems as though it has be awhile since my last post. Not for lack of things to be thankful for but more a lack of time to publicly declare them. After a wonderful weekend with a wonderful aunt who facilitated a much needed date night I find myself extremely thankful for my other half.  It has been awhile since this mommy and daddy have been able to go out on our own. While Auntie B watched a little man, who consequently played her as a babysitter and refused to go to bed....Tim planned and executed a wonderful date. Filled with good coffee, a hilarious rendition of "Sleeping Beauty" put on by a local theatre, followed by the most delicious pizza I have had this side of the Atlantic Ocean our date night was a wonderful respite from a sick little man and a great opportunity to reconnect. I am so thankful for the man I have married, the husband he is and the father he has become. I am thankful good entertainment, yummy pizza and the chance to be out and about past 7 o'clock.