You're Richer Than You Think!

Lately I'm struck by my need to accept what's already mine.


Grace.

Forgiveness.

Love.

"You are familiar with the generosity of our Master, Jesus Christ. Rich as he was, he gave it all away for us—in one stroke he became poor and we became rich." 2 Corinthians 8:9

if life had a speed limit....

...would I obey it?

probably not.

When I first started driving I could NOT drive above 30km. Well. I probably could have, I was just afraid.

Thanks to some very patient driving tutors, I improved. And before long I could comfortably do the speed limit. Eventually I even drove on the highway. My family always joked about how we had to plan to leave 10 minutes earlier if I was driving because I insisted on driving the speed limit.

Since I've had my license I've done quite a bit of driving. I drive everyday, often for a couple hours. Dropping people off, picking people up, dropping off prescriptions, picking up milk.

Over this past year it has become easier and easier to do the speed limit...and then to push it a little. Sometimes I'm not paying attention and I speed. Sometimes I AM paying attention...and I speed. I'm not talking " The Fast and the Furious" speeding, but more than 110km.

Here's my point: Life's like that too.

I speed.

Sometimes by accident-I forget to check the internal speedometer. I take my eyes off the prize. I forget to "seek first...".

Sometimes on purpose-I push my limits. I feel like I need to push it. Life gets busy. I choose to focus on be efficient instead of being balanced.

I'm past mid point in my week off.

Have I obeyed the speed limit? Don't ask.

Because then I'd have to tell you that I'm not sure.

And really if I'm not sure, I probably haven't.

I'm having a great time, seeing family and friends. I've done a lot of sleeping. I've seen "Nacho Libre" 4 times. Like John Lennon said, "Time you enjoyed wasting, wasn't wasted". And that's true; externally, I'm rested.

But what about my inner being? That's what I'm not so sure about.

When I wear a poppy, I remember.

In Grade 9 I job shadowed my Father. I pinned a red poppy on my burgundy sweater and began a day that changed my life.

My Dad is a priest. He took me to visit a man at the end of his life. I felt so nervous. I didn't know what to say to this elderly man. It seemed like our lives couldn't be any more separate.

His wife made us tea. We sat together. He told me about his life. He shared old black and white photos of him as a little boy, standing outside a one room school house. He told me about his father and how things were different back then.

I don't remember a lot of what was said. But I do remember feeling so alive. We spent hours in that living room. I felt like I had discovered a treasure.

This man who had seemed so irrelevant taught me to see people.

When he died, his wife-his widow, asked me to sing at his funeral. I had never even been to a funeral.

I stepped to the front of the tiny church. My feet felt glued to the floor. As I began to sing, "Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound.....", my body was filled with electricity. I felt overwhelmed and completely loved. It would be years before I learned to associate this feeling with the presence of the living God.

After the funeral, we went back to the living room where I had met him. I ate marshmallow squares and looked at the family that he loved.

I wish I could have told them how God had used this man, Bill, to shape my life. He taught me to be curious about the lives of the people I meet each day. From Bill, I learned that everyone has a story. That everyone has joys and sorrows. That we're all connected.

When I wear a poppy, I remember.

I dressed up as a bag of Garbage for Halloween.

Yup, that's real garbage...including the rotting lettuce on my head.