I have come to love the season of Advent. And having our own kids, it’s become even cooler.

Every night at the dinner table during Advent we sing a ridiculously silly song to the tune of “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” and I do stress EVERY night, for 25 days ….. I wouldn’t change a thing.

“Advent is a time to wait, not quite time to celebrate. Light the candles one by one, till this Advent time is done. Christmas day will soon be here. Time for joy and time for cheer.”

Blessings y’all.

Going where called,
Doing what is asked,

Doug

And, it was a time of journaling and letting God speak. We are so eager to fill our quiet time or waiting time with something. Car rides, bus rides, waiting rooms, lineups.  We pop in our ear-buds and let so many “false prophets” and “God-wanna-be’s” fill our ears. Twice now in the past couple of days, I have turned on the radio or picked up a magazine to fill some space or kill some time. And both times the hollowness has rung out like a bell. Drivel. Meaningless pish-posh. Pablum. All I wanted, all I craved, was to hear God’s voice. I didn’t want to pray or request or complain or give thanks. I just wanted to listen and allow him to come for my heart. The Psalm response I heard so often as a child echoed in my head. “Lord you have the words of everlasting life.” And come God did. These past months have been filled with instances of being romanced and cared for by our Creator. Miracles big and small. Words of affirmation and comfort. Reassurance.

And as I reflect, I see me holding Jonathan through his needs and whispering into his ear words of comfort, stroking his hair. And, I see God holding me through my needs, providing for everything, giving in abundance and whispering words of life into my ear.

“Our Father, who is in heaven, blessed be your name.”

Going where called,
Doing what is asked,

Doug

I remember back when I was a teen and what Good Friday was for me, for our family. Lent was fasting. Typically from candy. Virtually every year, we’d give up candy, as a family. It was never really that hard. I remember one year, Jeanette gave up TV. Mom and Dad applauded that. I thought it was pretty cool but Jeanette was always into that kind of thing, something a step up. Very cool. But Good Friday was a major fast day. I really don’t remember what we would have for breakfast. Probably the same as any other day, Corn Flakes or something.

The big thing that marked Good Friday was rock picking. Yep, in the morning right after breakfast Dad would take Rick and me out to the fields. He’d drive the tractor with the front end loader and we’d pick rocks. Dad would come out and help when there were lots or when they were really big. Around noon, we’d go back in for lunch. Lunch was usually just soup and really light sandwiches, like cheese. No meat obviously. Then we’d go back out and pick some more. One thing that just stands out is that it seemed to always be windy. We’d be out in the middle of a 1/4 section of dirt and it’d be blowing like mad. And you’d be rubbing the dirt from your eyes but it would cake in the corners. And your mouth would be full of dirt. We’d just pick. Just keep picking. We carried some heavy rocks in those fields. There were some that seemed that they were just little on the surface but when we went to dig them up, they were like small mountains. Several hundred pounds. And we’d grunt and groan. We scratch the dirt away around the rock and pull and push. But there were rocks that were just too big for us to lift. So we’d get the tractor there to dig them up with the loader. And it would get underneath the rock and just pop it right out of the ground. And then, it’d be back to the house for the 3:00pm service at church. You’d get to the house and look in the mirror and it would look like you were in a rodeo. Dirt covered your front teeth and would be crusted in the corners of your mouth. And you could have planted potatoes in your ears. We’d clean up and it would be off to church. On some Good Fridays, I think we might have even went back out picking after church.

Why? Why does this stand out? What does this mean? Did Dad do this on purpose? Yes, of course he did. Maybe not for any deep spiritual purposes but the rocks needed to be picked. And yes, we fasted for the same reason most Catholics do on Good Friday. We were told to. I mean, Mom and Dad gave us all the reasons for fasting and stuff. Sacrifice, doing without, offering it up and yada yada. I experienced the whole “what’s the point” range of emotions as most questioning teens do. But looking back on it now, it means something.What Dad did for us means something to me. Especially when I reflect on The Passion. Not just the movie either but the story. And I reflect now on what Jesus carried that day.

I carried rocks. But on Good Friday, Jesus carried ME.

MY ROCK, my Saviour, carried me.

Wind, dirt, dust and blood. No tractor. No cheese sandwich. No one hour church service. Just Him, for me. And as I sit here, tears rolling down my cheek I can only say. “Once again I look upon the Cross where You died. I’m humbled by your mercy and I’m broken inside. Once again I thank you. Once again I pour out my life. Thank you for the Cross. Thank you for the Cross. Thank you for the Cross my Friend.”

You are all blessed. I hope you pause today and give thanks.

Going where called.
Doing what is asked.

Doug

Good morning! Oh my Lord. There is SO much in my little ol’ pea brain right now! Right now, I wanted to share with you that if your group, company, church or other organization is in need of some renewal, focus, vision or bonding, Judy and I are available for a very limited number of speaking and facilitation engagements in the next year!

We want to hear from you and see if there is a place we can serve you and your mission. From one hour consultations to three day retreats.

Please contact us and book early!

We can cover any number of topics. Have a look around the blog and you’ll get an idea of our vision and mission.

E-mail me at intothewilderness@gmail.com.

Looking forward!

Doug and Judy