It's Beginning to Look a lot Like Christmas...

Christmas has hit the Feddema household with a vengence. About three weeks ago. I do realize that it is only the first week of December, but Christmas is my favourite time of year. My railing is wrapped in snowy, glittery greenery, red stockings already fat with stuffers plunging from the garland. Bing Crosby is crooning "White Christmas" in the background. My tree glints and glows from the corner. The aromas of nutmeg and cinnamon waft from the kitchen as I take an eggnog loaf from the oven. My Christmas shopping is done...waiting to be wrapped (the only thing I hate about Christmas).

It's just that time of year when everything seems magical, possible, forgivable, lovable. We get wrapped up in the smells, the sights, the traditions, the memories, the songs, the gifts, the future. As a Christian, it's hard to remember to "keep the reason for the season." We, too, get distracted with the glitter, the lights, the show of it all. But let's take a moment, this Christmas season, to think of Christmas from our Father's perspective...

The birth of Jesus in a barn stall was anything but magical - and yet, it was. It was the birth that breathed ultimate forgiveness, unconditional love and unfathomable possibilities for the Christian world. Close your eyes to imagine it all. While we smell gingerbread and holly, 2000 years ago, the only smell would have been of hay and manure. We marvel at the way people decorate their homes with lights and garlands and trees; God marveled from above at the sight of His Son brought forth - completely human, completely perfect, with ten little fingers and ten little toes. We reminisce of traditions and memories of Christmases past, while 2000 years ago, our Father savoured the moment of love between mother and Son. Gustily, we sing "Joy to the World," "Frosty the Snowman," and "Deck the Halls" with well-spirited fervor. God sent the choirs of the heavens, 2000 years ago, to serenade the hillsides of sleepy Bethlehem. With expectation, stress, and excitement, we pick out the perfect gifts, meanwhile, God knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that His Son was THE perfect Gift. On Christmas day, the future seems so bright ahead of us. To the Father, 2000 years ago, He saw the future - He saw the nail-printed hands and the blood-stained brow and the redeeming love.

Time dulls the intimacy of the real Christmas. Yet, if you stop to listen for just a moment amidst the hustle and bustle, I'm sure, instead of the tap of reindeers hooves upon your rooftop, you will hear the song of a Father's love resonating through the ages.

Noah's Wife

For our Young Adults Worship Night coming up, we are focusing on some of the miracles within our everyday Bible stories. So often, we, as Christians, take for granted the amazing complexity of the miracles that God has preformed in our forefathers. My task is to reveal the supernatural phenomenon of Noah's flood through a perspective not often thought of - Noah's wife:


THE STORY OF NOAH’S ARK FROM HIS WIFE’S PERSPECTIVE

"For one hundred and twenty years we were scorned. Imagine! One hundred and twenty years! Aaah...it was the best of times, it was the worst of time. (pauses)

My poor husband couldn’t even walk to the market without mockery being hurled at him across the market square. “Hey, Noah! When’s this rainstorm supposed to be coming?” “What do you have there, Noah? More building supplies for your ark?” Still, my husband managed to hold his head high and bravely spoke of the Lord’s coming destruction.

My three sons? (sighs) Oh my poor children! There was a time at the beginning when all the neighbour kids would flock around them, interested in the “building project” that my boys’ father was constructing. It didn’t take long, though, until the children’s parents warned them to stay away from my sons and the monstrous shell of a boat that towered in our fields. Yet, as the years passed on, my sons clung to the promises of the rain and the revenge of our most holy God. I’m amazed, to this day, at the Lord’s goodness for keeping our sons faithful to Him.

As for me, well, there is nothing quite like the gossip of women! And oh, how it spreads! When Noah first started to build the ark, most of the women in my social circle just dismissed it as another “manly” building project. However, once the frame for the ark started to take shape, it threw a shadow over my friendships. I always knew when my family was being talked about, because as I would walk to the well each morning, the other women would stop to stare at me, whisper to each other, smirking as they quickly shuffled out of my way.

It was as if we had a disease! They were hard times, but times that definitely brought us closer together as a family, and closer to God. I smile now when I think of the way we boldly proclaimed the inevitable destruction that God was going to bring upon mankind. We had no shame.
No matter how hard and long we preached to our neighbours, nothing seemed to sink in. It was draining. There was nothing that we wanted more than for our former friends to believe that God’s punishment was coming!

It was an ordinary day when Noah and I awoke to the strangest of sounds. Imagine our disbelief when we looked out our window and saw animals of every kind, spreading out as far as the eye could see, all heading towards our boat. Imagine how it felt when the first rain drops started to fall! Up until that time, we never knew what rain was!

We were ecstatic! God was fulfilling His promise! And yet...I couldn’t help but feel sorrow wash over me as I thought of all our neighbours! Noah and I grew up with some of these people! For close to 600 years we had all toiled and worked the earth together...and now, their evilness had brought upon THIS. (sighs)

I can still hear the echoing thud of the ark’s door as it shut. The chaos of hungry animals and the pelting rain above us could not drown out the cries from outside the ark as the waters rose. What was even worse was the deafening silence after a mere hour of rainfall. I shudder to think of what it must have looked like beyond the sturdy walls of our ark.

It was over a year before we ever saw or walked upon dry ground again. My feet were wobbly as I stepped out of the ark, unsure of the muddy ground beneath my feet. We were exhausted. And yet, in that desolate landscape, all Noah could do was kiss the ground and sing praises to our God. We even erected an altar to thank our Lord for being faithful to us. Just when we were thinking that God could not provide us with any more miracles, we were dazzled by the most beautiful one of all!

The sky was awash with vivid reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues and violets that stretched from east to west. I remember looking at Noah and seeing the glow of this miracle reflected in his face. I recall kicking off my sandals, raising my arms as if to embrace the hues arched above me, and laughing. I twirled around, feeling the mud squish through my toes – thinking it was the most beautiful feeling I had ever felt. And there, on the top of that mountain where we rested, I fell to my knees and thanked God for His faithfulness and His breath-taking hope."

Bread of Perfection

The golden loaves glowed on my counter top. The comforting aroma of freshly baked bread saturated my kitchen. I couldn't help but feel a little proud as I stood back from the sweltering oven, hands on my hips, and admired my most recent culinary triumph.

The bread was still hot when I sliced thick slabs off, smothered in butter and raspberry jam. Perfection on my plate.

Before I took my first bite, I heard His voice.

"I am the bread of life." He whispered.

Thoughtfully, I chewed upon sustenance, both physical and spiritual:

John 6:48-51 "I am the bread of life. Your forefathers ate the manna in the desert, yet they died. But here is the bread that comes down from heaven which a man may eat and not die. I am the living bread that comes down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. This bread is my flesh which I will give for the life of the world."

My forefathers and I are one and the same. So often, I am content to scrape an existence in the arid desert, comfortable with consuming heaps of manna. From my plate of hard, wafer-like morsels, I can barely lift my eyes to the heavens to taste the Living Bread, broken for me. Instead, I focus on finding, striving, inventing any little way that I can make the manna lying at my feet taste sweet. My efforts to satiate my gnawing hunger is in vain, and it isn't long before my hands grasp at those pieces of manna once again. I cling to those hardened crumbs, forgetful of their failure to sustain me. Oh, I am such a manna eater!

The slop of this world clings to my lips in the form of manna, yet the most beautiful invitation is extended to me, to those who echo the footsteps of the Israelite forefathers. If I stop for but a moment from my vain efforts to sweeten my life on my own, the smell of Perfect Risen Bread wafts down from Heaven and envelopes me.

The taste of manna lies heavy and dry within my being, and yet, I hunger for this Bread - this broken Bread that the very crumbs I am unworthy to eat. With each moment I spend breathing in the Holy Sustenance, I experience the Life living within me. Paltry and measly is the plate of manna that I had been "feasting" upon before. Any traces of my desert fare, I wipe away.

Before me, the table is set. With His nail-printed palms spread, the Inviter entreats me to His simple banquet. With those same mangled hands, He breaks the Living Bread: "Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good."

Faithfulness Shines Through My Window

It's the sacred time between inky blackness and muted morning. Quietness shrouds the house. The hustle and bustle of breakfast and getting J out the door for work has lulled. In the chilly morning air, I've waved from the door, watching J's car slowly pull out of the drive. I follow with my eyes until I can't see his car anymore, only the pools of red reflecting on the pavement as he brakes for the stoplight. And then he's gone. Quietly, I close the door.

The remnants of a busy morning are scattered. Dishes in the sink, J's towel slung lazily over the bathroom door, the bed unmade. I close my eyes to the clutter and head to the living room.

It's always the same corner of the couch each morning. I wrap my hands around a steaming mug of coffee, bundled beneath a cozy afghan. Here, I wait. I listen. For Him.

The view out my window shows fog pulling its whispery fingers away from rooftops. The murky gray and blue shadows blend into blushed yellows and pinks. There is no shadow of turning with Thee. Each morning the sunrise is different. But each morning, it's a gift from Him that I see unfolded through panes of glass.

Spoken words flow as I pour out my full heart to my Lord, my Renewer of Every Morning. Morning by morning, new mercies I see!

From His Love Letter, I read - His voice reverberating through my fingertips, my mind as I caress each word. As the daylight grows stronger, I gently close His Letter, nurturing His truths in my heart. Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow!

I breathe in the stillness before the routine of my day sets in. Thank You, O God my Father! Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me!

Now - I am ready.

Experimental Prayer

J and I had the opportunity last week to take our YACC (Young Adults College and Careers) group through an interactive prayer night.

I have found that prayer can be one of the most daunting topics to approach amongst a Christian group. It seems  that we get so caught up in the "rituals." Close your eyes, fold your hands, use lots of big words (like sanctification, redemption, justification etc...) to make you sound smart, etc...The most frightful thing about prayer can be the very notion of praying OUT LOUD. Or even worse, in front of people.

Consequently, J and I wanted to tackle this obstacle, allowing people to know the beauty of communicating with our Creator, without the list of "do's and don'ts" lingering above. So, we constructed an interactive prayer night where each individual spent time at 9 different stations. Ideally, it would be nice to do this all in one big room (similar to a prayer labyrinth) but instead, J and I sectioned off 9 of the Sunday school classrooms at the back of the church and people moved from room to room as they pleased.

STATION 1: MAP

At this station, we had the YACC-ers pray for our city.  We had set out a large map of Kitchener Waterloo and around the map were pictures of different organizations within the city that helped the needy. (The Food Bank, ROOF, Ray of Hope etc..) The individual then read through Matthew 5:3-10, allowing God to impress on their heart the needs within our own city.

STATION 2: LISTEN

Here, the person meditated on Psalm 46:10 (Be still and know that I am God). We had instrumental music in the background, with all the lights turned out and only a few candles burning. This station was supposed to infuse peace, relaxation, knowing that God is in control.

STATION 3: WORD

At this particular station, we had laid out three different scrabble boards. The individual was to reflect upon the verse Isaiah 9:6. They were to think of words that they would use to describe God based upon His presence in their life. Whatever word(s) came to mind, the individual was to put on the scrabble board. As a result, the words connected (Scrabble style) as a symbol of how each individual has experiences of God to share with others.

STATION 4: CONFESSION

Here, we encouraged people to confess their sins/struggles while living in a broken world. Two passages were given (1 John 1:8-9 and Psalm 32:3-6) to stimulate their hearts to confession. They then wrote down whatever they felt needed to be confessed, and then, shredded it in the paper shredder. This station was to be one of repentance, and yet, a place to feel God's mercy.

STATION 5: REFLECTION

This station was composed of three mirror set on chair in different corners of the room. The young adult was invited to sit in front of this mirror to examine their reflection. They were encouraged to praise God for the amazing creation of themselves, realizing that they are 'fearfully and wonderfully made.' As well, they took time to ponder Proverbs 27:19, asking God to show them whether or not their lives were reflections of Christ or not.

STATION 6: H2O

Here, the individual was to think about how every prayer offered to God mixes with the prayers of all of God's people around the world. (They meditated on Matthew 18:20 and Ephesians 6:18) They were to consider how amazing it is to know that prayers do not know the boundaries of tie or space and so all become one! The person was then encouraged to think of a person, place or situation that they wanted to life up in prayer. When they were ready, they were to pour water from one of the pitchers into one of the bowls, watching as the water from other people's prayers mixed with their's - uniting as one. 

STATION 7: BURDENS

At this station, the young adult focused on Matthew 11:28. Here, they were encouraged to write down their burdens that they wanted to give over to Christ. They then wrote the burdens on post-it notes and stuck them to the cross of Christ, as an act of freeing themselves from doubts, fears, obligations, worries etc...that were keeping them from proper communion with God.

STATION 8: TIME

This station was intended to sober the individual into realizing how fleeting their time here on earth truly is. They were to meditate on Psalm 39:4-6, asking God to show them ways that they could make the most of their time here on earth by bringing glory to Him. Thoughts of heaven and eternity (and where you will spend it) were encouraged. They were inspired to spend time in prayer, asking God to show them the importance of the time they have here on earth.

STATION 9: PICTURES OF JESUS

We had set up at this station a projector that showed different images of Christ through the ages. Some of them were quite interesting (pictures of Jesus made from bar codes) or quite intricate (pictures of Jesus painted from the Renaissance). People were encouraged to think about their own understanding of Jesus and their call as a disciple of Christ. They were to consider the images that affirmed their understanding of Jesus and the ones that challenged them. Ultimately, they were to focus on John 14:6, knowing that there is only one way to the Father - through Jesus Christ. 

At the end of the evening, J and I felt that the interactive prayer night was a success. It was intended to be more of an experimental way to get acquainted with prayer. However, as a Christian, it is important to know that we are to be ready to pray in all situations...even in those more awkward situations. In fact, we are to pray continually (I Thessalonians 5:17)! But perhaps this night was used to open the eyes of someone to know how incredibly, beautifully simple communication with our Saviour can be!

1) Abide

Abide. What do you think of when you hear that word? I looked up the definition and discovered it means "to remain in one place; to continue to be sure or firm; to dwell or sojourn." 

As a small group leader for YACC (Young Adults College and Careers) at our church, we are undergoing a study called "Abide," where we learn to abide in God and in the time that we spend with Him. If I was to share my opinion with you about personal time with God, I would likely tell you that it's important - it's something that should be done.

I'm a big list person. Every morning I start off my day with writing a list of things to accomplish by the time the sun goes down. Always at the top of my list, I write down: 1) Devotions. And, typically, about half an hour later, I will take up that list and put a big, black line through the word "Devotions," breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that "phew! I got that out of the way!", and then continue on with my day.

Since when did my worship with God become a 30 minute time slot that I needed to put a harsh, angry scratch through? It's like I set an egg timer and as soon as the bell would ring, I would stuff our omnipresent God back into His box, only to allow Him out the next day for His daily scheduled appointment. "To dwell or sojourn" has had no place in my devotional walk.

I looked up the antonyms of "abide" and was shocked at what I found: "depart, migrate, leave, reject, resist, quit, hurry, move..." And while those words may seem a bit drastic, allow the reality of them to sink in. Up until now, every time I closed my Bible up, I would migrate to the next thing on my list, depart and hurry onto other more pressing matters.

God, teach me to abide. Slow me down so that I allow my thoughts to dwell and sojourn, to remain in one place, to continue to be sure and firm on You. Change my daily list to read: 1) Abide. And let me not put a line through it. Instead, grant me the perseverance to never fully accomplish or finish abiding in You.

Hannah and Joseph

As I mentioned before, I previously was a hairstylist. What people say about "Only my hairdresser knows!" really is true. For some reason, as soon as a client sit in your chair, you automatically become their best friend, whether they are young or old. Secrets are shared, tears flow and gossip is rampant between client and hairstylist. It is truly one of the most unique relationships I have ever experienced.

Being a hairstylist has changed me in a lot of ways. I view things differently. I learn to not take people necessarily at face value. I discover ways to accentuate hidden beauty. But most of all, I learn to be friends with extremely diverse people. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss that interaction with my clients.

What would surprise me the most would be how often God would reveal Himself to me through my clients. I came across an old journal entry I had written about a year ago that gives a little glimpse into my life as a stylist:

"Oh the beauty of child-like faith! Hannah was three years old, with fluffy blonde curls. She was perched on a booster seat, squirming, tilting her head this way and that while I tried to cut her hair, all the while chattering away incessantly. Every other phrase started off with, 'But why?' as she would scrunch up her nose in deep contemplation. Suddenly, she let out a big gasp, and her round blue eyes got even rounder.

'I have a movie about Joseph!' she squeaked.

'Oh ya?' I replied, smiling.

Hannah nodded her head vigourously.

'And he had brothers and his brothers SOLD him! And they threw him in a pit and they SOLD him!'

She looked intently at me for a proper reaction.

'Oh no!' I said. 'Did they throw him in a pit because he had a colourful coat and his dad loved Joseph more than them?'

Her eyes widened even more, shocked that I would know the same story.

'Yes! And they SOLD him! And he went far, far away and then his brothers came back and they became friends and they lived happily ever after. The end.'

Hannah was beaming, so proud that she had so accurately depicted the Joseph story.

After this vivacious little three-year-old left, I couldn't help but marvel at the transparency, the vulnerability, the pure excitement she had over one simple Bible story. God put Hannah in my chair today to show me His love and His faithfulness.

'Oh, God!' I cried out. 'Give me the courage and faith of Hannah - to proclaim Your love and forgiveness without shame. Give me the strength to cling to childlike faith. Help me to never forget that likewise, You SOLD Your Son - You SOLD Him! So that He could forgive me, and be my friend, and we could live happily ever after. The end.'"

Worlds Apart

J and I had our ROOF training this afternoon at church. For those of you who don't know what ROOF is, it stands for: Reaching Our Outdoor Friends - an organization that comes alongside homeless youth in the Waterloo region, giving them essential services to maintain a somewhat "regular" day-to-day life. Here's their link: http://www.roof-agency.net/

I came home, very overwhelmed, realizing how completely unequipped I am for such a daunting task. Not only does my mind not comprehend how some young people have such horrific backgrounds, but I can barely fathom the idea of living day-by-day, hour-by-hour, minute-by-minute, moment-by-moment with the uncertainty that must plague these young people. My eyes are opened to how utterly naive I am.

I grew up in a solid family. My parents are still together, and still love one another. Neither of them have either molested or abused me. I've had consistency in my life. I never doubted whether or not I would come home, have dinner, go to sleep in a warm bed,  or know that I was loved by my family members. In fact, I'm ashamed to admit how often I have taken those most essential building blocks for granted. Instead, I would complain about the paint colour in my bedroom, sigh over the fact that Mum made supper with spinach...AGAIN, bemoan the fact that my brother had the comfier mattress, and argue with my parents over curfew.

http://www.roof-agency.net/roofpress/?p=92

Which brings me to the looming question: How in the world will I ever relate to these people, when my most earth-shattering annoyances are likely grievances they desire to have the option to grumble about? How is it possible to even bridge the gap between my world and their world? What hope can I possibly give them, when I've never lived in a world of hopelessness?  It is here that I am reminded of the prayer of Jabez: 1 Chronicles 4:10 "Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, 'Oh, that You would bless me and enlarge my territory!'"

So often as Christians, it's easy to stay within our own little bubble, where we feel safe. The idea of stepping out of our comfort zones, or enlarging our territories, to reach out to those who are less fortunate is often shrugged off, passing that duty along to the missionaries. My experience, growing up in Christian circles, is that it's much easier to shove money at "problems" out there in the world, rather than doing something. Don't get me wrong, so many of these reputable organizations need money to continue doing the work they do. However, without the hands, the visions, the work ethics of those "money-shovers," the "problems" are never truly solved.

Basically, it doesn't matter that I don't have the same experiences to relate to these youth. It's immaterial that my world and their world are separated by millions of light years. What matters is that my territory is expanding, my limits are being stretched, my hands are being used and most importantly, that God is calling us all to that purpose.