Gift of Grace

Why do blog inspirations come at the most unseeming times? Like when you're trying to wind down and go to sleep, but ideas refuse to be calmed. Sometimes the number of intricately connected ideas would take the whole night to conquer and record... 

"And of His fullness we have all received, and grace for grace." John 1:16

Do you comprehend how much we rely on God for righteousness? Do I? The verse above says that if it weren't for God's grace, we couldn't even receive God's grace. We are so sinful that of ourselves, we aren't capable of obtaining God's gift of forgiveness. In my battle with God against the devil, I have come to realize that either I can use God's grace to keep me from sin, or I can use it to forgive me from sin. That doesn't give me license to sin when I want to and expect my relationship with God to remain strong. Rather, it shows that in the end, whatever my actions, it's God's grace that saves me. Whether I sin or not, I still use God's gift of grace.

"Gift." I have come to love that word. I am completely incapable of repayment or justification for God's grace and blessings that He gives me. Recently, I have wondered why I haven't been very happy. I would work hard to find happiness in the experiences around me. Now I am beginning to realize that happiness doesn't come from "out there." It comes from inside; it is a gift from God. Of course, when I realize that happiness is a gift, I realize that all the little things in life (like the beautiful weather) are gifts as well, and suddenly my happiness and thankfulness increases exponentially. Why? Because God has given me the grace to use His grace.

Int'resting Life

Like Marigold says in Magic for Marigold, "Life is so int'resting!" This past weekend was particularly "int'resting," as it was spent with about two hundred people between the ages of fifteen and twenty-three in Ohio, U.S.

I had no idea how much I valued originality until this past weekend. At one service centre, forty percent of the people were wearing the same type of sandal. It made me want to go buy a pair of my own right away! Gag.

And that is only one of the many thoughts rumbling around in my head that started at this gathering. Another one is my thankfulness for being back in the country where people understand my humour. Quite a few times, after spewing a random comment, I would find myself sitting in silence while the rest of my group would look at me as though they didn't know what to do. Just laugh, ding-dong! Vocabulary is another source of difference. Oh, the poor people who don't use words like serviette, courier, and toque!

I have a feeling that this weekend's experiences will strongly affect me; its influence will pop up all over my blog. Only you probably won't recognize it. I will, though, and so I'll chuckle to myself as I write.

Hop, Skip, and a Jump

You're probably wondering about the title of this post. Well, keep wondering a little longer.

Ever been an air traffic controller? Me neither. But I've used this wonderful online simulator. Some days, it feels like I'm an air traffic controller for the radar of my life. Mostly when my job and personal life get really hectic and I need to coordinate fourteen random things that are happening at once. "Air Canada one-twenty-two, descent three thousand." lol

The Tour de France is well on its way. This race is so difficult that most of the riders focus on finishing the race, rather than placing first. Only the elite can dream of covering the 3,400 km in the shortest time. The effect this race had on me is amazing, and I'm still elated. A few days ago I managed to maintain an average speed of 30 km/h over a circuit route for the first time! I have a long way to go before I reach the speeds of the professionals. On similar routes, they can achieve an average speed of over 50 km/h!

In some ways I feel sorry for those cyclists, though. As much as I like cycling on the side, I couldn't enjoy it in the amounts they handle it. It seems to be their life. I have to wonder, "What about playing tennis, or swimming, or watching fireworks with friends, or driving to work in the morning, or falling in love with summer, or, or, or." The list stretches on. So I'll cheer them on and not envy them even a little.

I finished Rilla of Ingleside recently. It seems different from many of L. M. Montgomery's books. This one is far from idealistic. It takes place during World War I, and nothing could be less perfect. Yet it captures my imagination. I am so glad I don't have to face the fear and worry that these brave people had to face every day on the home front.

Did you know that William Stephenson was an introvert? Maybe you don't know him by that name. He was also called Little Bill and Intrepid. During World War II this Canadian was one of the most important Allied intelligence commanders. I've only read about two chapters into one of his biographies, but I can tell already.

And now back to the title. I had all these unconnected thoughts. So instead of carefully organizing them, I let them lump together. Happy leaping!

After the Pressure

Here's a video of... actually, I'll let you discover what it's about. Click here.

O Canada

In honour of Canada Day, I'm posting the lyrics of our national anthem in their original language - French.  Surprisingly enough, the English lyrics that we know so well aren't a literal translation at all. Anyway, these words were written by Lieutenant Governor of Quebec Théodore Robitaille in 1880. Enjoy!

Ô Canada!
Terre de nos aïeux,
Ton front est ceint de fleurons glorieux!
Car ton bras sait porter l'épée,
Il sait porter la croix!
Ton histoire est une épopée
Des plus brillants exploits.
Et ta valeur, de foi trempée,
Protégera nos foyers et nos droits.
Protégera nos foyers et nos droits.

And this is what a literal translation looks like:

O Canada!
Land of our forefathers,
Thy brow is wreathed with a glorious garland of flowers.
As is thy arm ready to wield the sword,
So also is it ready to carry the cross.
Thy history is an epic
Of the most brilliant exploits.
Thy valour steeped in faith
Will protect our homes and our rights
Will protect our homes and our rights

Terror on Both Sides

(Kogo)

Of the only two flight-worthy in the world, I have seen one of them; a flying piece of history, the B-24 Avro Lancaster. For those who don’t know, it was one of Britain’s most important bombers during World War II. I was intrigued by the noise as it roared overhead. Its four engines with twelve cylinders each beat out a steady, throbbing rhythm, while the propellers spun out a steady whine. What a gloriously wonderful sound! Or was it? For a few moments I wasn't so certain as I slipped away.

The only thing that was the same was the sound of the engines. Through pitch blackness of night, I heard them faintly in the distance. My heart stopped beating. I knew what that meant. Through the darkness, the evil, throbbing rumble gained intensity. The air raid siren wailed to life. “Run!” it screamed. And so everyone did. Yet over the desperate pounding of feet and the piercing siren, you could hear them marching steadily on. The invisible foe was coming for us, identified only by the dreadful noise it made. The bomb shelter was supposed to protect me. Physically it did. Was it my imagination or did the thrumming sound of the engines follow me underground? Was it my imagination, or could I hear the whistling of the bombs, feel the earth-jarring collision, and experience the instant explosion that wracked the earth and shredded humans like paper? Was there relief when the danger passed? Would I stop shaking in an hour? Two hours? The eerie glow of fires met my eyes as I emerged. And fading into the distance was the steady throbbing rumble… 

In the air it wasn't any better. 

The throbbing serenaded us; it propelled us through the darkness. Us as in our aircrew, us as in our group of bombers. The vibration was fatiguing. And as we drummed over Germany, the terror began. A single pillar of light stabbed menacingly through the darkness. If only it had stayed single. Exponentially they multiplied until the sky was filled with the flaming swords that swished viciously and threatened our thunderous journey. The flak popped and pushed us around. Up and down, side to side we swung, trying to weave our way through the maze of explosions and blinding lights. Suddenly the searchlights converged on a single bomber. It glittered as it twisted through the sky, attempting to elude the fearful focus. A flash and a stream of orange. The aircraft became its own light, spiraling down, down, down. And still our engines droned on. Once the bombs were away, we left the city to its terror as we faced a terror of our own: weaving back through a dangerous night. Terror combined with tiredness as the engines throbbed on… 

And then I came back and the throbbing engines were only a harmless historic aircraft. Did I still find the sound so wonderful? Is it surprising that veterans don’t speak of their experiences?

Kogo. "Avro Lancaster." Wikipedia, 9 July 2005. Web. 26 June 2011. <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Avro_Lancaster_B_I_PA474.jpg>.

Mystery of Languages

I have a work place filled with wonderfully diverse people. Yesterday I could listen to three conversations, all in different languages!

I find languages rather fascinating. This is my favourite perspective: a conversation in a foreign language is just a string of sounds to me, but to those who understand, it is complete thoughts. 

I'm sure you have heard a conversation in a language that you don't understand. (If you haven't, I ask you, "Where have you been all your life?") Anyway, don't some words sound absolutely hilarious? How the speakers can keep a straight face? But what about with English? Good grief; pick any word, say it to yourself a couple times, and see if it doesn't sound funny.

Have you ever attempted to see what English would be like if you didn't understand it? On occasion, I have tried to do this... I try my best to block out the meanings of the words and listen only to the sounds. I have yet to succeed. My brain is wired so the thoughts always take precedence over the sounds. Now I challenge you to read this without understanding the words. Come on, view it like it's just a jumble of letters. Pretty hard, eh?

Every noticed that you understand people when they laugh? Last year, I was sitting in a McDonald's in eastern Ontario listening to a small group of people speaking French, when they all started laughing. I thought, "They're laughing in English!" Well, actually they weren't... 

Castle in a Storm

I drew this picture for our school's drawing contest. Unfortunately, it didn't win. (sniff, sniff) Click here to see the picture that won. Anyway, I used a combination of pencil and charcoal; pencil for the outlines and charcoal for the shading. The coolest part about charcoal is that you can use an eraser to "lift out" white highlights, which is exactly what I did for the foam. 

The Coming of Power

Travel back to Easter. The crucifixion of Jesus, the fear in His disciples hearts at the time. Think of what has all transpired in your life... April seems so long ago already. Many incidents have come and gone. And yet, in A.D. 33, Jesus disciples had been cowering from the public all this time. They'd seen Jesus in person after he rose from the dead, but to them, even that must have seemed like a long time ago. Until today. You can read all about it in Acts 2. Pentecost, the might rushing wind, the tongues of fire, and most of all, God's power resting within them. But why the wait? For months, the disciples might have felt that God had forgotten them. He just waited. But when the glory of the Holy Spirit come on them, I don't suppose they would have wished for any other way! 

Journey Through The Heavens

I went wandering through the cosmos last night. The old familiar constellations had delightful tales to tell. Cassiopeia seemed lost; she was far from her usual palace. I told her so. She said she was just taking her yearly travels. I didn't dare to disagree; she can be such a disdainful ice queen. However, we gossiped about two stars that were flirting, Cassiopeia supplying some dreadful details. After the fact, she sternly reminded herself that royalty should never gossip, especially young royalty, but I promised her that I wouldn't leak any statements to the media. Later on, I swung within a couple light years of the flirting stars to see what they were up to, but they were very secretive. They weren't about to include me in their confidences! The man in the moon was on sick-leave, but in his place was his fair daughter. She was just a fragile crescent drifting gracefully towards the horizon. Well, I say a crescent. There was a deceptive glow that transformed her from a crescent into an elusive sphere. She wasn't very chatty; we sat in silence until she bid me goodbye for new worlds. Scorpius must have been feeling very friendly, for he talked to me. He’s one of those cold-blooded creatures that find a warmer dwelling place for the winter. Did he ever have some tall stories to tell! You can’t believe everything you hear. Anyway, his raspy voice got on my nerves after a while. And of course, Mother Milky Way was waiting patiently for me. Such a wise one, she is. She has been around for a couple eras and has a multitude of experiences to share. I was surprised how old she looked. Maybe it was one of her poorer nights, but it's a gentle reminder me that she won’t be around forever. And then it was time to leave this far-flung world for my own. All I have left from my travels are some memories and a bit of star dust around my lips. (Cassiopeia said I had to taste it; trust me, it’s wonderful). 

Do you ever wonder whether there really is such a thing as the music of the spheres? When you see the intricately placed stars strewn across that great dome of sky, and you stand in an atmosphere of communicative silence, you can almost imagine the majestic music played by the orchestra of the sky.