The room full of people finally grew quiet as the tall gentleman stood at the podium.  Almost apologetically, Scott called the folks to attention.  His evening's agenda was written on a small sheet of paper and he nervously waved it as he repeated the request for everyone to find a seat.
"Welcome to NAIM Staff Conference Canmore 2014!  Our hope is that everyone will find our theme has come true...Relax, Recharge, Renew..."
Scott continued on with announcements and instructions for the next few days.  I sat right at the front to help the songleader with the computer/projector.  Minutes before the meeting began, Scott was frantically locating an overhead projection screen and delegating others to find cords and connectors for the computer equipment.  The songleader wasn't back from supper yet, so none of us were sure what was needed for the first worship session.  And poor Scott kept looking at his wrist, commenting on the time and how many minutes past starting it was!
And here we were, only twenty minutes after 7 pm.  For most of us in First Nations ministry, any meeting that begins half an hour late is still early!  So I chuckled to myself as our M.C. panicked and the songleader was late and the equipment was finally being assembled.  This is reality for most of us in the mission field of North America Indigenous Ministry.
When Jim came up with his guitar, Scott whispered that we were behind schedule and maybe only needed a couple songs to begin our evening.  Jim adjusted and told me which songs to scroll to in his song list.  Again, most of us are used to being flexible, either adding or taking away from the things we have planned.
We sang two old hymns which celebrated our salvation and rejoiced in the Good News.  Then Tal, a pony-tailed First Nations missionary from Nanaimo on Vancouver Island, introduced our guest speaker.  They were personal friends and Tal warmly welcomed Mark Buchanan and his wife, Cheryl to our conference.
Mark grabbed the wireless microphone and began gently but passionately to share some of his story, and launch into the first message.  He was a fifty-ish man, professor at Ambrose University College in Calgary and author of several books.  His youthful jeans and dress shirt, casual yet smart looking shoes and shaven head belied his age.  I settled back in the second row beside Walter and took out pen and paper.  I didn't want to miss what Mark had to say.
"The Rest of God" was the title of his message and of a book he had authored a few years ago.  As he opened up the Ten Commandments, reminding us of the points of the other nine, he revealed the relationship of the Sabbath command to each of them.  These were not mere suggestions.  Today as believers in Jesus Christ, we are to continue to obey these, not only in the letter but the spirit of which God intended.  But somehow in Christian circles, we downplay the need to obey the Sabbath and yet figure we can carry on life and ministry without it.  Really?
Most everyone of us in that conference room could almost taste the delicious promise of rest.  But in our busy-ness, in our passion to reach the lost, share hope with the hurting, we have all pushed ourselves too far and become exhausted or even burned out!  Mark's words were very basic yet so timely.  I wrote furiously and vowed to buy the book after the session!
This weekly cycle of work and one day of rest was meant to keep us in balance.  As God established this routine, we need to value it as a healthy provision, a gift, to keep us energized and to remind us that God is in charge.  He doesn't need our 24/7 duties in order to keep the universe running.  If we rest as we ought, not just pursuing leisure that often leaves us exhausted, but God-centred activities that renew us, our hours of work will actually be more productive and enjoyable.
By the time Mark closed his first talk, and the snack table was being set up, we had been challenged and our appetites whetted for more truth!  I was already eager for the next morning's session.
Walter and I visited with friends and wandered by the goodies.  Then I found James, who was leading worship the next morning, to set up and practice the music.  It was after 11 pm by the time I was back in our hotel room.
Tomorrow would be a new day...

Leaving Regina 5 days ago, armed with Tim Horton's and the Roughrider game on the radio, we headed west on the TransCanada.  The plan was to drive as far as we felt up to and then make our way on Monday afternoon to the NAIM staff conference in Canmore, Alberta. The next thing I know, we are in Medicine Hat and we're both feeling good to keep going.  We switch to our James Herriot audiobook, reload with light snacks and away we went.

The sunset was spectacular as our diesel Jetta covered the kilometers-pinks, oranges, yellows, fading into blues.  Soon the sun disappeared below the horizon.  The lights of Calgary appeared and we hoped to find a hotel and food on the west side of the city.
"Hey, let's take the Stoney Trail and avoid 16th Avenue!"  So we drove what seemed to take us north a long ways before we turned west.  We read signs of streets and neighbourhoods that were new to us, wondering where this new by-pass would rejoin the TransCanada.  Soon, we found ourselves on the west side, beyond the strip of hotels and restaurants.  

"So, I guess we keep going to Canmore tonight?"

But the little Jetta needed refueling, and so did I!  We stopped at the PetroPass truck stop and found road snacks to tide us over until we reached our destination.  By this time, it is pitch black and I am tired and hungry and no longer feeling adventurous.  I had envisioned pacing ourselves so we would feel rested and ready for the conference.  And I imagined that wonderful sensation when we drove into the mountains and could almost inhale the fresh alpine experience!

Instead, we wound our way into the Rockies without actually knowing or seeing that the mountains were surrounding us.  The stars twinkled above the blackness.  Before too long we saw the Canmore signs and decided on the Rundle Mountain Inn.  We'd stayed there several years ago, a quaint log hotel with a neon vacancy sign.  Walter checked us in and then we drove a block or two and found a Wendy's.  We dined back at the cozy room and then crawled into bed.  Quite ready for sleep.

The next morning, we woke with the whole day stretching before us.  I was glad then that we didn't have to drive anymore.  We could explore, walk, shop.  We could check into the conference centre after a day to ourselves.  It was a delicious feeling.

As we entered the lobby, hugs and greetings erupted as NAIM folks began arriving.  Cheesy retro-nametags and information packets in hand, we officially began our three-day gathering.

Stay tuned as the next blog will reveal the inner workings of a staff conference of a bunch of crazy, independent and faithful missionaries....

I'm back but only briefly.
Some changes to our travel schedule enabled me to be home for an extra 48 hours before we leave for another few days.
Walter and I drove from Regina to Calgary on Tuesday morning following the Thanksgiving weekend.  It was a pleasant and relaxing drive, with the odd combine in the fields and some lovely colourful leaves still on the trees as we headed west.  The miles (kilometres?) flew by as we listened to an audio book of James Herriot's All Creatures Great and Small.  As we neared Calgary, Walter caught a glimpse of the Rocky Mountains and breathed a sigh.  We reached our destination exactly at the time we had hoped and could relax with our friends for the evening.
Why were we in Calgary, you may ask. Friends, whom Walter had lived with in the early 1980's, lost their 22-year-old daughter, Danielle, to Lyme Disease.  Her passing was both sudden and tragic, as she was undergoing treatments and was actually up and out of bed in recent weeks.  But because of some side-effects of the treatments, Danielle developed Seratonin Syndrome and had to be hospitalized.  She was unable to sleep and began to struggle with mental/psychological symptoms that the medical staff were trying to bring under control.  Sadly, she was unable to recover and went into cardiac arrest.  She never regained consciousness and the family had a few days to say good-bye before she slipped away into her Saviour's arms.
I believe I wrote some of this story in a previous blog. My battle earlier was that I was in the midst of acknowledging the loss of my Dad and the one-year markers that were coming up in the journey of my grieving.  I felt so numb, so unfeeling towards the Adrian family as Danielle's life was hanging in the balance.  When she did pass away, I felt some sadness but almost felt on the outside as Walter wept and felt this loss profoundly.
Because of the nature of Danielle's passing and the battle with our Canadian medical system to even acknowledge Lyme Disease as real, the family requested an autopsy.  With Thanksgiving weekend also coming up, the actual memorial service was set for about ten days from the time of her death.  This worked well for family and friends traveling, but as I know from personal experience, it can be difficult to grieve and process in the days before a postponed service.
About 600 people, young and elderly, were present in the large church sanctuary.  A beautiful black and white photograph of Danielle stood among some brightly coloured flower arrangements.  On the overhead screen above the front stage, was a set of three poses of Danielle in a blue plaid shirt, standing in a wheat field.  In one of the poses, she stood with arms stretched out, eyes closed and face lifted to the sky. What a lovely depiction of her desire to be with Jesus!  So many of the tributes and songs shared reflected her acceptance of the disease and its ultimate end being her "graduation" to heaven.
One of the poems Danielle had penned while in her bedridden condition had been put to music by a very talented young lady.  She sang to her own piano accompaniment and it was very touching.  This poem had been a blessing to several of her friends who had decided to turn their lives around to follow Jesus and not give up.  Wow!
The pastor shared a captivating presentation of the Gospel as the final portion of the memorial service.  Not hard and heavy but clear and inviting.  The image from John 14 of the mansion God is preparing for us gave me such a longing, such an ache for "home".  He explained how the eastern cultures often had the young married couples live in the family home, but just another room was added to accommodate them.  So the wording of verse 2 made sense in the middle-eastern context:  "In my Father's house are many rooms..."  That sense of being welcomed to a home where family was waiting and our Father was making things ready for our arrival was such a warm and beautiful picture for me.  The hope that the pastor communicated was very real and solid in the face of a too-young and too-soon death.  And that Jesus is the way, the truth and the life (John 14:6) for us to be received into this amazing heavenly home gave that assurance that our faith in Jesus Christ is not in vain.
So, we grieved but not as those who have no hope.  I cried through some of the service,  I felt the stinging of tears when we greeted Danielle's Mom and Dad, who smiled and spoke of their thankfulness for God's timing and peace in everything.  How incredible is God's grace in times like this! I'm back at my earthly home, but not for long.  We leave Sunday for a conference in Alberta.  I have the reminder that this world is not my true home ~ we're all just traveling through...

The blur of the weekend's activities has finally slowed and I want to take time to capture some moments.  It is now Monday evening of Thanksgiving weekend.  The house is empty except the two of us whose names are on the mortgage.
After four glorious days of warm, sunny weather, I have the windows open to let in the late harvest evening air.  Although we weren't doing anything particular outdoors, it was lovely to have pleasant days, especially for the wedding on Saturday that we attended.  Yes, we squeezed in extra company the pastor/professor who performed this wedding of a young lady who has been part of our church family.  So, it was a busy and full weekend!
Sunday was the highlight of it all and we began with the race to the shower in the morning!  We all made it to church for worship practice and setting up for the turkey meal to follow the service.  It was a bit of a chaotic morning - and for any of you who have been part of our ministry, the typical Sunday morning always seems to have a level of challenge with the sound system, copies of music missing or something someone forgot for the meal!  But when we all settled down to begin the service, God did take over and met with us in the music and the sharing.  It was a joy to focus on what we were thankful for and how God has blessed us as families and a church body in the past months!
Walter loves to preach on Sundays such as Thanksgiving.  We usually have a few extra guests along with the faithful in the congregation, plus it is easy to preach when the theme presents itself.  This year, Walter shared a different slant on giving thanks, based on Romans 1:20 & 21.  In my own perspective, the message was focused on the results of a life lived without being thankful.  Those who did not give God glory, who did not acknowledge Him, "nor gave thanks to Him..." began to head in dangerous directions.  Why?  Because ungratefulness leads to negative, futile and dark thinking.  And following this path unchecked leads to sin.
This became illustrated more clearly as Walter took us to Exodus 20 and walked through such thought processes with each of the Ten Commandments.  As the verse in Romans stated, if we do not acknowledge and give thanks to the one true God, we will easily slip into allowing "idols" become our objects of worship.  If we are not grateful to the Lord, we will easily misuse His name.  If we are not thankful, we will not consider the Sabbath important.  We will not honour our mother and father and so on...Not being appreciative for what we have will lead to covetousness and stealing. Relationships on all levels will break down.  Selfishness and greed and pride will take over as complaining and bitterness replace thankfulness.  These were powerful and practical examples.
As we ended the Sunday service and transitioned into our Thanksgiving meal, it was wonderful to have our church family pitching in to set up, serve and clean up.  We actually ate a "snack" there and slipped away early to prepare for our family supper to be at 5 pm at our place!  Fifteen people ranging in age from 3 up to 94 shared a turkey dinner and all the trimmings.  We tried something new this year:  I bought a selection of simple gifts and goodies.  Then we each chose a number on little pieces of paper with number 15 going first!  Each person said what they were thankful for and then they could choose a gift.  It was a fun way to focus on our blessings.
By 11 pm the last of the guests headed home and we all crashed for the night.
Today was recovery day.  We slept in, watched football and ate leftovers.  We had a short phone call with Mark and Amy in Steinbach, who were also watching the tragic Roughrider team get destroyed by Montreal Alouettes while cooking a turkey and awaiting company for supper.  Caylea and friends left for Nipawin in the afternoon and Daniel found friends to hang out with.
So, we are left with a few remnants of the weekend lying about the house and some precious memories of Thanksgiving 2014.
Psalm 107:1 "Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; His love endures forever."

As I reflect at the end of today, I have images that flash like video highlights.
Sunshine.
Golden leaves.
Bright, blue sky.
Canada geese flying in V-formation.
Squirrel on the fence.
Freshly painted door, mailbox, house numbers and light fixture, "Ruby Red".
I run through what I accomplished today and a lot of small things filled my day.
Bank, grocery store, post office.
Vacuuming.
Drilling a hole through the floor.
Stringing water line through said hole.
Serving coffee.
Making supper.
And then there was hugging, greetings and chatter as my son came home from work and my daughter and friends came home for Thanksgiving weekend!
I count my blessings
in images
tasks
and family.
Thank You, Lord for today.

Last Sunday at our Healing Hearts Regina staff meeting, I shared that last week could possibly be a tough one for me personally because of the one year anniversary of Dad's admittance to the hospital. I had tried to be proactive in asking for prayer support.  I took time to journal.  I was trying to be aware and prepared for the emotions I anticipated.
Then we got the news of our friends' daughter, Danielle, being declared "brain dead" and their prayerful decision to pull all life support.
For my husband, this was extremely hard-hitting.  He had known this family very well and the closeness of this young girl's age to our own daughter triggered sadness at a deep level.
I felt blind-sided.
In trying so hard to deal with my own grieving, I had no room for someone else's.  I felt completely unable to connect with this family's loss and could not seem to extend comfort to my husband.
We carried on in the week with our ministry which included some counselling, a mission-focus presentation and visiting staff.  By Friday morning, we heard the news of young Danielle's passing and I think our emotions hit an all-time low.
At the very  moment when our guards were down and we were most vulnerable, the enemy of our souls struck.
Hard.
While my husband was experiencing sadness and compassion for another's loss, I reacted to this news and the uncertainty of our schedule with frustration and anger. This left Walter feeling very isolated and alone.  As he shared his feelings, I automatically internalized them as my inadequacy to be supportive and failure to be empathetic.  The enemy had us separated and began to pour lies into my  mind.  My shield of faith was down and my helmet of salvation was hanging by a strap!  So instead of being able to support one another, we seemed divided by grief and anger.
We talked and shared and eventually prayed together, but a heaviness seemed to linger over us.
Our plan was to stay home Friday evening and watch our beloved Roughriders play on television.  Instead of being a quiet, relaxing and enjoyable evening together, that heaviness seemed to increase as our home team played one of their worst games in 20 years!  This may seem trivial and unrelated, but our anger and anxiety grew with the poor playing and mistakes on the football field.
I went upstairs to clean up the kitchen and Walter began playing some solitaire game on his phone.  It was depressing.  But after half-time, I joined him again on the couch and wondered how the second half with our second string quarterback would go...
I had been trying to pray throughout our evening.  I could feel the wall between us and the spiritual cloud over us and prayer didn't seem to break through.  Then a momentum shift in the game turned my focus and we both became more attentive and animated as the Riders got some points on the scoreboard!  Three touchdowns with 2-point conversions had us almost caught up to the rival Calgary Stampeders.
Now, I'd like to say the heaviness broke and the Roughriders won and all was well in our world.
Reality is, that cloud of darkness did seem to break and then I began to pray more earnestly. I could feel a lifting of my spirits and a renewing of my thoughts to more positive and faith-filled directions. (Later we got more details of the memorial service to be held in Calgary and our plans became more clear for the next week or two. )
Today, I sat in our weekly staff meeting and tried to share how my week had gone.  All I could say was that I realized I didn't "do sadness" very well and I got angry with my husband for being able to experience sadness appropriately!  We all kinda laughed, but through some tears, I also felt supported and understood.  Even though I had tried to care for myself, I couldn't anticipate the spiritual attack that came when I was most vulnerable.
I had read Ephesians 4 before church this morning and seemed to interpret everything through a dark and accusatory grid.
"Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving each other, as God in Christ forgave you."
At first, I thought the Lord was rebuking me for not showing kindness and compassion towards my husband, or even towards Danielle's family.  The remnants of self-loathing were trying to creep in from Friday's battle.  But then I reread the verses and I sensed a different tone.  The Lord was telling me to be kind to myself and to be tenderhearted towards my own loss.  I should forgive myself for not being as sensitive and caring as I could have been to my husband.  The Lord forgave me.  He is kind and tenderhearted towards me.  And I want to be ~ and have been in the past ~ caring and compassionate to others in their pain.  So why not treat myself kindly?
The football lesson?  That's for another blog...