February 28th

The events of February 28th will be forever etched in my mind.  

It is a date that is as easy to remember as my birthday or my wedding anniversary.  Much like certain smells or songs transport me back to a specific time and place, just hearing the date, February 28th, brings back powerful emotions.

In 2000, my wife, Anita, and I began fertility treatments to kick-start our family.  It had been discovered after a couple of years of trying, that I had some lazy swimmers that could not penetrate the walls of the eggs being produced.  The treatments were extremely hard on Anita but on the second attempt (November), we found out that we were successful.

Most couples enjoy their pregnancy but we were ecstatic!  We were taking pictures, we were looking at everything we had to do to prepare for the arrival, telling everybody who had been following our infertility journey and of course, thanking God for this miracle.

We had the added difficulty of planning a 5000 km (3000 miles) trip from Vancouver, British Columbia to Ottawa, Ontario that would take place about 1 month after the arrival of our bundle of joy.  This so we could be closer to some of my wife's family and to start a new role within my company.  This required that we put our house up for sale in January of 2001.

The pregnancy was going great.  The ultrasound displayed a quickly growing baby and we heard the insanely quick heartbeat.  Anita started changing her wardrobe and enjoyed eating for two.

In February, we started to hit some complications.  She started bleeding every so often.  This concerned us and generated a middle of the night trip to the emergency room, but we were told that everything was fine.  Our doctor wasn't greatly concerned but she told Anita to stay home on bed rest at the end of February.

February 28th, 2001. We lost our miracle child.

To say the experience was tough would be a perverse understatement.  The next few days morphed into months.  While I started to rebound, the loss was much harder on Anita.  We couldn't visit or be around anyone pregnant or with babies.  Some of our well-meaning friends thought it would be a good idea for her to hold their child - they just didn't get the depth of the pain we had experienced.

And over the next year, God healed us and turned our day of mourning into a day of celebration.

What was very hard to see at the time was God's involvement in the whole process.  While we lost our miracle child and we will never know why in this lifetime, He took care of details that could only be what I call 'Confirming Circumstances'.  Confirming Circumstances are a series of events that individually might be considered a coincidence, but together are so much more.

This story is very hard to tell, let alone write.  It is long and it is emotional.  I apologize if you are a first time reader but this will be a very "to the point" synopsis of the events that took place over the year.  

The Earthquake

At 10:50 am February 28th, 2001, Vancouver experienced the first noticeable earthquake that I could remember.  I was sitting in a downtown office watching the window blinds start to sway and clash against the windows.  We all exited the building without issue and were allowed back in shortly thereafter.  There were no structural damage reports for the city but phone lines were not functioning.

After about an hour of trying to call Anita, I jumped into the car and headed the 40 minutes home to make sure she was okay.  Shortly after I arrived home, her water broke.

Availability

The phones were now working.  We called our doctor who was near our old home 45 minutes away.  She told us to get to the hospital near her office and she would meet us there.  How many doctors drop their schedules to do that?  She by-passed the wait lines and we were seeing a specialist right away.

While we were at the hospital, I called a few friends for support.  They weren't answering their phone.  I finally called a good pastor friend without hope as he never answered his phone.  He answered on the first ring and was at the hospital with his wife within a few minutes.

Comfort

The doctors suggested that we stay close to the hospital as there would be some procedures that needed to be performed.  Our friends cleared their schedule and hosted us for the next few days until we were well enough to go home again.

The Retreat

Over the next couple of months, we sank into a depression.

The doctors had done their analysis of what had happened and determined that a simple aspirin every day would have thinned the blood enough to prevent the miscarriage.  After having been told that we did not want to know the sex of the baby, it came out that it was a girl.  We started envisioning what could have been.

Our home wasn't getting any viewings to be sold.  We started to question why we were moving.  And of course, we were wondering why God would bless us with a child to then take the child away.

Our close friends from church were all moving in separate directions literally and figuratively.  The ladies agreed to attend a last retreat in April as a group.

A Message

During that weekend, Anita got a message from God.  Our friend Tanya told her during a special time alone, that she had a message from God.  She didn't understand why it was important but she knew she had to say it.

The message was simply "God loves you. He wants you to know how much He loves you".

Anita started crying which quickly turned into sobs.

She had translated the loss of our child into 'God doesn't love me'.  How did Tanya know this?  Anita hadn't told anyone, including me.  She was carrying this burden with her which was dragging her deeper into depression.

Some time passed between Anita and Tanya of praying and praising God.  Then Anita told Tanya about our concerns about moving and the difficulty of selling our home.

Tanya emphatically said, "NO, you have to go to Ottawa! That is where your children are".  (Notice the plural?)

Anita got home from the retreat on Sunday a different person.  While not completely healed, the recovery had begun.

Later that evening we had a call from the real estate agent.  We had two offers on the house.  We sold the house the next day.

The Move

The next number of months was dedicated to getting ready to move and saying good-bye to our many friends. Talking about the next steps for our family was avoided.  We enjoyed a long drive across the country visiting friends and different places, all the while still healing.

The Session

In late September 2001, we heard about an adoption information session.  At this point, neither of us had ever considered adoption as an option.  We attended the session and then proceeded to fill out the paperwork to start the home study.

In late January 2002, we were given approval to be adoptive parents.  On February 14th, we were told we were matched with 2 little boys!

The Meeting

The anticipation to meet the boys was unbelievable but before we could meet the boys, we had to learn about their social history with the various social workers involved.  And then we were encouraged to have a 'blind meeting' where we could see the boys in a public place without them knowing we were there.  As we were getting ready to go to that, Anita slipped on some ice and we ended up at the hospital.

A few more days of bed rest, oddly exactly one year later.

Soon, Anita recovered and after much discussion and praying, we decided that we didn't need a blind viewing.  They were a gift from God!

We told the social workers that we wanted to go ahead, start the process and set the appointment for the first meeting.

Even as I write this, the emotions that we were experiencing as we waited in the van just outside their foster home, are running through me; shaking with excitement and nervousness, tears running down my face.

Will they like us?  How do we introduce ourselves?  What do we say?

As we are waiting in the van, two little faces peep through the window and we hear screams of "It's our new Mommy and Daddy!".

February 28th, 2002.  God introduces us to our two little boys.  

Tonight we are going out to celebrate as we do every year, the miracle of our family.

It isn't your normal family but it is our family and I wouldn't change a thing.  Like every family, we have had our challenges and continue to have them.  

But for tonight, we will enjoy a nice dinner with both of our sons reminiscing the past 11 years.

How do you celebrate the miracle of your family?

Our First Meeting

February 28th, 2002

February 28th, 2013
Not the best picture but all together at least!

__________________________________________________

Thank you for taking the time to read one of the many Wandering Thoughts that God has been putting on my heart. If this has touched you in anyway, I would love to hear from you. You can leave a comment below and share your own personal revelations; or send me a personal message on Google+ or Facebook.

If you enjoyed this, please sign up here for email updates to never miss another Wandering Thought.

Have a wonderful day.

Fields of Grace (Guest Post)

David is a fellow blogger who I've connected with through our mutual love of playing worship music.  Reading his story of how he was transformed from a struggling guitarist to a worship leader resonates with me.  His story was offered to me as part of the Confirming Circumstance series.  You can read more of his journey at Get 'Em Tiger! You may also enjoy how he went from being an atheist/agnostic to a Christian (Why I am a Christian)

____________________________________________________

Fields of Grace by David Bouchard

I remember that night like it was yesterday. I was at a turning point in my walk with Christ.

Danny was standing at that back of the sanctuary with me. The two of us sometimes ducked in to hear the band warming up. The sounds of one of my favorites--the almost raucous, almost irreverent strains of Darrell Evan's "Fields of Grace"--filled the room.

Music has always been a powerful force in my life. The music that entered my life through these guys during my new and growing life with Christ was no different. They stood up there nonchalantly rehearsing these transformational songs, unaware that we were lurking in the shadows soaking it in.

At this point in my life, I was seeking a place to serve in the ministry. I knew I was ready, I had felt the call. I was overflowing with new life. Danny turned to me, somewhat out of the blue, and asked, "If you could do any kind of service, no excuses, what would it be?"

I flashed him a mischievous smile and pointed to the band. "I'd be up there, leading others in worship."

But there were excuses. I had owned a guitar since I was 13 and knew a lot of chords. There was a key piece that hadn't clicked and I still really couldn't play any real songs. I also couldn't sing. Or didn't sing. Probably both. At family gatherings, my dad and I would stand in the back and move our lips while the rest of the family sang Christmas songs. For me to lead worship would take a series of miracles.

Flash forward. At work, a buddy of mine knew a guy that was wanted to jam at lunch. My friend and I weren't any good, but this guy was patient. He was a self-taught singer and guitar player, specializing in honky tonk. When he taught me to play "Here's a quarter, call someone who cares" it was like the heavens opened and the angels were singing. I still didn't even dare to dream that I would be a worship leader some day. But I could play a song.

More time passed. My wife's grandpa, Ed, had been a music man his whole life. He used to play the fiddle and guitar at barn dances when he was 13. For as long as I had known him, he wanted us to play together. I never could. I wasn't good enough. In his later years, his health declined and he relocated to a house closer to mine. He had broken his shoulder in a fall and couldn't play anymore. I was armed with a slew of country songs and a few church songs, so I'd gather the family and head over. We'd stay for hours, just strumming and singing. It was amazing how many songs he still knew word for word, even as his body betrayed him and gave out.

Ed's wife, Nona, approached me about Ed's guitar. The only guitar I had ever seen him play was a Korean one with a rounded plastic back. She knew I was a Martin man (though I didn't own one). She asked if I'd like to play Ed's old Martin sometime. I humored her and said sure. I'll play about anything. I seriously underestimated her, assuming she didn't know a Martin from an knock-off Ovation. I was wrong. A few weeks later she brought a late 80s D-18 up from their old place. A few months later I was playing "Red River Valley" on it by Ed's side as he took his final breath. It was one of the most significant experiences in my life.

My life went on. After all those hours playing for Ed and the family, I had quite a repertoire built up. I had this music in me but no outlet for it.

One thing led to another. The ministry I served experienced a few changes. The worship leader allowed me to sit in with him, teaching me a bit of what he knew. It was uncomfortable...completely outside my comfort zone. But it worked. God's hand was on it and it worked.

After more transitions, we found ourselves without a worship leader again. I'm not a great musician. I'm not as talented as these other guys. But I had been singing, playing, and making joyful noises for a couple of years. God had been preparing me. He didn't prepare me by giving me an abundance of talent, he prepared me by giving me just enough skill while aligning my heart to His purpose. Full of anxiety and doubt sprinkled with faith, I stepped into the role.

He blessed it. I led worship for that ministry every Friday night for over a year. And He blessed it. Our band was defined more by a heart for God than by our talent. I learned how to truly surrender to God during that time. The weeks that I thought I had it together turned out dreadful. The weeks I didn't have a hope of it being any good were amazing. The spirit of God would fill the place. People would walk out of a worship experience different than when they walked in. God taught me to empty myself of myself to allow Him to fill me and work through me.

Like so much of my life, I can look back on how God's hand was on me the whole time. He began weaving that thread into my soul when I was very young, listening to John Denver, James Taylor, the Beatles, and the muppets. He used my rebellious love of metal, industrial, and punk to expand my versatility. He guided me into deeper intimacy with him through worship and praise music. And then he allowed me the honor of leading others into the same place.

It's been almost two years since we ended that ministry. That means it's been almost two years since I've led worship regularly. Last Friday night, I had the opportunity to lead worship again. This time it was alongside one of those men that were playing that night years ago in the sanctuary with Danny. This time, we played and worshiped together for about two hours. The spirit was moving through me once more as I finished up one of my favorites...the almost raucous, almost irreverent Crowder version of "Like a lion". He turned to me and said, "I know we didn't practice this one, but I'm really feeling 'Fields of Grace'. Are you up for that?"

God led me down this long, winding, miraculous road. Any doubt of God's hand directing my steps were erased as together we belted out "There's a place where I sing new songs of praise..."

David Bouchard

Get 'Em Tiger!

__________________________________________________

Thank you for taking the time to read one of the many Wandering Thoughts. If this has touched you in anyway, I would love to hear from you. You can leave a comment below and share your own personal revelations; or send me a personal message on Google+ or Facebook.

If you enjoyed this, please sign up here for email updates to never miss another Wandering Thought.

Have a wonderful day.

The Fly Fart

"Have you ever smelt a fly fart?"

The attendees and I started laughing.  What could be better?  A room full of men and our speaker, Doug, talking about farts.  This was going to be good.

"My neighbor has the ability to smell a fly fart.  Anything that smelled odd, he would let you know.  One very hot day - you know the type where all the windows are open hoping for some sort of breeze?  Well, we had a problem with our septic system."

Now for my readers who live in the city, a septic system is where the country folk collect all the sewage from the home that eventually needs to be emptied.  You know, the crap?  

This was getting better and better by the minute. Farts. Excrement.  Where was this talk going?

"We had the septic guy with his overalls come to the house. As he lifted the lid to the septic tank, all we heard was thunk, thunk, thunk..."

Doug takes a moment to settle his laughter; he is enjoying this as much as we are.

"My neighbor was running around closing all the windows as fast as he could."

More laughter as we think about this poor guy, with a sensitive nose, running around trying to block out the smell.  Can you imagine how extra potent it would be lifting the lid off of a sewage container on a very hot and humid day?

NASTY!

Doug waits a few moments for the laughter to subside.  

"Now imagine if we could open up our hearts and look inside.  What sort of crap and excrement would we find?  How bad would it smell?"

You could hear a pin drop.  As guys, we carry our burdens.  We lock them away from our friends, our wives and even God.  We think we can control it and manage it.  We try to reason with ourselves that like a septic tank, it is best to keep the lid on it.  

We are all carrying a septic tank inside of us.  It will fill up.  It will turn foul.  It doesn't just go away.

What do we think would happen if we did open our hearts and exposed the nastiness to the world?  Would we discover that we had neighbors with sensitive noses who run away?  Or would we discover that we have friends with overalls willing to dig into the excrement of our hearts?

Jesus is always wearing His overalls.

The talk ended and we were all very challenged.  A little later in the day, a smell began to permeate the room.  

Now ladies, while we were in a room full of guys on a retreat, the stench was not coming from the guys. It was coming from the bathrooms in the room beside us.  The septic system wasn't working!  

Coincidence?  I think not.  Another example of a "Confirming Circumstance".

The day continued, and we heard a back-hoe (tractor) digging a hole just outside the room we were in.  After we finished, we walked outside to find the tank and pipes exposed.  There was a blockage; none of the crap was getting through.  

A church friend, Kelvin, who played a pivotal role in "The Reluctant Attendee", was one of the first to go and investigate. 

Later that evening, we had chapel time.  The discussion and imagery of the septic system came back up.  We were challenged to clean it out. To invite Jesus, with His overalls, to step into the mess with us and clear the blockage.  

There was a lot of cleaning done that night.  

As we dealt with the filth at our own pace, we slowly left the chapel.

Towards the end of the time, Kelvin got up to leave but he hadn't completed the cleaning.  Before he could leave, Doug (the speaker) asked to speak with him.  

"Kelvin, I need to tell you something.  My talk today was not going to be about fly farts.  God told me to tell that story today and He told me you needed to hear it.  He wants you to open the lid of your heart and let Him get rid of what’s blocking your relationship with Him. Why won’t you just let God love you?"

Kelvin invited the guy with the overalls in to help him clean out the crap.  

Do you have a friend with overalls?  Do you let Him in?

__________________________________________________

Thank you for taking the time to read one of the many Wandering Thoughts that God has been putting on my heart. If this has touched you in anyway, I would love to hear from you. You can leave a comment below and share your own personal revelations; or send me a personal message on Google+ or Facebook.

If you enjoyed this, please sign up here for email updates to never miss another Wandering Thought.

Have a wonderful day.

A Question of Control

I am sitting with Robb in a cramped and busy coffee shop as far away as possible from everyone for the difficult conversation we are about to have. He asks me the questions I am expecting to hear.

"Have I done anything to offend you? Are you avoiding me?"

My response. "You've done nothing wrong. The reason we aren't talking is because there is nothing ever wrong with you."

Yep, that was it. Robb is one of those guys that never seems bothered. Things could be going drastically wrong all around him and you would never know it when you talk to him.  Do you have any friends like that? Really annoying!  

I was the complete opposite. I've been sharing my struggles with him for years and the previous 18 months had been especially bad. It was to the point that I didn't want to talk to people who had nothing wrong in their lives. I wanted to be talking to people who could relate to my struggles and who were sharing their own struggles with me.

Being with someone who didn't struggle made me feel inferior.

He sat there and thought about what I said for quite some time. Finally he said, "I guess it is because I don't worry about things I can't control. I do what I can with what I can control but once it is out of my hands, I let it go."

That talk has taken close to nine months to fully sink in.

While we were having that talk, I was dealing with anger. Most of my friends and co-workers wouldn't have realized how angry I was but my family and close friends knew it. Unfortunately, my anger would surface at home in any disagreement or disappointment causing me to raise my voice and say unpleasant things.

I was trying to pretend I didn't have a problem, but deep down I knew it was bad and getting worse.

The anger was the result of things happening in my life that were out of my control.  Things I thought I should be able to control but could not.

Sitting here nine months later, I don't have any of those same feelings.  I don't think my circumstances have changed drastically in the past year but my view on life has.  In fact, I am becoming one of those annoying people!

The realization of this reminded me of the conversation with Robb and his ability to release control. To allow God to take the rightful role of problem solver in my life and to release all my worries over to Him. It doesn't mean I'm perfect yet (or ever will be) but I work on things I can control and focus my energies there.

This past week our family had dinner with Robb's family. I had just helped him empty the contents of one of his stores into the warehouse. After running a retail clothing chain successfully for many years and struggling for the past 2 years to make a profit, his three stores were closing their doors due to changes in the purchase patterns of his clients.  Things out of his control.

Most people I know would have been in mourning and worrying about their future.  Perhaps getting upset at the lack of control that they had regarding the situation.

Not his family.

They were celebrating everything God had provided. A family business that had been run by multiple generations for 75 years opening many opportunities for them. The relationships with current and former employees who continually tell them how much working for their company has blessed them. For all the financial blessings that came with owning their business and the freedom it gave them to spend extra time with their children.

The dinner was a happy family meal looking forward to what God had in store for them next.

And trusting God to control the things they can't.

Are you trying to control something that you can't?


__________________________________________________

Thank you for taking the time to read one of the many Wandering Thoughts that God has been putting on my heart. If this has touched you in anyway, I would love to hear from you. You can leave a comment below and share your own personal revelations; or send me a personal message on Google+ or Facebook.

If you enjoyed this, please sign up here for email updates to never miss another Wandering Thought.

Have a wonderful day.

Around The Bend

One winter, a large group of us strapped on our snowshoes and headed out on an adventure.  We ranged in age from forty-something (me) down to a few months old.  Needless to say, varying degrees of experience.

We set off from our cottage along an old overgrown logging road, past the tree house that I built with my boys, up a rocky creek bed, through some more forest and eventually to the remnants of Beaver Lake (Are We Beavers?).

At this point, the adventurous side of many of the party had been lost.  About half the party headed back to the warmth of the fire in the cottage to enjoy a nice cup of hot chocolate.

Now we were left with the real adventurers!  The ones who were ready to take on anything!

"Where should we go now?"

With confidence, I pronounced that if we follow the valley at the end of the lake, it would take us to another lake that hooked up with another path that we could follow back to the cottage.  Truthfully, I wasn't certain of this but I believed it to be the case.

So we headed off confidently down the valley.  There were seven of us left.  Two of our adventurers were strapped to our backs as they were just a few months old.

Our most recent adventure
Around The Bend

The valley quickly became challenging.  The two men (also carrying the youngest members of the expedition)  started to separate themselves from the others as we broke trail trying to find the easiest way to navigate the fallen trees, rocky outcroppings and large sink holes from the small stream.

The adventurers started to get strung out and eventually cries could be heard from the back of the pack asking "Are we almost there?".

Trying to be as encouraging as possible, I would call back (frequently), "It's just around the bend".  But again truthfully, I had no idea.

The memory of this snowshoeing expedition reminds me of when Jesus speaks about the wide and narrow gates during the sermon on the mount:

“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." - Matthew 7:13-14

We all come into life the same way.  Like the babies on our backs for expedition, our paths are defined by our families, where we live and the societies around us.  As we grow older, we come to a point where the choices become ours to make.

We all have the choice to take the wide and easy road (back to the cottage for some hot chocolate) or down the narrow road where adversity exists (around the never-ending blasted bend!).

Just because we have chosen the narrow road, does not mean our struggles are over.  It may even seem like it is a never ending battle that gets tougher.  

I read an older book this past summer called  "The Pursuit of Holiness".  While there were many great things that I learned in that book, the one thing that stuck with me is that the closer we think we are getting to holiness, the farther away we realize it is.

This is true in just about any pursuit!  As I've become a better guitar player, I now know how much more I need to learn.  Any top athlete will spend hundreds of hours to improve their abilities for just a slightly improved result.

As Christians, we will be forever on the hike climbing over logs and rocks, navigating steep cliffs, watching for holes and encouraging others to do the same.

But it is what is around the bend that awaits us that keeps us going.  The promise of an eternal life.  Of treasures that are beyond anything that we can imagine on earth.  A life in heaven.

Have you made the choice yet?  Have you decided to take on the adventure and go through the narrow gate?  

It is as simple as saying these words:

"Lord Jesus, I repent of my sin. I believe that you died on Calvary's cross so that I could be forgiven and brought into a saving relationship with God. I invite you to be Lord of my life."

__________________________________________________

Thank you for taking the time to read one of the many Wandering Thoughts that God has been putting on my heart. If this has touched you in anyway, I would love to hear from you. You can leave a comment below and share your own personal revelations; or send me a personal message on Google+ or Facebook.

If you enjoyed this, please sign up here for email updates to never miss another Wandering Thought.

Have a wonderful day.

Was It Meant To Be? (Guest Post)

Belinda blogs at I Don't Wanna Go To Church.  When she isn't blogging, she is designing graphics and websites, playing taxi and a Jill of all trades.  She has been a great source of encouragement to me as I've started blogging.  For the Confirming Circumstance series, she offered to share one of her many stories. I'm sure you will enjoy this love story.

____________________________________________________

Was It Meant To Be? by Belinda Forgy

They say everything happens for a reason. Some people agree wholeheartedly and some disagree vehemently. I just tell the story of Clint and I.

We met in an internet chat room over 15 years ago and after months of chatting we finally met in real life at a truck stop (this will be funny later) in my home town. What we discovered about our past lives without each other, makes me believe that we were always meant to be with each other. Here are a few of my Confirming Circumstances:

• He lived in N Kansas City around the same time I was frequenting the area with friends. We were probably at the same parties and never knew it. 
• He and his first wife had three beautiful sons; I had three miscarriages, all near the times of his son's births (1st son b 1986, my 1st loss was early '87; 2nd son born 1989, my 2nd loss was early 1989; my daughter was born in Jan 1991, 3rd son was born June 1991 and my 3rd loss was Mar 1992) 
• He always dreamed (literally) of having a curly-haired, brown-eyed daughter; I had one 
• He almost moved to Houston, Texas but his wife at the time didn't want to be that far from her parents so they moved to Columbia, Missouri; I would not have met him in real life if they had moved anywhere other than Columbia 
• As a small child I always day dreamed about my dad (who was not in my life) being a truck driver and coming to take me away; after we were married, Clint became a truck driver (after dealing with some spiritual issues of his own!) 

Now again, these are just some of the circumstances I'm willing to share, but we are both still amazed how we never met earlier since so much of our lives overlapped for years and years! My three inherited sons are truly like my own and Clint has been a great dad to his inherited daughter. I could sit and cry over all the years we were obviously not obeying God in our lives, or I can rejoice in the fact that no matter what we humans screw up, God continues to work in us for His will!

Belinda Forgy
I Don't Wanna Go To Church

__________________________________________________

Thank you for taking the time to read one of the many Wandering Thoughts. If this has touched you in anyway, I would love to hear from you. You can leave a comment below and share your own personal revelations; or send me a personal message on Google+ or Facebook.

If you enjoyed this, please sign up here for email updates to never miss another Wandering Thought.

Have a wonderful day.

Are We Beavers?

At our cottage, there is a little hike that gets us to a clearing that was once a small lake. The lake was the result of a few busy beavers that had blocked a small stream. Over a few decades the stream became a lake that we called 'Beaver Lake' for lack of anything else more original!

One summer night, we had a tremendous amount of rain in a few short hours.  The water breached the top of the dam and started to flow over it. The beaver dam that had been built over many years was destroyed leaving a gaping hole in the damn that had been 5 to 6 feet wide, 30 to 40 feet long and up to 6 feet high.

Natural Beaver

An impressive sight being able to walk all around it and see the work that was put into it.

And now the lake no longer exists.

As impressive as the beaver dam was, it wasn't natural.  It wasn't meant to be there.  The field that now exists, was once full of trees. With the dam and the collection of water, all of the natural vegetation slowly died and disappeared. But now with the dam gone, there is a field of dead stumps, rocks and little streams.

Are we beavers?

If you picture it, our heart is like the stream.  God's love is meant to pour through us like water.  It's not to be stored up, it is to be reflected in our daily actions towards our family members, friends and even complete strangers.

Sin becomes the branches for the damn.  We are the busy beavers hoarding the sin and building the dam into an impressive wall that causes God's love to be a trickle instead of the unending flow it is meant to be.

Sin isn't meant to stay in our hearts.  It isn't natural.  God didn't have this in His plan for us.  It is our choice to hold onto the sin.

And like it or not, the sin often becomes an obsession like the 'precious' ring Gollum so loved in the Lord of the Rings.

Why do we hold onto sin?

That is a question I am still grappling with.

Often, I know I'm making a poor choice but I continue to do it just "because".  

Sometimes I continue to sin because not sinning would be admitting that I was sinning in the first place! How is that for messed up logic?!

The biggest challenge is that I don't think it is a sin.  I believe LIES.  The lies I tell myself to justify the sin. The lies that are generated from social conditioning.  The perverse reasoning I apply to make it seem okay.  Lies that are half-truths and create confusion more than clarity. The lies that make me believe I am doing good when I am not.

How does the dam break?

Like the beaver dam, it often takes a torrential storm in our life to break the dams in our hearts.  A storm that breaches the walls of our self-made dam to the point where we think we have lost everything.

The loss of a job.
The breakdown of a marriage/long relationship.
A financial crisis.
The death of a loved one.
A lengthy illness.
A failed adoption.
Sexual abuse.
Infidelity.
Addictions.

When the dam does break, we have the choice to rebuild the dam or to keep the stream free of debris.

We have the choice to use the pieces of that destruction to build yet another dam;  the hurt, the anger, the bitterness, the resentment.

Or we can let the pieces float away.

What happened to Beaver Lake?

Caspian (our dog) surveying
the remnants of Beaver Lake.

Our summer walks to the remnants of Beaver Lake, brings us into a new world.

What was an unnatural field of stumps and rocks is now a field full of flowers. We can sit and close our eyes listening to thousands of bees busy doing their work.  Or breath deeply and enjoy the fragrance of all the flowers.

The destruction of the unnatural has been turned into something beautiful.

God does the same thing with our hearts.  With the sin gone, we become new creations.  Our slates are wiped clean. The result is a joy that is contagious and liberating.

Do you have a dam that needs to be cleared?

__________________________________________________

Thank you for taking the time to read one of the many Wandering Thoughts that God has been putting on my heart. If this has touched you in anyway, I would love to hear from you. You can leave a comment below and share your own personal revelations; or send me a personal message on Google+ or Facebook.

If you enjoyed this, please sign up here for email updates to never miss another Wandering Thought.

Have a wonderful day.