glimpses of God (last one!)

Here's a photo I took on our first snowfall in December:

angels are everywhere

Wishing you a blessed Christmas with family and friends...

glimpses of God

Here's a glimpse from Michelle in Virginia:

Photo credit: Michelle Gyauch Dzema, Virginia, USA

Michelle writes:

This photo was taken this afternoon as i played with my children outside. it was cold and crisp and the sun shining on everything was glorious. i was struck by the wintering azalea plants in our front yard...how the late afternoon light painted them with a touch of red. i was struck by the beauty of this plant...long past its summer blossoms, yet still a thing of beauty. it caught my eye, it held my attention, it filled me with wonder. for me, this is a glimpse...

Beautiful - photo and reflection. Thank you, Michelle!

May all of you catch more glimpses as you celebrate this 4th week of Advent! 

glimpses of God

Something I love about this time of year is that the trees are so bare that you can see the nests. Squirrel nests, bird nests, wasp nests. Down every street, I spy on the trees seeing what secrets they're revealing.

Here's a beautiful glimpse of God:

Photo credit: Jeanette Seiling, Elora, Ontario

Jeanette writes: "Nests are a heart/soul image for me. At this Advent time, I reflect on how I can make a soft centre in my heart-nest where Christ can be born anew."

Wishing you a great 3rd week of Advent!

glimpses of God

me again. Still looking for small glimpses of God. Are you bored of this yet, or are you seeing some glimpses too?

Here's one glimpse from South Africa.

Karen Suderman writes:

"The mother walking ahead of us looked tired and slightly frazzled, as almost any mother of three would look by the end of the day. I can imagine this was their last stop before going home for the evening. Pick n' Pay, the local grocery store, is the last stop for many on their way home from a busy day. Gathering and herding her children along, her blond hair blowing in the breeze of incoming rain, the mother was working at making this a quick stop.


Coming in the opposite direction, having completed her shopping, was another mother of three. She too looked tired, eager to get home. However, she had encountered a problem. The grocery cart was stuck on a lip of the concrete. Her young daughter pulled with all her might on the front of the cart, her brow furrowed with strain. The mother pushed from the other side of the cart, but to no avail. It was stuck. 


The first mother moved towards the cart and helped the young girl lift it over the lip. It was a simple act. Almost insignificant. But the look of gratitude from the second mother indicated that it was anything but small. 


I love to see moments like this - people reaching out and lending a hand to each other. This incident in the context of South Africa was also significant. It was a white woman who helped a black woman. 


It is wonderful to see these small acts of compassion here. In a country that has such a brutal history of division and oppression along racial lines, it is wonderful to see how people are reaching out in small ways to begin to change that."

And a couple of photos from Karen in South Africa too:

Mpophomeni, South Africa

Zulu homestead, South Africa

Thank you, Karen!

Wishing all of you a wonderful second week of Advent!

a henna miracle

I'm trying to retrain my brain to notice the small miracles around me. Instead of seeing things as weird coincidences, I want to see them as God's gifts - as small miracles. Because once you start looking, this magic really is everywhere. When you have eyes to see.

I want to tell you about a small miracle that happened in our household this past week.

Our Afghan foster daughter, Shegofa, has obtained her refugee status. The next step is for her to get her permanent resident card. This costs $550.

Shegofa does amazing henna designs, so we decided to host a henna party as a fundraiser for her PR card. Some family and friends came - from age 5 to age 70 - and everyone donated as little or as much as they wished. There was no set amount. It was a fun evening.

Photo credit: Open Shutters Photography

Photo credit: Open Shutters Photography

Another friend from church wanted to have a party too, so she hosted one less than a week later. Another fun evening.


At the end of the 2nd party, Shegofa counted up the total money. It was $555.00 altogether. That's weird, we thought. How did the total come so close to the needed amount, with even a little to spare?

We sent my friend a message and she replied, "Isn't God amazing!?" And my tears flowed.

Here we were, in the midst of a small miracle. A magical gift of providence.

None of the women knew how much others were giving or how much still needed to be raised. Enough had been provided - with $5.00 to spare.

I am humbled to experience this, and am grateful that my eyes were opened to see this as God's gift.

Thanks be to God.

glimpses of God

Thank you for the glimpses of God that you've sent my way this week. It's been fun to receive them and to hear descriptions of them too.

For each of the following Mondays in December, I'll be posting more photos. So think/look through your files and send one my way!

Here are the photos from this past week:

Photo credit: Mara Bertelsen, Mirabeau, France

Gorgeous! This makes me want to live in Provence. This is what Mara wrote about this photo:

"The poppies blanket Provence almost overnight every May. One day you're doing something mundane like driving to the grocery store, you turn a corner, and there are fields of red as far as the eye can see. Poppies are whimsical little flowers - they don't last long, but they are hardy in that they are considered a weed and grow where few other things will - out of old stone walls, on piles of rubbish - and take over fields left fallow. Of course, the striking beauty of the poppy fields always makes me think of how they must have contrasted with the horror of Flanders Fields. For me, they are a glimpse of God each spring, reminding me that while there may be strife in the world, the poppies still return faithfully each year."

Photo credit: Carol Penner, Vineland, Ontario

Isn't this beautiful - the wind, the thin curtains billowing, the sunset, the light? The wind is filling up these curtains, but also passing through. Carol says that this photo reminds her of feeling free. I love how this helps us to see the wind.

Photo credit: Wendy Janzen, Kitchener, Ontario

Wendy took this photo of a monarch butterfly that "hatched" from its chrysalis at their house. Her son named the monarch "Coyote" and the experience of seeing a caterpillar transform into a chrysalis and then a butterfly was a wonderful glimpse of God. She took this photo when the butterfly was still inside the glass jar that had mesh netting on top. Here's what Wendy wrote: "One thing I like about this is the blurry perspective the glas creates - my glimpses of God are rarely crystal clear!" Beautiful. Brings back memories of our own butterfly experiences.

Photo credit: Daniel Listijabudi, Jogjakarta, Indonesia

Daniel took this photo of a "halo" around the sun. We called these rainbows "sun dogs" growing up, but I've never seen a full rainbow circle around the sun. Must have been amazing! I love the sunshine streaming in from the corner of this photo, and the light through the leaves.

Thank you!

glimpses of God

This year I wrote a Christmas play for our church called "Detectives of Divinity." I got the idea from a song written by Bryan Moyer Suderman. The chorus goes:

We are detectives of divinity,
we're looking all around
for signs of God's activity
wherever they are found.
God is up to something,
of that we can be sure.
So start the investigation!
The clues are everywhere.

It's a very fun song and it's been playing over and over at our house. I love this idea - that God is with us and active, and that there are little clues to be found everywhere. I gave the kids an assignment for the next month - to find these little clues and report back what they find.

So I've decided to do the same thing. Every Monday til the end of December (I think, but we'll see...) will be "glimpses of God" day on this here blog.

This past week, two people sent me photos of their glimpses of God. Here they are:

Photo credit: Sharon Bauman, St. Jacobs, Ontario

Isn't this leaf print incredible? I love seeing these on the sidewalks - such a sign of life, and a little bit mysterious looking too. A great clue.

Here's another:

Photo credit: Marcie Klassen, Vancouver, BC

I've tried photographing rainbows before, but it's tricky. Then add people + rainbow, and it's even trickier! It's so hard to capture all those colours. I love the light and dark in this photo. Can you see the excitement the boys are feeling?

If you're inclined to email me a photo of a glimpse of God, please do! I'd love to see the clues you're finding too. Start the investigation!

glimpses of God

Look for God in unexpected places...

You just might even see a johnny jump-up blooming in late fall.

breaking jars

Saint Teresa of Avila wrote “All concepts of God are like a jar we break, because only the infinite can contain our perfect love.” 

Do you have a certain picture of God? I do. Sure, there's the old man with a beard sitting on a throne. But more than that, I can sometimes think of God as a measuring stick. And I don't always measure up. Not a very uplifting image of God. 


A couple of years ago, I had some dreams that were striking. At the time, I was getting down on myself for something or other. And I was missing my grandma, who had died several years before. 


One week I dreamed about my grandma 3 nights in a row. On the first night, I dreamed that I tried to hug her, but my hands went right through her. Then the second night, the hug worked. I felt it. On the third night, there were no hugs, just warm, hospitable laughter.


After that 3rd night, I went for a morning walk. Why was I dreaming these dreams? I didn't get it. It just made me miss my grandma even more. 


But then as I walked, it struck me suddenly. So suddenly that I started to cry. This could be my image of God. My grandma, who always warmly welcomed me. Where I always felt like I was enough. I measured up. But with her, it wasn't even about measuring. It was about being - talking, sitting, visiting, quilting, painting, baking, laughing. Perfect love. 


So for me, God is like a grandma. 


There. A new image. A jar broken.