hope/prayer

Prayer for a New Year

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Let us walk over the threshold of this day with new hope.

Let us leave behind the shadows of a dying year, and journey in the light.
Let us press on to what lies ahead, and to the One whose hold will carry us through. 
Let us rise each day to the dawn of His countenance. 
“The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face shine upon you, and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace.” (Numbers 6:24-26)
Happy 2015!
~lg
Christmas/nature/wonder

Christmas Lights

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We drove to North Rustico to look at the lights, and ended up out on the point, past the lighthouse and up the dirt track, with the water on our right and darkened summer cottages on our left. Up to where the dunes parted for the boat launch and the row of rocks stretched out into the sea. We put the windows down and turned the engine off. The kids put their heads out the windows, and so did I. There it was – the sound of the waves.

Sometimes I forget that sound in winter. We don’t think to go to the beach in December. But tonight I’m glad we did. The old roving light illuminated the rocks in its steady sequence from somewhere behind us. We could just make out the white of the breaking water on the sand, and from there out all was dark and the sea and thy sky seemed one dark mystery save for a few stars overhead. Where are the boundaries between heaven and earth anyway?
There are nights when the veil is thin. Holy nights kissed by the salty air. Hushed nights when we turn our revving, striving, sputtering engines off and look out to sea.
We sat eclipsed for just a few minutes, silence peppered with the questions and exclamations of small children out past bedtime. Transcendence can creep up on you when you least expect it. Before we rolled the windows up, the kids called a goodbye to the ocean. “See you in the summer,” they said, and Arden blew a kiss into the night – “I love you.”  

~lg
faith

Solstice

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On this the darkest day, the longest night, I’m left wrestling with an angel who dares me to let go, but I won’t because the morning has not yet broken, and I have not yet been blessed. These angels are not fluffy bundles of feathers and painted smiles. They can put the fear in you and your bones right out of joint. I am tired of this fight, this lengthening night, but I am locked in embrace till I see your face. The light will dawn and you will say my name, and then I will know my contender. Then my limp will be my trophy.
~lg 
freedom/hope/lyrics

Free (lyrics)

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Long my spirit lay with no hope in the darkness
Couldn’t see my way through the shadows of night
Then the Saviour came, stepped right into my sorrow
Lifted up my head, filled this dungeon with light

My chains fell off
My heart was free
And I heard the voice of the Risen One call out to me. . .

Rise up, rise up and follow Him
Cast off the heavy weight of sin
And be free
Free indeed
Rise up, rise up and follow Him
Run to the prize that won’t grow dim
You are free
Free indeed

Bound and broken one – He is hope in the darkness
Weak and weary one – He’s your song in the night
Lost and lonely one – you have not been forgotten
Oh lift up your head, He comes flaming with light

‘Tis mercy all
Immense and free
The amazing love of the Risen One calls out to me. . .

Rise up, rise up and follow Him
Cast off the heavy weight of sin
And be free
Free indeed
Rise up, rise up and follow Him
Run to the prize that won’t grow dim
You are free
Free indeed

Let every chain be broken
Let every heart be free
The curse of sin and death and hell is crushed beneath His feet

(with inspiration from Charles Wesley’s hymn, And Can It Be)
* Acts 12:1-10, Hebrews 12:1-2, Philippians 3:12-14

~lg

hope/north

Memory of a river

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The Slave River, Fort Smith, Northwest Territories

And even in the dead of northwest winter, with a silver hush over all the world, the rapids murmur. There are waters that run so fast they never freeze, never succumb to winter’s sleep. In the silent nights, their voice is heard, the hopeful lullaby of December. Summer’s roar is a powerful whisper still, a testament to the faithfulness of living water. Perhaps it is their music which calls down the northern lights to dance wild rose above the white river. Perhaps it is their music which echoes in the ache of a distant island. Perhaps even these eastern waves and breakers can hear it, a dozen parallels away, singing over Canadian shield to this sandstone, you are not forgotten.
~lg