Time Winding Down in Nova Scotia

Today's been a long day. Actually, this week promises to drag on. But not in the negative sense, more like the make-the-most-of-my-last-two-weeks-at-home sense. Two months ago, before a lesson-filled summer, I had fresh eyes. Nova Scotia was like a dear friend and a chapter of my life that would henceforth never be the same. I was finally striking out (in the on-my-own sense). But then after the pitfalls and habits and tendencies the devil knows about, I spent most of my summer fighting with him. Didn't backslide like last year, but I certainly missed a lot of opportunities this season. And recently God has done a great deal to restore me.

I think it's fitting that I return to blogging with some "embarassing" testimonies. Well, just one but a biggie. As someone who once preached that the best way out of a bad situation is to sing God's praises, I'm going to relate one of the weirdest experiences I've had. Anyone who reads this is likely aware that I had an issue with my kidneys in June. You may also recall that I was convinced God had healed me. Well, I truly did believe it. Today it was confirmed. But sometimes confirmations come in odd forms. In my case it meant a cystoscopy that my doctor referred me to in June. After one cancellation--for which I confess I was relieved--it was rebooked and happened today. If you aren't familiar, I'll save you Googling it. It's a procedure in which a camera is inserted through the urethra until it reaches the bladder. The awkward to pain ratio is 1000:1, easy. And I praise God for yielding both a clean bill of health and heck of a lot of composure throughout the process, from the initial referral to the waiting game to the actual procedure. And now, in a sense, I am fully cleared to move to Saskatchewan.

God's faithfulness can't be put into words, so I might as well throw in very matter-of-factly that my student loan came through yesterday. He continues to provide.

But I guess, if this makes any sense, I'm most grateful for a restored sense of appreciation. On the way home today, after getting up real early, driving to Kentville with an hour and a half to spare, waiting for three hours to get into day surgery, and all that jazz, I had determined to catch up on lost sleep on the way home. (I wasn't driving, as you might deduce.) But I couldn't. I looked out at the rolling hills and farmland in the Annapolis Valley, and I realized just how beautiful this province is. Again, I don't have words, but I would like to zero in on one little observation. I've been trying to allow God to heal me and disciple me in such a way as to restore a child's spirit in me. It's hard to explain, especially to analytical people like me, but I had a really emotional moment at one point. It doesn't bother me that I can't explain why, but I can tell you what prompted it. We were driving through farm country, through rows and rows of cornfields and orchards and, well, anything people grow in the valley. But then we drove past this modest property, that seemed, by all indicators, to consist of a home and a few rows of vegetables. Clearly, whoever lived there wasn't a commercial farmer. But then it hit me: the resident(s) clearly put some faith in God. I don't want to make judgments based on visual cues, but whether or not this person has an ounce of faith, I just can't help but believe they kind of depend on feeding themselves to a certain extent off the land--especially in this down economy. And there are a couple beautiful things about that. First, you lean on the Provider who plants, waters, and grows all life. And second, when you reap a harvest, there just has to be a certain childlike rejoicing. There just has to. I guess I can relate to that because it's precisely who I have to be if I expect to make it out west. Yeah, God did it all. Yes, my family and church have been very supportive. But if I can't lean on God after such a dramatic upheaval of all my comforts and norms and status quos and expectations in life, I never will. Call me crazy, but I believe He will transform me in ways I don't know to ask Him to. It's exciting. You know, in a joyful tear sense.

"We are bringing you good news, telling you to turn from ... worthless things to the living God, who made heaven and earth and sea and everything in them. In the past, he let all nations go their own way. Yet he has not left himself without testimony: He has shown kindness by giving you rain from heaven and crops in their seasons; he provides you with plenty of food and fills your hearts with joy." (Acts 14:15-17)