Dusting Off This Blog

Speaking of dust, they have an abundant supply in the prairies. As I write this, my nose is recovering from excessive tissue friction. Yes, folks, the Christian life is not a ticket to perfect earthly health or comfort, but it is the promise of future glory. Truth be told, a lot of aspects concerning my transition to full-time studenthood did not happen as I would have planned. Yesterday, after accepting irreconcilable lifestyle differences, one of my roommates moved out leaving me with a room to myself and another guy in the adjacent one. I could go into extensive detail, but that wouldn't be fair to the situation. The pertinent info is this: the guy I was paired with, who happens to boast many virtuous qualities, can't sleep unless he has the windows open and multiple fans blazing. The night before he moved out, I tried to do the Christ-like submit thing and wore a toque to bed (also used winter blanket). But as reality would have it, this is not conducive to my health. Nor is the arid climate or dust in the air, but it doesn't help to stir it up as if trying to FedEX these particles into the nether regions of my lungs. As it happened, this dorm is at half capacity, and my brother in the Lord who could minister quite comfortably in Alaska said he'd prefer to have his own place. I did want at least one roommate, so this matter was put to rest. There are many, many other factors involved here, but I am glad it was handled maturely by all parties. While I will now endeavour to relate some special moments from the last couple weeks here, they must be understood against the story related above. God has been testing us, and it hasn't always been pleasant. But the truth is we serve a God who prefers our eternal comfort (and therefore our spiritual growth) over earthly luxuries. Strangely enough, even God acquiesced when we made it known that the original configuration of our apartment wouldn't carry us until April. But I digress.

A couple days ago, God played something of a joke on me. I know it was him because I could just see it coming. Have you ever been in the midst of a really vivid dream, when suddenly one of the people in your mind's projector turns to you and says, "Heads up, you're about to knock a bunch of stuff on the floor!" It happens really fast, but you immediately leap from the covers in response to some abrupt noise which, upon further inspection, seems to have come from your errant elbow hitting some items on the night table. This is what happened to me in a conscious state the other day when, as I was walking to the point, feeling like an absolute wreck, a cricket was there ahead of me some twelve feet or so. I thought, wouldn't it be funny if he jumped into my sandals. And as I am when I sleep, I wasn't prepared for it; I had just been told ahead of time. My reflexes were probably comical to anyone who might have seen me kick off my sandal and almost fall on my bum in the process. I sort of glanced at the sky and told God it would be nice if He sort of cut me some slack that day. The voice I heard in response said, "You're still under the impression that I'm going to make life easy on you just because you've taken a leap of faith. But part of my faithfulness means developing your perseverance."

Well, point taken, Lord.

So here are the other things I wish to praise Him for, the ones that are easier and more carefree. Not sure which ones are most important, but with God, who can't be over-praised, I'm learning to just live minute by minute.

3 September 2009
I met a friend who will no doubt be a lifelong one, JP. Met him at freshmen chapel and he invited me to Moose Jaw, so I saw Moose Jaw for the first time. He's a little more senior than the average student, so we listened to a lot of nostalgic 90s tunes as we drove down the highway from Caronport. If your mind works like mine does, there was one of those "movie" moments when the camera pans back a little and the characters are seen just staring off into the distance. Even though we can't read thoughts, we just know they're at once reflecting on where they are and yet not harboring a conscious thought at all. The scene itself is what speaks, and that's how it was that day.


5 September 2009
I participated in the annual Briercrest Olympics, which involved some pretty bizarre events. One involved loading as many people as we possibly could into a van (I think we squeezed more than 30 in there) while the remaining members of our dorm pushed the van around a designated race course. We were scored on how many we fit inside and the time it took to run the lap. Another event involved dragging people across an ice surface as they sat on some sporting equipment. We also had to sit on our backs in a circle while someone hopped aboard a dusty mattress, which we then passed around the circle as many times as we could (these were all timed events, by the way). Anyway, at the end of the evening us old fogies took the Cup. I think it's been quite some time since the mature dorm people won the event. It was a great little feather in this life's cap, I'll tell you.


6 September 2009
This was the last day of orientation and we all had to gather for one big assembly in the main sanctuary at the Hildebrand Chapel. (It's cooler than the name suggests, by the way.) We sat through a series of "get to know the profs" interviews, listened to a brief message, and then a motley group of students led worship. (You can't see it, but I'm kind of pausing here for a second and tearing up a bit.) I guess I need to accept that I'll never have words to describe that experience. As someone who is over-analytical and reservedly introverted, it's hard to "let go" in front of others, especially strangers. But I swear this: God's Spirit was so present in that chapel, and so powerful, that I rejoiced in bawling before everyone who saw me. It was like a tidal wave of love just filled my being and overflowed, and I am so tremendously and indescribably blessed to serve a God who is infinitely more than He revealed of Himself that night, but that encounter was enough to convince me He's worth spending an eternity chasing after. I wish I could say more, but it wouldn't suffice.


8 September 2009
Orientation week was brutal. We had so many sessions and workgroups and seminars that a lot of important items were easily overlooked. It took me and the roomies three days to even contact SaskTel, who are the local provider in Saskatchewan. But without question the most important unfinished task by this time was my lack of a volunteer ministry position. I need six such credits to graduate, and because of God so graciously transferring 8 credits toward my degree, I only have six (out of eight) terms to get these credits. Unless I want to go way out of my way to do other things, but that's beside the point. (For the record, I could probably get some references from past experience and get some of these knocked off my checklist, but I want involvement while I'm here.) So I went to my History of Christianity class and one of the first things the prof mentioned was how his church was looking for a Sunday school teacher. He gave me all the relevant contact details, and I should also mention that I have an interview with the senior pastor tomorrow to see whether I'll be a good fit. It's also the same denomination as I attended back home, and while I don't subscribe to their entire roster of doctrines I think this is a confirmation anyway. So God has been overly faithful in providing things I had been overly slack in initiating.

Speaking in general terms now, I would just say that I have met more people in such a compact amount of time than I have so far in life. It's been an incredible experience in which God will no doubt continue to break and refine me for His purposes and my good. In case it's not self-evident, I wouldn't be anywhere else right now. While I miss and have been praying for everyone back home, I am learning something that until now I had just read but never understood. I think it's speaking about how we need to suffer loss to appreciate good gifts, and there might even be a hint of how a grain needs to die to produce a crop:

"For I wrote you out of great distress and anguish of heart and with many tears, not to grieve you but to let you know the depth of my love for you." (2 Corinthians 2:4) (And, yeah, I'm taking this verse slightly out of context. So sue me. :D)