The Love Note

This morning our summer Sunday program, Power Kids, started.  I had brought in a real double-edged sword, and a beautiful love letter that smelled wonderful.  I shared with the kids about the Bible being God's love letter to us, and that it is living and active - sharper than any sword.  

I told thiestory of when Dean and I used to write love letters to each other all the time.  We lived 4 hours apart while we were dating, so we wrote an awful lot.  Dean would spray his cologne on his letters and I'd add a dab of perfume to mine.  You could close your eyes and pretend the other person was in the room with you for a few moments as you smelled the love letter.

Then I shared how we met at Circle Square Ranch, and Dean would let me wear his jacket around the campfire.  Sometimes he would tuck little love notes in the different pockets for me to find... and that's kind of like when God sends a friend to listen, or a "coincidence" to brighten your day, or someone does something special for you.  That's Father showing his love letter to you, because He says "every good and perfect gift comes from the Father above."  These little unexpected highlights are God's "love notes" tucked into the pockets of your life. 

Well, as we were waiting in Winnipeg airport this afternoon to fly east, the only seat for Madison and I was beside a man that looked like cross between a regular dad and a safari adventurer (turns out he ACTUALLY was on safari once!).  This man told me about his many, many flights to many different continents around the world.  He shared about a pilot in the Caribbean climbing onto the wing of the plane with a metal toolbox and tinkering for a bit before they could take off.  He told me about being in a 6-seater plane in an electrical storm over the ocean.  He told me God always took care of him as he did work for World Vision and travelled 6 months of the year. 
Then he got up to get on the plane.
Madison and I waited till everyone else had boarded, and went to find our seats.  And surprise!  Here was my new friend waiting in our row!

When the turbulance picked up, I panicked and involuntarily reached across Madison's seat and grabbed his sleeve.  He had his earbuds in, and quickly pulled them out to look at me.  "Are we okay?"  "Is this normal?"  I must have sounded desperate.  No matter how many times I fly, I just HATE the feeling of turbulance.  It feels wrong no matter how many flights I sit through. 

I wish I knew this man's name.  He was so kind and reassuring, "This plane can withstand at least 25 times what we are in now.  This is very normal for Ontario airspace.  Let me tell you about the time...."  And off he went on an interesting tale that took my mind off the discomfort of the flight.

As we began our descent into Toronto, he shared about his work with his own businesses, his work with World Vision, and that his wife (although sick with 4th stage cancer) still ran a successful ballet costume design business and a Pregnancy Crisis Center in Montreal - the only Christian Centre around there.

He finally said, "It's not about numbers.  It's not about success.  Life is about obedience."  He helped a few other people get their carry-on luggage down before he left to catch his connection, and we left to catch ours.

And I thought - That was someone Father sent as a love note tucked into my day. 
And then I thought - But His WORD is His love note, so what part of His Word was this about?
And immediately Father said, "I will never leave you.  I am with you always." 

I know I was never in any real danger.  I know my panic and adrenaline is rather uncalled for.  I know I still would have landed safely in Toronto, and then in Charlottetown without this man in my life.  But I'm so glad Father chooses to walk with me in a tangible way even in this simple thing.

People change

People change.
We like to remember a certain circumstance or event and label someone based on their behavior or words at that time.
But I don't think that's fair...
People change (hopefully).


Dean told me the funniest story this evening. 
We had some good friends over, and we got talking about hockey - then the Jets - then the cost of tickets - which led to the good ol' days - then to back when Dean was living California and his family had season tix to the King's games.


"I got to go to the games whenever I wanted,"  he boasted.  Then amended that with, "Well, at least whenever my dad or uncle was working or didn't want the seats - then I could go whenever I wanted to."


Dean told us about a time when he caught the puck - these were the days before plexiglass and protective nets.
He was at the King's game in LA. He heard the slapshot, and in reflex ducked as the puck shot just past his head - but he forgot in that instant that a blind lady always sat right behind his seat.  He heard a thwack  and a wailing and people came rushing to help the woman behind him.


But this trauma happening behind Dean was all part of his peripheral memory - what was DEAN doing while all this was going on?  He was buried head first up to his shoulders behind his seat digging for the puck where he'd heard it roll after rebounding off of the blind lady's shins.


Only when he had jumped up victoriously and was waving the  puck and yelling "I got it!" (no doubt hoping to get a glimpse of himself on the jumbo-tron), did he become conscious of the damage done to the sight-impaired ticket holder one row back.


He sheepishly sat down - but did he offer the puck to the wounded fan who still didn't know what had hit her?
Well - he never exactly said, but I happen to know he has a King's game puck stashed in a box in the basement.  I'm just sayin'... 


But as I sat their laughing - really people, you should hear my husband tell a story (well, rather you should just watch his face while he tells a story) - you'd laugh too...
But as I was laughing I thought, "That's so NOT Dean." 


If I watched some 17 year old guy  completely tune out the painful cries of someone (blind, no less!) so that he could get a free hockey puck, I'd  think he was self-centered and unfeeling.  Who does that? 
Apparently my husband.


But I know him as kind, caring and protective.  He goes out of his way to help people whenever he can, and notices other's pain or difficulty.  He's not self-centered or unfeeling - quite the opposite.


People can change.
Sometimes we just need to give them time to grow up, but I think most of the time we underestimate the AMAZING work of Holy Spirit - when He's given a few years with a teachable spirit.