MY DADDY

            The visiting minister at the Cape Croker United Church was attempting to demonstrate faith.  Calling our five-year-old son Stephen up to the front, he set him up on a platform, and told him to jump down.

            “I’ll catch you, don’t worry,” he said, holding out his arms.  Stephen hesitated, then found the courage to jump, probably because his own Daddy had caught him many times.  The minister duly caught him, and all was well.

            “We have to trust God in every situation in life,” the minister was saying.

“He is strong and able to ‘catch’ us.  He is our loving Daddy.”

Just then, three-year- old Grace, our daughter, piped up clearly enough for everyone to hear:

 ”My Daddy has big muscles!”

Smiles and warm laughter spread through the little church.  Well-known and liked in the community by now, both for his help in the garden training project and for his up-beat personality, Daddy Rien certainly did have the well-developed muscles of a man who had done physical work all his life.

Would that we all had such child-like trust in our Daddy!

Trust in the Lord with all your heart…(Proverbs 3:5 NIV)

…I will never leave you nor forsake you. (Joshua 1:5)       

 

MY DADDY

                                      INDIAN SUITCASE

 

(a fictionalized account, in order to make a point, and introduce the lingo)

 

“Whatcha got dere?” asked Rien, gesturing towards Bobby’s lunch. 

“Oh, just some ol’ Indian steak, that’s all,” replied Bobby.

“What in the wurrld is Indian steak?” asked Rien.

“Oh, hee hee, just some ol’ fried baloney, that’s all,” said Bobby. “Only this is cold.” All three trainees chuckled.  “That’s what we call it- closest us ol’ Indians get to real steak, hah!”

“And by the way,” put in Philip, “Why do Indians have high cheekbones?”

“Don’t have no idea.  Why?”

“From sitting like this,” Philip rested his elbows on the table, with his hands on his cheeks, ”Waiting for the cheque.” A chorus of guffaws and chuckles followed this.

“You guys don’t t’ink much of yourselves, do you?” asked Rien.” Well, you won’t be sittin’ around waiting for no cheque when we get done here!  And I’ve eaten a heck of a lot of “Indian steak” myself.”

 

Tears came to Rien’s eyes. Dear Lord, help me to show dem dey can do anyt’ing they set their minds to.  Show dem what a beautiful people dey are, and how much You love dem.

 

“So, are we going fishing tomorrow?” asked Philip.

“Ja. Let’s do daht,” said Rien.

“Well, don’t forget to bring your Indian suitcase, then.”

“And what is daht, may I ask?”

“An ol’ green garbage bag.” Another chorus of titters all around.

 

                                                                                                                                                                                              For you created my innermost being; 

you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

your works are wonderful,…(Psalm 139: 13, 14 NIV)

A CHILD HAUNTS MY HEART

 

                                            A CHILD HAUNTS MY HEART

            The sweet three-year-old boy reached up silently through his tears for a comforting hug.  Something within me knew that he was crying because of his home situation – a situation I knew nothing about, nor had the authority to remedy.  All I could do was to convey through touch that I cared.  Would that be enough to carry him through whatever grief he was carrying?  Would the memory of my empathy and motherly hug help him to heal and trust as he grew up? 

            The little boy’s older brother was adopted by a loving Christian couple on the reserve.  My heart was screaming, “Why can’t you adopt his brother, my darling little Playschool child, too?”  People can do only so much.

            I never saw the little boy again.  Over the years, I have never stopped praying for him.  When I shared the story with someone, she reminded me, in her practical way, that the child for whom I was grieving and praying did not exist any more, since it was now thirty years later.  No, but what kind of person did he become?  What kind of life did he lead?  I pray for healing in his life, for loving, Godly, positive parent figures to help him become the adult he was meant to be, for protection from harm, from addictions, from bitterness, from a criminal lifestyle, as these can result from hurts in early childhood.  I pray he will find his best friend Jesus, who loves little children, and is close to the brokenhearted.  I pray he will find happiness.

            I still picture that little three-year-old boy when I pray, perhaps because he represents all the brokenhearted children on the planet, whether they lack food and shelter, or are abused, or simply lack love.  Many, many children haunt my heart. Sometimes we can be Jesus’ hands and feet to help them, sometimes His heart.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted…(Psalm 34:18 NIV)

Let the little children come to me…(Matthew 19:14)

 

                               GOD SPEAKS THROUGH THE INDIAN CORN

            Many years after our time on the reserves was finished, I was placing a sheaf of Indian corn on our wall for a fall decoration.  How I loved the rich harvest colours:  deep yellow, orange and wine red!  As I arranged the stalks, I had an overpowering feeling that God was trying to say something through the symbol of the Indian corn.  What I felt Him saying was that the rich, unique colours of the corn, altogether different from ordinary corn, signified the uniqueness of the native people themselves and the richness and creativity of their culture.  The longstanding growing of the Indian corn represented their ancient relationship with the land.  As I and others love the special qualities of the Indian corn, so He, God, has a great love for the special native peoples He has created.

It is best to come humbly when trying to teach agriculture to a people who have  such an age-old connection with the earth.

O praise the Lord, all you nations!  Praise Him, all you people!  For His mercy and lovingkindness are great toward us, and the truth and faithfulness of the Lord endure forever. Praise the Lord! (Psalm 117, Amplified)