Harapnuik Adventures

Last night was Echo Night Of Worship Arts. They presented “Marvelous Light” a community wide praise and worship service with special presentations by the ECHO class of 2010 students in dance, sign language, hip hop, sword, song, and our River Rising Drama team. Our drama class acted out The Forth Man In The Fire. I played Ashpnaz the head soldier and Levi was Jesus. there are three videos because there are three parts. Enjoy

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Finally, after Levi bugging me for weeks, I told him I would measure him. I’ve always said he’d never be taller than me and up to this week, I was right. I refused to measure him after he reached 5′11″ because I didn’t want to eat my words and could always say the last time he was measured he was still shorter than me. Somehow he bribed me…I can’t remember what I got out of the deal, but we backed him up, held up the book, made sure his heels were against the wall and made the mark (2″ under the book ). He figured it out right away when he saw he hadn’t grown in months, so I had to do it right. Yes, my 13 year old son is 6 feet tall. So much for premies being small for their age. He’s got 1/4 inch on me. Caleb is gain at 5′5″… They can both be proud of their growth. What about me? I think I quit growing some where a bit after high school.

Then last Sunday I realized that I am still growing. This growth is much more interesting than pulling on your fav pair of jeans and finding that they are now, for sure, too short. Or finding out that you’re too tall for the kiddie rides at KDays. And knowing that the back seat of a compact car is only comfortable if you’re the only one in the back seat. The growth can’t be measured by rulers, jeans and cars. Let me tell you a story.

As a teen my fav singer was Canadian, Dan Hill. I remember making a deal with my friend Cindy to go see him at the Jube in Edmonton and, in return,  I would  go see The Bay City Rollers with her. In a song, McCarthy’s Day, he sings about his parents struggle in the U.S. because of being a mixed race marriage.

I couldn’t understand the problem. It was foreign to me. Now that we’ve lived a time in the “deep south” I understand a bit more. It’s real, the feeling of class between races. I’m not making a judgment call; it’s just a statement of fact, not unlike the feeling between First Nations and whites in Canada.

As a Christ follower, I loved the people, camp, youth group, activities of our church growing up. I remember dad saying once as we were driving passed Lacombe on our way home from Calgary that he almost bought some land in the area. I told him I was thankful he hadn’t cause then I wouldn’t have been involved in our life near Westlock, which I loved. As my adult years began, I continued on learning, growing, committing and experiencing a rich life with people I admired and respected and grew beside. Fast forward leaving Edmonton, to Lethbridge, where my denomination wasn’t represented and we attended a lovely local church which we worked along side, grew with and enjoyed the communion of souls for 3 years. Our first Sunday in Abilene we were priveledged to feast at the table of a pastor of a lively church and asked him what the challenges were for the church in Abilene. His comment was, because of the numbers, the struggle was to have them all work along side one another for the purpose of eternity.

Abilene is a small city of 120,000 with a huge church population. The churches range in the 100’s and we knew that coming here. ACU is a Church of Christ denomination that we had never heard of before learning about the University. The people have been the friendliest and most helpful to us as a family and individually and I love them dearly.  The Church of Christ is unique many ways, but two are important things for you to know. One, it celebrates communion every Sunday and two,  traditionally they have no instruments in their Sunday morning services. I’ve never heard such beautiful singing.

On our interview trip to Abilene, Dwayne’s boss took us out to dinner with a bunch of folks from ACU to facilitate a time of questions and concerned. One couple were new to ACU, moved from way up north 6 months previous and I think they tried to warn us and offered a newbie perspective on the city of Abilene. This same couple with their two young children, invited us over for Thanksgiving dinner. During the evening we heard their love story. The man’s father, an elder in the Church of Christ in Wisconsin,  had met the girl in some way and was so very impressed with her heart that he insisted she was the one for his son. He set up the date and a few years later, they were husband and wife.  Their two children are beautiful and fun and Levi and Caleb had a blast with them on Thanksgiving evening.  I had respect for the father in his part of the love story for the husband is white and the wife is black. He saw a beautiful heart of a woman and wanted it for his son.

For reasons too long to explain in this already lengthy post, I will say that we are not attending a Church of Christ, but a Baptist church. This Baptist church has communion available every Sunday, but the huge comparison is the music. It’s rock concert loud. I’m not saying I enjoy that part totally, but it’s speaks to what I am about to share.

So with all that background I bring you to a simple sight I saw last Sunday.  The communion elements are located along the sides of the church for people to partake at will. Dwayne nudged me and pointed out the family who had us over for Thanksgiving. With rock concert loud music dancing all around them, this family wrapped in each others arms were praying and celebrating the death and resurrection of our Jesus. The awesome thing was that the visiting white grandfather and grandmother from the Church of Christ where part of the huddle. Here is what it’s all about. The love of our God breaks through barriers of race and denomination and tradition and taste of music. It wraps us in arms of peace and acceptance and authenticity. The little girl peeks out between the hugs and waves shyly at Dwayne. To me, this picture will always be a sign of the truth of the gospel and the truth of the church.

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you all are one in Christ Jesus.” Galatians 3:28

I know I’ve always known this, at least as far back as I remember. I had just seen the truth portrayed in a picture, an action, an experience.  May I always live it.

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It was a Sunday afternoon, 3:30, just as the sun was going down on December 20, 1992, almost 17 years ago, Dwayne and I were married. It feels like yesterday; it feels like we’ve never not known each other. Our day’s plans had changed many times, but you don’t need to hear the back story, it was just the beginning.

To celebrate this year, we went to book a restaurant for dinner on Dec. 20th and lo, the ones we want to try aren’t open on Sunday eve Only in Abilene during the Christmas season. We will trip on down to Buffalo Gap and try out Perini Steakhouse (apparently American known for the stuff). It’ll be a cultural experience.

I enjoying sharing Christmas and our anniversary. Both are love stories very real and important to me. I know few people who have taken the plunge at Christmas: Christina and Ryan, Tanya and Tom, another Marilyn and Dave. but please celebrate with us this time of year a personal and eternal love story:

Like a stone on the surface of a still river

Driving the ripples on forever,

Redemption rips through the surface of time in the cry of a tiny babe

There are others who know about this miracle birth

The humblest of people catch a glimpse of their worth

For it isn’t to the palace that the Christ child comes

But to shepards and street people, hookers and bums

The message is clear if you have ears to hear

That forgiveness is given for your guilt and your fears

It’s a Christmas gift that you don’t have to buy

There’s a future shining in a baby’s eye.

-Bruce Cockburn-

We all have love stories that hold us in our space and time, whether friendships, family, children. May you celebrate the ones God has given you and His greatest love gift of all, Emmanuel, God with us.

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Today we went biking around ACU campus. We found out that we didn’t tighten up my bike enough and the back while go messed up. We quickly fixed that and started riding again. We took some pics at Jacobs Dream. Here they are.

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Dwayne and I went to a Sunday school class today where, for an icebreaker/getting to know time, we partnered up with someone we didn’t know, introduce ourselves, answer a question assigned to everyone, chat for a bit and then went around the room introducing our partner and give their answer to the question. Last Sunday’s question was, what are you thankful for? This Sunday it was, If you couldn’t have turkey or ham for the Thanksgiving meal, what would you replace them with? My answer was, if it was my boys it would be pizza, but I would choose lasagna. When the rounds made it back to Dwayne, his partner introduced him and said he would choose perogies. Everyone turned around and many said, “what, what are those?” Whewww, we are far from Alberta. Someone suggested they were Polish dumplings, like ravioli, “oh, dumplings”. Enough said. Dwayne told the boys and I later that he should have said it in Ukrainian and add all the other Ukrainian dishes.

No surprise that some of the other answers included beef, but most were Mexican. Guess it’s just another cultural thing. I had chicken and dumplings once here (never again) and trust me, they are totally different than perogies. The dumplings I grew up with were more like biscuits baked on top of a meat dish, so I was not prepared for soggy lumps of dough swimming in a sauce. Maybe I need some homemade sometime and give them another try.

Oh, one more thing. When the service was over, I saw a young man pick up a big ole white cowboy hat and put it back on his head as he made his way to his pickup. Sometimes Alberta is not so far away.

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Positive things about church hunting:

1. I can wear the same thing every Sunday and no one but my family knows and they don’t pay attention.

(that’s all I can think of )

It’s just getting a little long, this rootlessness. God knows who we need and who needs us, so we keep our eyes, ears and minds open to surprises and delight and learning every week.

Okay, there are more good things about church hunting:

-meeting many people who love the Lord and worship in many different ways, but always proclaiming that our God reigns

-hearing from a different man every week what God has lead him to speak

-seeing many different types of people being welcomed, fed and encouraged

-music, it’s all so diverse! one with no instruments with the singing shaking the rafters; another with rock musicians and instruments that shake the brain cells! All of them singing of our walk and hope in the God of the universe.

-an opportunity to challenge our belief in what we believe and why as we check out statements of faith and statements of  purpose

-observing how they love and serve each other in laughter and in tears, embracing one another’s pain and loss and exploding with joy at new life in Christ, birth, marriage.

How rich we are as a family to walk through this time of discovery. Where will God take us? Where will we become a local part of the family of God? Today we went back to one we’ve visited a few times and heard a sermon about service in this church. When the pastor said, “it should never be a “have to thing”, I waited for what I so hoped was coming, “it’s a get to thing”. Ahh, right then I knew that along with Dwayne sitting beside me, we were nodding our hearts in agreement. It’s what Dwayne is constantly telling Levi and Caleb and what we try to model in our love for the family of God. The whole sermon was on the grace that Christ provides for us to be who He needs us to be wherever we end up. I won’t condense the sermon since you’ve probably heard one already today. It was just a blessing for us.

Another, Ahh moment; the lady in front of me introduced herself, found out we were from Canada, went and found another lady who was from Canada (London, ON) living here for 20 years, she found out we had just moved from Lethbridge and she went and found a lady who was born and raised in Coalhurst, went to college in Lethbridge and married a man from Nobleford and have been living here since ‘94. This is May and June backwards for me when we in Lethbridge/Canada and meeting people who had lived in Abilene. Nothing like this God of ours who brings me pieces of hope and joy when I need them.

On to the other search. I’m hitting some open houses. Won’t find a home unless we look!

Peace.

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Okay, the update of the Harapnuik home crisis (actually, I just said that so you’d read on. It’s really more like an adventure).

The other morning Dwayne and I woke up to a deflated air bed. Sad. It has sprung a leak somewhere and since it’s a slow one, we can’t find it. We ended up packing it up and stealing the boys foam mattresses. Yes, feel sorry for them. They actually have some thinner ones that work fine, but now we are all sleeping on the floor. It’s kinda cool, but not really. It takes waaay too much work to get up out of bed now. It’s so much easier just to sit up, grab my Bible, book, study, curriculum for the day, whatever and stay in bed. Truly, if the espresso machine would stop calling me in the morning, I’d probably stay there.

Yes, we need to buy a bed and mattress, but we are waiting to buy a house so we don’t have to move it. Sounds silly, but if you felt how heavy the one we want to buy is (I don’t know how to unhang this preposition, someone help), you’d get the picture. Just ask Preston who helped us unload it when we bought it for Lethbridge and then we returned it before we put it together when we found out we were moving. I know all this is riveting you to your screen. The mattress is in Ft. Worth and we haven’t been that direction for a while, so the boys are kindly giving us their comfort.

We found an actual BAKERY last week that, surprise, bakes bread! Every other one bakes all the things you love, but don’t need. You know, donuts, eclairs, squares etc. It’s a Jewish bakery and the couple is simply delightful. They’ve only been open since Dec 26., so I hope they stay. They are promising bagels soon, so I will have them on speed dial. I was bemoaning the fate of no bakery to some lady I was just getting to know. I told her I couldn’t wait to get a house so I could start baking my own bread. She looked at me (with kindness), “your apartment doesn’t have an oven?” Touche. I laughed; I guess I just miss all my “tools”.

Dwayne leaves for Europe this week (gone for Canadian Thanksgiving and we will be moving to our 3 bedroom apartment close to the end of Oct. It’s bigger, so if any of you want to come and visit, we will have an actual room for you and you won’t have to sleep in the dining room (although, it will probably still be the floor Sounds so enjoyable. I’m sure you’ll all be booking your flights!

Our house hunting and church investigating continues. It makes for a busy Sunday, but we look forward to both experiences and possibilities. We know that we are not stagnant in the waiting and searching. We are appreciating so much, where we have come from and what we have been given in the past in all the blessings of home and body of believers. Sometimes going without is what I need to truly understand the gifts we have just waiting to be acknowledged. So, thanks God, for your unspeakable gifts; past, present and future.

Peace.

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Ah, Texan Baptists, they have such character. We went to a Sunday School class this morning and were so encouraged by the rock solid teaching on the inerrancy of scripture. The teacher was talking about if you believe Paul was wrong about one thing, then you can’t say he’s right about something else cause “that dog can’t hunt”. I think I need to know more about the hunting world before I can figure that out.

We went to the main service and were able to sing some HYMNS! Wow, what a concept. Cool that they had the wa,wa of the electric guitar and boom, boom of the drums, and it’s amazing at how the words to “The Old Rugged Cross” and “Redeemed” seem new when put to “long-haired-hippy-bang-bang-music” Once again, I’m listening to what was written in praise. Then there were the two black girls about 8 or 9 standing next to us just dancing up a storm. That’s when I know white lady can’t dance when I watch them live out the joy of praise. Even their clapping has more rhythm. The family surrounding them had visitors from Africa with them and one lady (not speaking English), had a hymnal in her language and the girls helped her find the number of the song and she sang along in her language.

What a “full of joy” experience.

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About 20 years ago, when I was in my artsy-fartsy stage a friend (of whom I learned a great deal of artsy stuff) led me to a movie at the Princess, Babette’s Feast. I’ve been trying to remember the story line of why a French female chef ends up in a small Puritan community in the Northern part of Europe cooking for them. I believe they were providing her and her young son refuge in some way. The people, due to their piety, would only eat gruel and drink water, but they were very kind to her and loved her and her son. At one point in the movie she inherited a large sum of money and to show her love and appreciation to her community, she planned an elaborate meal for her friends, had everything shipped from France to create it including fine crystal, linens, and china. Throughout the meal as she created in the kitchen, plate after plate was placed before her guests with accompanying drinks of all sorts. The expressions on their faces were priceless as they sipped and tasted everything placed before them. The only acknowledgment was their expressions for they had decided ahead of time to only acknowledge the goodness of the pastor that created the community and his words while he had been alive.

It reminded me of a friend who was visiting our church and after hearing the sermon, attending a Sunday school class and meeting some folk proclaimed that it was like a banquet to a person who had only been fed cornflakes for years.

How often do we walk away hungry from the table, when it is all set, prepared, paid for, with hands that willing sacrificed all to show love, gratitude and appreciation? How often do we mumble our common phrases because they are comfortable and expected and not find voice to say in awe, “how good this is”, and know that there is no other meal that can compare? I wonder how many times I have, and still do, and will continue to not acknowledge the exquisite taste of God’s goodness. He’s taken us from gruel and water to the banquet of all good things.

“This is my body, this is my blood. Take it. Remember me.” – Jesus -

I was thinking about times in my life when I have had the banquet before me and I didn’t acknowledge it for its beauty, delight, pure joy. Laughter with family recalling times of togetherness, tears with friends as we walk down rocky roads together, glimpses of heaven as we celebrate new life in babies, marriages, and even some deaths. I say I will squeeze every drop of the preciousness from the day, yet at night I think of the times when my hands lay limp.

Forgive me, Lord, for not tasting and seeing that You are good, and exclaiming it to everyone at the table.

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Many years ago someone gave me a Charles Swidoll devotional book and I loved it. I’d let you know the title, but I’ve fogotten and it’s packed in the B-M-12 box in our storage bin. There was one devotional called, “A Case Against Vanilla”. The gist was that we often don’t try anything new because of fear, doubt, complacency, or many other reasons. Swidoll challenged his readers to take a chance and try a different flavor of ice cream. I’ve discovered over my many years here on this globe, that vanilla is by far the best.

Once, when out for dessert with Glenna, I had apple pie with vanilla and black pepper ice cream, yum. I love the color of anything called vanilla cream. My favorite coffee flavor (back when I liked them) was French Vanilla.  I recently discovered that Haag and Daaz has a line of ice cream called 5. It’s called 5 because of the number of ingredients: milk, cream, sugar, eggs and vanilla bean. It’s truly one of the best ice creams I’ve ever tasted.

In our church search, I’ve often feel like we are taste testing.  What do we like about this one, what didn’t we like, what did it leave us with, did it have a clear focus, where could we fit in. Through it I’ve decided that, like Haag and Daaz, the church only needs 5 ingredients as well: teaching, prayer, breaking of the bread, fellowship and the occasional cup of really good coffee.

There are many flavors of churches to choose from in this city of Abilene. I’m looking for a vanilla church. Give me simple, straight forward, doesn’t try to be something else or compete with something else and leaves me wanting more. None of that fluff-and-stuff-no-name-brand either. I want the real thing. A vanilla church that when added to the world will enhance the sweetness, smooth out the bitterness, compliment the efforts, give a taste of the true and only necessary ingredients and, more importantly, be able to stand alone.

So as we spoon up different flavors every Sunday, (some nuttier than others) (sorry, that’s not true, they’ve all been great, I just couldn’t resist that line) we do agree that they have all added a treat to the beginning of the week, as worshiping with the body should. It’s what we look forward to every week. Dessert first, Dwayne always says!

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