Up the Sunbeam

-- In a jubilant rush from the steep slopes of Mount Sir Donald and the glaciers in the surrounding crown of peaks, come the spectacular liquid jade waters of the Illecillewaet River and Asulkan Brook in my beloved British Columbia.  The two rushing flows come together in a veritable cacophony of sparkle and sound at a place picturesquely called "The Meeting of the Waters." It is a place of contrasts, at once ancient and permanent as well as endlessly new and changing, both a crashing cymbal and a love-tender lullaby. It is a place both exhilarating and hypnotic, thrilling and stilling, wild and loud and boisterous while simultaneously a place of deep peace and heart-quiet. I have a feeling I could spend many months there with terabytes of memory cards and still not capture all its moods and secrets and longings. I perpetually frame pictures, no matter where I am or what I'm doing.  On a bright September day I looked around this magical place, and true to ...

- Time. Impossible to pin down . . . impossible to hold back . . . impossible to hurry . . . impossible to keep . . . impossible to ever have enough. I can't decide whether to be happy to see 2009 flow away or to savor the last few drops of it--so I choose both. That seems to be the way when I'm grappling with mixed emotions. It is seldom a one-or-the-other conclusion. Today I skimmed through the entries of this year's prayer journal where I have poured out my heart to the God who can handle whatever I bring Him. While it is by no means complete, I read with amazement some of my most intense in-the-mome nt processing of life through 2009, including the ugly, scary monsters in my closet, the ravenous grizzly bears under my bed, and the just plain old ugly things in my heart I had to show my Father. Even more than these, I got to read the answered prayers, the good and perfect gifts, the unexpected Godlight He shone into my ...