Letting Lucy Lead by Marcia Lee Laycock

I’ve just returned from four days on the road, traveling to various communities and speaking to Christian women’s groups. Three of those engagements were in a large city that I’m not terribly familiar with. So I took the time before leaving to check on the internet for the locations of each event. Using an internet application I was even able to find out exactly how long it would take me to get from A to B. I printed out the directions and maps and felt well prepared. Just to be safe I also took our trusty GPS along.

For those who might not know, GPS stands for Global Positioning Satellite. It truly is an amazing little gadget. You type in the city and address and a screen lights up with a map and your position is monitored as you drive. Then a friendly voice tells you where to go and when to turn right or left. As I turned it on before leaving for a venue that was in the very heart of the city, I thought there would be no way I could get lost or confused. Famous last words!

You see the map and directions I had copied from the internet did not match with what my GPS was telling me. To make things worse I was heading into the downtown core at the height of the morning rush hour. The traffic was bumper to bumper. The radio had told me there was a city-wide teachers’ convention on that morning so the traffic was expected to be even worse than usual. Great, I thought, and my information is contradictory.

As the lilting GPS voice (I call her Lucy) directed me to turn right, I glanced at the written directions I had printed out. Turning right didn’t make sense. I turned left and ended up where I didn’t want to be. Then I remembered my husband telling me about the training given pilots in the military. They are taught how to fly blind – literally. The cockpit is covered so they can’t see a thing and have to rely entirely on their instruments to take off, fly and then land the aircraft. The number one rule is, believe what the instruments say. Don’t rely on your own understanding.

So I turned left and found myself heading into what looked like a residential area. That made me nervous. But Lucy said turn left, so I did. Then left again, and suddenly I was at an intersection. Left one more time, and Lucy triumphantly announced I was “arriving at destination, on right.” I looked up and sure enough, there was the hotel where the meeting was being held. Letting Lucy lead me had proven the best course. There was no need to worry.

Sometimes it doesn’t seem to make sense to follow what God wants us to do. Logic can dictate a different course of action and we often worry. But God’s ways are higher than ours. Like Lucy, He is able to see from a clear vantage point. He knows the beginning and the end and the winding route in between. He knows exactly the best route for each one of us.

Proverbs 3:5&6 says it best – “Trust in the lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him and he will make your paths straight.”
God will always get us to where we need to be. No need to worry.

Marcia is the winner of the Best New Canadian Christian Author Award for her novel, One Smooth Stone. visit her website - www.vinemarc.com

Willie's Song - Bonnie Way

She was tied to the porch, her tail wagging eagerly and her foot pawing the air as we approached. From nose to tail she wiggled with joy to see us, and her expression begged for us to play with her. Her fur was honey-colored, with just a bit of black at the tip of her tail and around her muzzle. Her ears were soft and floppy, like a retriever’s, and her nose was long and slender, like a greyhound’s.

That was our introduction to Willie, our new puppy. A few hours later, she leaped into the van behind me and curled up at my feet. She slept there all the way home, and as she did, we continued our argument over what to name her. In the end, it was Dad’s suggestion that won out.

Dad’s secretary had found Willie lying on the yellow line in the middle of the road. She was a skinny, shy puppy, lost and exhausted. But the secretary couldn’t keep her, and so asked around work if anybody wanted a dog. At that time, we already had a dog; a big black Shepherd/lab cross named Shadow. But Shadow was getting old, and we knew soon we’d have to find another dog. Mom decided that now was the right time, and we went to get Willie.

Dad named her Willie after country legend Willie Nelson and his song “On the Road Again.” When he’d first suggested it, I said, “But she’s a girl!” That was the reaction that everyone else had upon being introduced to Willie. We forever had to explain, “Yes, her name is Willie.” But Willie fit her, especially when we found out that in Australia, winds similar to tornadoes are called willy-willys. For when Willie gets excited, she turns into a regular willie-willie.

At home, we introduced her to Shadow. He paid her scarcely any attention; she groveled at his feet, showing herself most submissive and friendly. They got along well, and Willie was soon at home on our acreage.

We spent the next weeks getting used to Willie and introducing her to her new home. As a puppy, she loved to play. Over the next weeks, she accumulated a collection of “toys”: odd sticks, some rags, one or two rawhide bones, a well-chewed ball. She’d line these up on the front lawn, and dash from one to the other, grabbing it, tossing it into the air, and dropping it before racing to the next toy.

From Willie’s attitude toward other dogs in her first months with us, we figured that she had been abused once by dogs. A month after we got Willie, I took her for a walk around the block. Shadow walked very slow and soon fell behind while Willie frisked around me. At the bottom of one hill, a huge dog came out barking at us, his hackles up and teeth showing. I turned around and saw Shadow at the top of the hill, with Willie halfway up and running as hard as she could. I decided it was a good idea to follow her.

Shadow died about three months after we got Willie. We’d had him for as long as we’d lived on our acreage – fourteen years – so he seemed part of the place. But with Willie there, it didn’t seem so much that we were losing a dog. It was simply Shadow’s time.

The vet guessed that she had at least five different breeds in her, but greyhound was certainly predominant; Willie loved to run. In the summer, Mom got the idea to take Willie for a run on her bike. After that, just seeing Mom or I with our bikes was enough to get Willie bouncing, ready to run. We clocked her doing 25 mph down the hills – the only time we could keep up to her. She runs best in the morning, when it’s cool. If it’s hot, she hits every puddle or slough on the way, and arrives home wet, muddy, and ready to play.

She’s a smart dog, and soon learned “stay” and “heel”. One thing she’s never learned, to my brother’s disappointment, is to play fetch. Somehow she seems to think keep-away much more fun.

One Christmas, the boys received a country CD from Mom and Dad. That was all the music they played for the next several months. We soon had every song on the CD memorized. But one day when they were playing it, I stopped suddenly, listening to the first song. Then I exclaimed, “That’s Willie’s song!” And sure enough, it was – Willie Nelson singing “On the Road Again.”

I hope Willie never goes on the road again. She wasn’t a stray long enough to be a wanderer and stays around our acreage. She’s the smartest, goofiest, most idiotic dog that I’ve ever met. But she’s our Willie, and whenever a certain song comes on the radio, we look at each other with a smile, because it’s Willie’s song.

Be Careful What You Wish For - Jan Keats

My husband and I lived in Fort McMurray in the early 1980’s. While there, we met and befriended many wonderful people. After a few months we became close friends with about 25 people. On most weekends we would congregate either at the local campground, or at each other’s homes and many of us would take excursions to Edmonton on weekends, which was a common thing to do.

Since moving back east in 1986, I’ve always wished that I could see them again. I always kept fond memories of the fun times we would have and how unique our relationships were. I never had the desire to move back to Fort McMurray, although I still have family there. So, I simply kept my memories as they were, memories. That was until this past summer.

My husband and I visited Gander, NL this past summer and we decided to purchase tickets to see the band, Great Big Sea. We met a friend we knew from those days in Fort McMurray, who left the city when we did, in 1986. She told us that her brother was home visiting and pointed him out to us among the crowd. We approached him and wow, what a delight to see our good friend that we hadn’t seen in nearly 25 years. There were hugs between Jeff and my husband, Gerald, and then it was my turn, then we hugged again and again. I got caught up in the emotion and cried tears of joy, which caused everyone else to follow suit. My dream was unfolding.

Shortly afterwards, another friend came along, then another and then another. All this took place rather quickly. We were all overjoyed of what was taking place. People around us were staring and perhaps wondering what the commotion was all about. It was almost a shock to me because I wasn’t expecting to see them, and we haven’t been in touch with each other either. We counted about 20 out of the 25 of the group of friends we associated with. This group of friends went back to NL to celebrate a family reunion and all decided to attend the concert. But to see almost all of my close friends from that time of my life wasn’t only what I wished to see some day, it was a dream come true! It was truly an amazing experience for me.

We parted that night with our hearts warmed, and for me, personally satisfied knowing that dreams do come true; my dream came true! On the way back to Nova Scotia, I pondered the new memories, but I also began to think about my reunion in heaven, when I meet once again many friends and family who have already left this earthly home. If I was overjoyed after some 25 years of not seeing my friends, how much more joy can there be when I reach heaven to see my loved ones and meet my Saviour face to face. The longing and anticipation will not only be a wish or a dream, it will be a promise completed from God’s Word. He promised eternal life, which is my future home in Heaven. Awaiting me there will be my Saviour and loved ones.

To think that God gave me the desires of my heart and He delighted me with His favour. What a blessing! What overwhelming joy! And it is no coincidence then that my favourite Bible verse is found in Psalm 20:5, which reads, “May He give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed.”

Jan Keats

The Children - Glynis Belec

Tonight I pray for the children.

I pray for my beautiful grandchildren whose little hands caress my hair and my face. As I tickle little tummies, I take blessed delight hearing their sweet laughter. A contented smile, a sloppy kiss, a tiny hand pressed in mine - I marvel at how blessed I am to be a grandmother. I thank God that He has granted me more days so that I may enjoy the bedtime moments; the warm bubble baths and rubber duckies; the gentle voice of a child tucked in, as he whispers, "I love you grandma..."

I pray,too, for the children who do not know the love of a grandparent - the bomb killed so many family members that afternoon they say.

I pray for the child whose screams of fear go unheard because of the gunfire. Only two children remain uninjured the newspaper reads.

I pray for the child whose parents choose the high of hallucinogenics over the high calling of parenting. Social services will step in and take the child away (again.)

I pray for children who live through daytime nightmares: child labour; forced prostitution; physical abuse; mental cruelty; neglect of mind, body, spirit.

I pray for the child who goes to bed hungry and wakes up crying, and for the child who does not have a favourite blanket, a best friend, a rock collection.

For the child who does not have a father, who does not have a home, who does not have a Bible, I pray.

I pray for the child whose picture is on a milk carton or on a pornographic website, but not in the wallet of a loved one or in a gilded frame in the living room.

As I lay me down to sleep this night, Father, may your Spirit be upon these children and may I be part of the solution. AMEN