by Marie | Aug 27, 2025 | Archives, Inspiration
In my first conscious moment after the accident, I knew it was bad news. Would I even survive? At age twenty, I hoped to do a whole lot more living before I checked out. I had been living life to the fullest over the weekend in San Diego. Along with my cousins, I took in the sights, shopped, sunbathed on the beach, and visited with my aunt. We weren’t the drinking, carousing kind, but too much of even wholesome fun can get you in trouble. After twenty-four hours with no sleep, I was in no condition to start driving home to Phoenix, Arizona. At the hospital, doctors were surprised that I had made it. My neck was broken in three places. “If she lives, she’ll be paralyzed from the neck down,” one doctor told my parents. I required a complicated procedure to restore my neck to proper position. During a long recovery period, I would have to remain immobile. It would be some time before I could expect to return to normal, if ever. In addition to my grim prognosis, the hospital separated me from family and friends. My parents could come to stay with me only on the weekends. How could I occupy the time? Once I settled into a routine, I began receiving mail. When a large bouquet
;
by Marie | Aug 26, 2025 | Archives, Inspiration
See you on the other side, Sis.” These were some of my brother Randy’s final words as we held each other, crying, knowing we probably wouldn’t see each other again this side of heaven. It was heartbreaking to let go of each other. I wanted to keep him a little longer. It was strange to start the New Year with such profound loss, but what a way for my brother to enter eternity: new body, no pain, no sorrow, in the presence of his Lord. Randy and I were five years apart and had opposite approaches to life. He was “the scrapper” who wouldn’t be pushed around. I was the older sister, “the pleaser,” who wanted to avoid confrontation. “Live under the radar so no one will notice” was my unspoken motto. We grew up in a neighbourhood filled with children whose fathers had returned from World War II, many with physical and emotional injuries. They were hardworking men trying to get back to normal. Our dad had grown up during the Great Depression. He moved west at 17 after graduating from a small high school in a tiny coal-mining town. To assure that he would never be poor or hungry again, he educated himself and worked constantly. Our mother, an only child, had been one of the lucky few whose
;
by Marie | Aug 25, 2025 | Archives, Inspiration
There was a man who was the richest farmer in the valley. He was not a God-fearing man but was instead a “self—made” man who worshipped His creator (himself!). He had in his employ a humble gardener who loved the Lord. One day the richest man in the valley opened the door to his godly servant who stood outside on the doorstep holding his hat awkwardly in his hands. “What is it?” his master asked him. “Sir,” the man replied awkwardly, “I had a dream that tonight at midnight the richest man in the valley would die.” “Why, my man,” the richest man in the valley replied, “I’m in excellent health—don’t you worry about me!” Then gently, “It’s all that religion you go in for—makes you think morbid thoughts.” The man shuffled away and the master went inside the house again. However, he couldn’t get over the man’s words and he decided to stay up late and ask his friend’s doctor to come over and play bridge with him—just in case! The doctor complied and the evening passed with the richest man in the valley glancing at the clock every half hour or so and insisting the doctor stay and play just “one more game.” At half past midnight the doctor left and the richest man in the valley chided
;
by Marie | Aug 23, 2025 | Archives, Inspiration
I was looking forward to the long train ride home after an exhausting weekend of speaking and challenging the hearts of women, engaging and ministering amongst them. Knowing the effects of such weekends, months earlier I’d booked a train ticket with a seat by the window so that I could mindlessly stare into space and eventually close my eyes to the lulling clickety-clack of the train on its track. But upon boarding, I discovered someone else sitting in my seat. I came to find out that due to overbooking, nobody was in their designated seat. Fortunately, there was another one available nearby that remained unoccupied. While it was not my desired window seat, I politely asked the woman seated there if she’d mind if I joined her. “Of course not.” She smiled back. “I’m not in the right seat either.” As I made myself comfortable, she asked, “Do you have any exciting plans in Toronto?” (our destination). I replied, “I hope not! The only excitement will be not having enough time to catch my connecting train headed home to Ottawa.” To be polite, I asked, “How about you?” She then went on to tell me that she was on her way to participate in a radio interview on addiction. Picking up on the sensitive topic at hand, but recognizing a
;
by Marie | Aug 22, 2025 | Archives, Inspiration
Claire was singing along, in sync with the Choir, when, upon looking to the back row, she saw a space where, until only a moment ago, her teenage daughter Ann was seated. It took effort to hold back the tears of frustration, or was it guilt, self-blame…that welled in her eyes. She had failed to tame her teenage daughter as any Christian mother would hope. But God, I have tried, she inwardly quarrelled… I have been an example, always praying, always here, always sharing the bible… Once a church devotee and member of the local Parish choir, her teenage daughter had lost her way and drifted away from Church, from God. Claire had to talk her up the previous six days, to convince her to attend today’s service. Now she had left… And what’s more, she had abandoned the new bible she had bought for her only yesterday, there on the bench. “Whoosh,” Claire sighed, gathering the strength to reach the bible. She noticed a chit protruding from its pages. She read it. “My dearest and nearest. I know I have been far from you lately. I am sorry. I’m back, in your arms, to your comfortable embrace. To your wet love, where I truly belong.” Ann had abandoned service to go and see her boyfriend… Now Claire’s eyes welled;
;
