HERE I COME !

Today is my birthday ... my birth day.

Every year, when this day comes around, I think of my mother.  I wonder about the joy she had at my arrival, her first child.  But birthing is only part of the story: mothering is so much more and my mother was a wonderful mother.  So much of who I am, I learned from my mother.  I hope she would be proud of me today as she would watch me live.

And I think of my Dad.  Today I am 70, a long way from my birth day!  Unconsciously, I think, Dad has been my model of what Christian service is like as one ages.  Yes, I am like my mother but I have been discovering that my "heart responses", my devotion to God, resembles my father's.  I hope he would be proud of me today as he would watch me live out my faith in God.

And I think of me. Twenty years ago, I would not have imagined that my life at 70 would look like this.  Davd and I had plans, great plans for what our old age would look like.  But God had other plans for me, plans I wouldn't have chosen for myself, some that I would never have thought I could bear.  I have been through some dark valleys, I have leaned so heavily on my Abba that anyone else than He would have fallen over.  But through it all, I have learned who He is and who I am as "me".  I have learned a lot about grace and compassion.  I have learned a lot about true friendship.  I have been surrounded by loving, caring, upholding family and friends.

And I've had the fun of exploring my crazy, adventurous, spontaneous side ... and I like it!

So, today, Happy Birthday to me!  I like who I am at 70 :).  I humbly kneel before my God, my Abba, and thank Him for making me, for His faithful care, patience, strength and guidance during my whole life, and particularly these last 11 years.  Then, drawing on that strength, I stand up and say "Here I come, world!"

"Since my youth, O God, you have taught me, and to this day I declare your marvellous deeds.  Even when I am old and grey, do not forsake me, O God, till I declare your power to the next generation."  .. and I'm having fun doing it!
Psalm 71:17-18

A RIOT OF COLOUR!

      For 5 days in August, Brussel's Grand'Place becomes a riot of colour!  Everyone knows about it but it's a surprise at the same time so there is an air of expectancy that floats over the city during these days.
      Every two years, the Grand'Place is covered in a carpet of real flowers.  A design has been chosen, a frame is built and flowers are shipped in from the nursery fields around Belgium - appropriate colours for the design.  This year the theme is Africa, so there are hundreds of boxes of red, yellow, pink and white begonia petals, and hundreds of boxes of white, brown and yellow mums - 600,000 flowers, we are told.  Plus loads of boxes of coloured wood shavings (mostly brown and blue this year).  Not to forget rolls and rolls of grass sod.

On the first day, the frame is made and the sod is laid, according to the design.  All the workers are volunteers - this carpet is a tradition and it's an honour to be able to work on it.

On the second day, the flowers, petals and shavings are put in place, again by volunteers.  I hadn't realised that most of the carpet is petals, billions of them.  Evening falls, the work is done and Brussels is waiting expectantly for the finished product.

And what a spectacle awaits us on the morning of the third day!!  It blows your mind!  It's absolutely gorgeous!  It's huge!

I go up on the city hall balcony but still am not able to get it all in, it's so big!

WILL NO ONE RID ME OF THIS TURBULENT PRIEST?

If you know the story surrounding this question, then you know where I've been recently :)  If not, read on....

Before I left for Canada, my new friend, Dominique Mentior, a lovely Belgian Walloon (= French-speaking) said: "Nancy, you must walk on the cliffs of Dover and see the Canterbury Cathedral".  Now, who could say no to that?  So she packed me into her car and we drove across Belgium and France to Dunkerque, where we got the ferry to Dover, England.  And the weather couldn't have been more perfect!

And the cliffs of Dover are as white as I imagined them, even up close.  Down little country roads we went (on the lefthand side of the road, of course!) to St. Margaret's-at-Cliffe, where we parked the car and hiked along the cliffs.  What a beautiful experience under a blue sky, through fields of wild flowers and alongside a busy, blue English Channel!





The county of Kent that we drove through on our way to Canterbury was exactly as one would expect England to be: villages, tree-lined country lanes, timber-framed houses, flintstone cottages, beautiful gardens, lots of roses, pubs offering ale and steak & kidney pie and an ambiance that made me feel I was on a stroll down a country lane on a Sunday afternoon.





And then, just as Chaucer's pilgrims in The Canterbury Tales, we walked through the streets of Canterbury to the history-laden cathedral.  What an exquisite building!  It stands alone in all its

beauty in an oasis of green, in the midst of a busy town.  It's so huge you can't get a full photo of it.

If this cathedral could talk, its stones would tell you many stories.   Let me tell you three that meant a lot to me.

 

 

1. Thomas Becket was ordained Archbishop of Canterbury in 1162 by Henry II .... and murdered in the cathedral in 1170 by four of his knights.  Henry is purported to have said: "Who will rid me of this turbulent priest?!"  A rift had grown between them over disagreements concernng the separation of Church and State.

                                    place in the cathedral where he was assassinated



2. In the latter half of the 16th century, after  the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes in France that withdrew from the Huguenots (or Protestants) their freedom of religion, thousands of Huguenots from France and Walloons from Belgium streamed across the English Channel to England as refugees, seeking religious freedom. 

    Edward VI, being intensely Protestant and eager to have England's cotton woven in England rather than in Belgium, welcomed them to Canterbury and gave them the crypt of the cathedral to worship in.  There were around 900 of them at that time.

    As their number decreased, they were granted the chantry chapel of the Black Prince, in the crypt, and it is used by a French Huguenot/Protestant congregation to this day.  One of the older elders of St. Andrew's in Brussels, was the minister here for many years!  It was an exciting place for me to visit, so filled with history!

3. In World War II, during bombing raids, the cathedral was protected by firewatchers who sat on the roofs of the cathedral and patrolled them, dealing with incendiary bombs.

Canterbury Cathedral is a huge tourist attraction but it is also a quiet, serious place of worship.  I wanted to experience this, so Dominique and I went to Matins in the morning - a meditative, reflective Communion service, and Evensong in the late afternoon - held in the Quire and with a choir of men who sang the chants.  Very meaningful for me.

Canterbury also has timber-framed houses, good pubs, lovely gardens, lots of roses, narrow 16th century streets with cobblestones, and Roman walls.  It was fun to explore with my camera.



BEAR HUGS

July was a month of bear hugs and did I ever need them!!

It's strange how the need creeps up on you to be with someone that knows you for more than six months, to be hugged, really hugged by someone who loves you and be surrounded by dear ones who love you.

That need was met big time in July: I went back to Canada and drank in being loved on :)

I will be celebrating a rather important milestone birthday in August and since I'll be in Brussels for that occasion, family and friends at home decided that NOW was a good time for a party!

So, my women friends at my church in Repentigny had a fun birthday breakfast for me, complete with fancy hat, streamers and napkins, good food and lots of laughter.

And my dear sister Kathy brought all my Klinck family together at her farm in the Eastern Townships.  Caden and Chris and his family were able to come too, as were my niece Alison and her family from Ottawa. It was a great week-end of eating super meals, sharing laughter and walks and playing with the children.  I was spoiled!

Travelling up highway 401 from Montreal to Ontario has always been easy for me because it means a family wedding, concert, play, party or visit on the other end.  But this time the party was for me :) 
About 30 of my Hill family relatives gathered at Gerry and Carolynn Heeney's home in the Ingersoll countryside for a birthday picnic.  How I love family gatherings!  I get to see, talk to, laugh with and get caught up with people I love........what could be better?! 

My cup was overflowing with all the love and bear hugs I had shared during my holidays.  I got to watch my grandson play soccer and to splash in the water with my granddaughter.  I gathered flowers for Mummy with Donovan and tickled Gabrielle.  We ate ice-cream and hotdogs and played soccer together - making memories.

And squeezed in between all this fun was a terrific week in New York City where I taught language acquisition techniques to the new group of 55 missionaries going out into the world as Christ's servants from the Presbyterian Church of America.  I always enjoy doing this and it's a privilege to serve them in this way.  It's the 8th time I've taught this course!

An Air Canada jet brought me back to my home away from home in Brussels  I smiled to myself as I got off the plane, into the train, then in and out of the subway and said: "I"m at home here.  I have my place here for a while.  Thank-you, Lord, for this privilege and may I continue to be a blessing to those You have sent me to serve here."

As breath of God upon my heart
When I am far away,
As Gilead's soothing balm that heals
My homesickness this day.
As worry for the ones I leave
Behind me all alone
Melts into trust in You who reign
On high upon Your throne.
So all I need to do is walk
Into the pattern planned,
And trust the ones I love so much
Into Your nail-pierced hands.
(Jill Briscoe)