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Winner of the Best New Canadian Christian Author Award, 2006, for her novel, One Smooth Stone, published by Castle Quay Books
Winner of the Award of Merit, 2003, for her devotional book, Spur of the Moment
Blogs of Interest: International Christian Fiction Writers Check out this month's edition of
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"And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds." Hebrews 10:24
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The Power of Brokenness by Marcia Lee Laycock It seems there were two men, two of Jesus' disciples, who were deeply loved by Him. He loved them so much that he took the time to chat with them as they walked away from Jerusalem toward their home in a town called Emmaus. That would not have been particularly unusual, except that Jesus had been crucified three days before. The account of this story in the book of Luke tells us that the two men were "kept from recognizing him" (Luke 24:16), even as Jesus "explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself" (v.27). It wasn't until they were eating with him that their eyes were opened and they saw. It happened at the moment when Jesus broke the bread. I don't think that moment was a random act. I believe Jesus chose it to teach those two men something. I believe He was also teaching us something about brokenness. The Psalmist David knew about brokenness. When the prophet Nathan confronted him about his sin with Bathsheba, David poured out his heart to God, acknowledged his sin and sought God's forgiveness. He knew what was required - "You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise" (ps.51:16-17). It's not easy to think about that, let alone desire it. We don't often pray, "Lord, break me." We don't often recognize that we are already broken people, damaged by our own sin. It's common knowledge among those who work with alcoholics that they cannot be helped until they have "hit bottom." Until they recognize their need for help they cannot change. We are all in that place. Until we recognize our need for God, for his mercy and grace and forgiveness, we cannot fix our brokenness. He is the only healer who can accomplish it. Why brokenness? Because it leads us to our Saviour, to the one who loves us so deeply he takes the time to walk with us and reveal himself to us. He has broken the bread of his own body and offered it to His Father as a sacrifice to atone for our sins. He offers it to us. All we have to do is acknowledge our brokenness and reach out to take the gift that will give us complete healing in every way.
Mercy in a Gift Shop By Marcia Lee Laycock I received this scripture by email this morning - Jude 1:21 keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life. (NKJ) I was struck by the words, “looking for the mercy.” I believe this is a big part of being a Christ follower – we are to be looking for evidence of His hand everywhere we go, watching for His grace and mercy, looking for signs of His incomparable love. Sometimes we are to be that hand ourselves. I was in a hospital gift shop, stocking shelves with books some time ago. A young woman asked me about the flowers in a nearby display case. Her eyes were hopeful but I had to disappoint her and explain that I did not work in the hospital gift shop. I was just there to stock the book rack. I pointed to two ladies at a nearby counter. “Maybe they can help,” I said. She nodded, stared at the flower display and sighed. “I’m not really sure what I want.” I took note of her dress then – a baseball cap pulled over messy hair; a thin pair of pyjama bottoms topped by a hospital issue housecoat wrapped around a frail frame; pull-on terrycloth slippers, two sizes too big. “My friend is dying,” she said, then turned back to me. “I am too.” I put my clipboard down and waited. Her story unfolded in simple language, the words slipping from her mouth almost as though rehearsed. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a picture of her seven year old daughter. I could see the resemblance. She smiled when I mentioned it and went on to say there was a surgery that she was hoping for – highly experimental, there was only one doctor who could do it and he just happened to live in a nearby city. But then her voice fell and I had to lean close to hear. Her friend had had the surgery. She was still dying. The conversation turned to the word hope then. She had hope they would agree to do the surgery, hope that, unlike her friend, she would recover, hope that she would live to watch her daughter grow up. She said a pastor came to visit sometimes and “we say our small prayers together. They seem small, just words, but maybe not, eh?” Again that hopeful look in her eyes.
Home Movies and A Procession of Importance Watching old home movies can be a hoot, especially if the amateur moviemaker was as technologically challenged as my father. We have reams of family memories on film, but you have to know the people well to figure out who they are. "Oh look, that's Mom's knee ... isn't it?" "And Ron's feet. I'm sure those are Ron's feet!" When my parents made a trip to San Francisco, the camera went along. A few weeks later the rest of the family enjoyed seeing China Town - superimposed over an inverted Golden Gate Bridge. It was a little blurry, but no one seemed to mind. On one occasion my father relinquished his camera to my eldest brother. He was somewhat better at capturing the significant events of our lives on film. In fact, the footage he took on the main street of our hometown, one day in the mid 1960's, could be called a classic. It's a bit bouncy, but that was because Ron was running as he filmed. It's a bit blurry, but that's because the vehicle he was filming wouldn't slow down. In spite of these disadvantages, my brother managed to capture a brief picture of Queen Elizabeth II, waving to a large crowd. Well, okay, the film isn't really a classic, but somehow it does capture the wild enthusiasm of the people. We see them leaning forward, smiling, hands upraised, eager to dispense their praise as the procession flows by. Somehow that blurred, bouncy film makes you lean forward eagerly too, straining for a brief glimpse of that person of importance. Such was the atmosphere surrounding the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. The crowd leaned in, chanting their praise, waving their palm branches, laying them at the feet of their hero. "Hosanna to the Son of David!" they cried, "Hosanna in the highest!" (Matthew 21:1-11). If we had been among them, we would have been chanting and waving palm branches too. This was indeed a man of importance, they said, "This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee." A few days later they crucified Him. When He rode into Jerusalem they thought He might take over the city, or set himself up as a King, or at the very least, lead a revolt. Instead, He allowed himself to be arrested. He allowed the hated Romans to beat Him and execute Him. And He did nothing to save Himself. So those who had leaned in close with praises on their lips now spat on Him and demanded his death. If we had been among them, we probably would have done the same. But His mercy and grace is poured out on us anyway, as it was on those who were there that day. The procession Jesus led into the city looked like a triumph and His death looked like a defeat. In reality, His death was His victory. In reality, His death was our victory. "Hosanna! Hosanna in the highest!"
What is Truly Great? By Marcia Lee Laycock
I picked up a copy of a national newspaper last week, as I do now and then, to fill in the gaps in the news that television coverage leaves. As I read through the articles I thought of the Sunday School class I was about to teach. The class was all about greatness – how our culture sees it, and how God sees it. The articles were about people who were being lauded as great – a man who conducts seminars on how to become a millionaire overnight, another whose company makes “the Porsche of snowboards,” and movie stars who, when they decide it’s time for a vacation, buy themselves a tropical island. I pulled all of these articles out and handed them around to my junior high class on Sunday. The boys liked the one about the snowboards. We talked about why these people were considered worthy of having their names, and faces, in the paper. What had they done that was so great? It didn’t take the kids long to conclude that making snowboards wasn’t exactly worthy of the Nobel Prize. Then I showed them the article on the front page of the newspaper. It pictured four young men in RCMP uniform. There were other articles about them, articles that talked about their short careers, their families. The front page mostly talked about how they died. It's been five years since that day but still they are honoured. I asked the kids why these men where considered worthy of being in the paper. The answer was obvious. They had died in service to their community and to their country. It added a whole other dimension to the discussion about greatness. It’s sad that it took the tragedy of their deaths for those young men to be recognized. It’s sad that we forget about all the other men and women in our communities who are doing their jobs every day, serving us in police forces, hospitals, ambulance services, fire departments, town councils and a myriad of other jobs. Why do we only call them heroes when they die? It seems our culture loves to mock what is good, loves to ridicule what is right, moral and ethical. And when it does, it condemns itself. The apostle John wrote about this when he said – “Whoever believes in him (Jesus) is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because he has not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son. This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but men loved the darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light and will not come into the light for fear that his deeds will be exposed.” (John 3:17-20) There is only one way to love the light – become part of it. When we allow God’s Spirit to enter into our hearts and minds, He will convict and guide us into that light. Only then will we recognize and truly honour what is truly great.
Love and Such by Marcia Lee Laycock The Bible college professor handed out the syllabus for the first term and I gulped as I read it. The course dealt with two books written by the Apostle Paul to the Corinthians and it included choosing a chapter to memorize. A whole chapter! I started praying that God would give me the capacity to cram that much scripture into my brain and be able to get it all back out onto paper, verse numbers and punctuation included. We had several weeks to do the assignment but I picked chapter 13 of First Corinthians and began right away. I picked it because I already knew a portion of it by heart and I figured memorizing the famous "love chapter" would be easier that some of the others. I had no idea what memorizing that portion of scripture would do to me. At the time, I was in the middle of teaching a women's bible study on campus but after getting half way through the love chapter I seriously considered quitting. My motivation had been all wrong. I hadn't accepted the teaching assignment out of love, I had accepted it out of pride and my need for affirmation. I spoke with an older woman of God about my dilemma and she gave me wise counsel. She said that even though my motives may not have been the best, God was teaching me through the process. The challenge was to rise to the need for change, to pray for guidance and then obey. I began to realize that the love God had poured into me the day I accepted Christ as my Saviour was not meant to stay buried in my heart. It was meant to be poured back out. That wasn't easy for me. Still isn't. Because of some of the damage that was done to my heart and soul as a young girl, I'm a bit afraid of love, afraid to receive it and to give it freely. I'm sometimes afraid it will cost too much, hurt too much. But little by little God is helping me to trust Him enough to know that His love is patient and kind it is not easily angered. His love keeps no record of wrongs. His love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. His love never fails. I take courage in the Apostle Paul's prayer in the book of Ephesians chapter 3, verses 17-18 -"And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ." Rooted and established in love. That's what being a Christian means because God is love. So we are rooted and established in Him. We may fail to show it, fail to do it, but that is the reality of who we are. My prayer is that as we write, as we speak, as we live our lives day to day, the love of God may not be a trickle that seeps out of us, but a torrent flowing through all we do. Happy Valentines Day!
No Answers – thoughts on Haiti I’ve just finished reading a letter from a woman who was in Haiti when the earthquake hit and like many of the stories and images coming out of Haiti, it has left me stunned, weeping and asking questions. Paramount among those crowding my mind is one thought – Why does God spare some and not others? Why did one man suddenly decided to leave his hotel for a “breath of fresh air” and stand on the other side of the street as the building collapsed, killing almost everyone inside? Why was that bus load of Canadians held back in the airport so that they were not in the Hotel Montana when the earthquake hit? Why was an eighteen year old girl and another man killed on a busy Canadian highway when her car suddenly flew across a median and hit another head-on, five minutes after my husband had been at that very spot? There are no answers to those questions, nor are there answers to the many others that plague us when disasters hit, when some are slain and others saved. The lack of answers might lead some to say, “There is no God,” or “God has abandoned us all.” But there are other voices to be heard and heeded - like the voice of the woman who was dragged from the rubble of a building singing. Singing! And telling her rescuers there is no need to fear death because God is there. God is there. And then there are the voices of the people who gathered outside the crushed ruins of their church and prayed and sang and praised. The power of such faith is mesmerizing and awe-inspiring. They silence the voices of doubt and despair. They make all the unanswerable questions moot. God is there. Faith sustains. Yet we, as communicators of the Gospel, need to puzzle over all the unanswerable questions, we need to wrestle with them, not so that we may arrive at any wisdom from within us, but so that our wrestling might bring us to moments of faith that echo and resonate with those we are seeing on our television screens. Tragedies like the earthquake in Haiti open doors of opportunity for those of us who have been gifted with words or music or art, because it is at these times that people look for meaning, for purpose and for beauty in the midst of the chaos. They look to us and, as the scripture says, we must be “prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have” (I Peter 3:15). We must be able to point them to Jesus, in spite of the pain. So as we weep, as we mourn and struggle and wrestle with God, let us dig deep into the foundations of our faith and cry out, through our art, “Blessed be the name of the Lord.”
Angels Around Us The week after Christmas always seems a bit like the twilight zone to me. The fuss and flurry of Christmas is over but the New Year is still a few days away and everything seems to be on hold. Perhaps that’s why it seems like the perfect time for pondering. I was straightening up around the Christmas tree this week, and looked up just as the sun dipped. The angel on my windowsill became a silhouette while the three hand-made carollers beside it seemed to glow. I love my angel - I love that he’s extremely tall, which is an accurate depiction according to the Bible. I love his copper wings and long crimson gown. I love the serenity on his face. I also have a particular fondness for my little carollers even though they’re made of Styrofoam and cloth and I usually have to reattach their heads at least once during the season. As I looked at them that day it seemed that the tall one was looking down and protecting the small ones. It made me smile. As I pondered them that day I thought of all the times I’ve lived so totally in this world without any sense or understanding that there is another realm watching. I do believe in angels. I’ve known people who swear they’ve been visited by them, helped in some way. Perhaps my positioning of my angel beside and slightly behind my carollers was a subconscious nod in that direction. But I don’t think about angels very often. The Bible tells us that angels are “ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation” (Hebrews 1:14). Their appearances in the Bible tell us they refused to be worshiped and always pointed to the One who sent them. I’m quite sure there are many times that angels help us in some way and we remain unaware. Just look at the famous story in the Bible about Elisha and his servant. When the servant despaired because they were surrounded by their enemies, Elisha asked God to show him what was really there and “he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha” (2Kings 6:17). As I looked at my tall angel and my little carollers that day I wondered about all the angels who watch over us and God’s goodness in providing them. There are times when I wish I could see them, as Elisha’s servant did, but I don’t have to see them to know they are there. God has promised to keep us under his wing, protected. He has promised to guide us with his Spirit. He has promised he will never leave us. These are fine promises to take with us into the New Year. Whatever 2010 may hold for us, we can know God is with us. His angels are hovering near. May He bless you all abundantly with all the spiritual riches of His mercy and grace.
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