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Four times a year I must travel to Port Credit and wait about four to five hours while a special eye drop is created from my blood. This drop is a new technique my doctor heard about. It was last November when I ran out and had to go again. After drawing 16 vials of blood the waiting began.

It was a chilly day, so I decided to sit in a library until the technician called. As I stared out the window, my thoughts turned to the past.

It was 2014, I had been lying around the house for three weeks waiting for my right eye to heal from another operation.

I was worried about money so I finally convinced the eye doctor to let me go back to work. I knew “no work equals no money.”

Of course my priorities and my emotions were all mixed up. I was ignoring my health issues, and I wasn’t trusting in God’s provision.

“Where are you God?” I asked. “Please help me get through this difficult period. I have lost so much time off work, so please bless me and make all things good again.” God is good and He did answer my prayer, just not in the way I expected.

A few days after I returned to work, my employer declared I was a “safety hazard”. Reluctantly, I was forced to take an early retirement. Even my union steward believed my best option was to accept their offer. I knew my eye-sight was still deteriorating. I also knew the company’s decision was justified, but I was still caught off guard and I was angry. I didn’t think my boss understood the difficulties I was having while I performed my duties.

Life felt like one problem after another.

My first priority: get another job as soon as possible. That proved harder than I expected. I tried applying to other places, but with my obvious vision lost, nobody wanted to hire me. Then my drivers licence was revoked because I failed the visual field test. (A routine eye test used to assess your perception of your peripheral vision). Where are you God?

Then someone encouraged me to contact the C.N.I.B. and it wasn’t too long after I called that a counsellor came down and assessed me.

“I am legally blind,” she told me. Then she began to teach me how to live with my sight impairment. I applied to Ontario Disability Support Program and also purchased some devices and other equipment that helped me.

My outlook brightened.

I also attended a monthly support program. There I became friends with Stephen, Marie, Terry and a few others. It was during one of those sessions when I heard about a knitting class forming. It was my new friend, Stephen’s idea.

So, some of us came to his first class. Although Stephen was blind since birth, his sighted sister decided 30 years ago to show him how to knit. Knitting became his passion, and with all that experience, he wanted to share it with others.

Stephen took the time to teach me how to knit. He placed his hands over mine, guiding them while he explained the process. Knitting became a joy for me too. I practiced over and over again until I felt confident. How many people can say, they were taught how to knit by a blind man?

We started meeting in the conference room of the C.N.I.B. building. There were times when nobody was there to let us in. For those times, we held our class at Williams

Coffee House in the Eaton’s Mall. Eventually we had to find some other place to meet.

That’s when I thought about asking if we could meet at Central.

The following Wednesday we held our next class in the church.

After Covid 19, our knitting class returning with a few changes. We are now “The Gospel Knitters,” and our membership has grown from three to nine members.

When Stephen began having health issues I took over the leadership of the class.

Not only do we love knitting for ourselves, but we knit for the Alzheimer’s Association and for the Brantford General Hospital.

I thank God for His provision. Each one of the Gospel Knitters are part of His family. The best change we made was extending our class to two hours. In our first hour we knit as always but our second hour is dedicated to walking with Our Lord.

We spend twenty minutes in His Word followed by praying for one another.

If our class appeals to you, bring your knitting project and come to the church each Wednesday morning at 10 o’clock. Our purpose statement is found in Colossians 2:2. “that their hearts may be encouraged, being knit together in love, and attaining to all riches of the full assurance of understanding, to the knowledge of the mystery of God, both of the Father and of Christ.” (NKJV)

The puppy barked and bounced as we tried to walk into the house. He danced excitedly around our feet so that we had to be careful to avoid stepping on him. As we shuffled in, one of us scooped him up and his barks turned into licks. I don’t know if dogs can smile, but if they could, this one would have worn a ridiculous grin. As we settled in for a visit with the humans in the room, I noticed that the puppy’s excitement echoed through our emotions and conversation. The reason for the excitement had settled but the associated emotions continued to reverberate through us. 

Walking into another room —this one in a hospital — I remember laboured breathing, harsh hospital cleaner, grief-expectant eyes, a cold dry outstretched hand, and the uselessness of my mouth to say anything that could make such brokenness whole. The sensations passed over me in a moment, but the associated emotions settled in as we spoke and prayed through tears. After, as I sat in my car distanced from the tangible weight of that room, I noticed the emotions from the hospital room continued to echo through me. They stayed with me and coloured the rest of my day. 

Why do emotions do this? Why do they echo after their cause is long gone? 

It seems to me that I often think of my life as a series of disconnected moments. When one moment is past and I am on to the next, I experience surprise and disorientation because of the lasting effects of prior moments. I smile because of the bouncing dog while hearing about a sick relative. I blink back tears because of the hospital room in the middle of the best dad jokes I’ve ever heard. I misunderstand the seasonal nature of time — the duration of one moment bleeding into the next. 

The great “Preacher” (Ecclesiastes 1:1) of the Old Testament said that there is “a time to weep and a time to laugh” (Ecclesiastes 3:4). He calls the collections of moments in his poem “seasons” and “times” (Ecclesiastes 3:1) and he groups them in pairs of opposites: being born and dying, planting and plucking, etc (vv2-8). He precludes the disconnect between moments and implies the overlapping of contradictory emotional sensations in our lives. Our seasons include bouncing puppies and stifling hospital rooms overlaid rather than separated. 

The greatest preacher, Jesus, put it this way, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted … Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you … Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven” (Matthew 5:5,11-12). He marks no barrier of separation between the mourning and the comfort or between the persecution and the joy.  

Jesus knew the emotional echo. After hearing about the death of his cousin, John the Baptist, and then miraculously feeding five thousand people, “he went up on the mountain by himself to pray” (Matthew 14:23). Did he cry sad tears from glad eyes as he talked to his father about the loss of John and the joy of the well-fed crowd? 

Jesus knew the emotional echo — he knows it now. Just as seasons overlap, our emotions overflow the neat borders we’d like to impose on them. Let’s recognize that there is an echo and leave room for it, as Jesus did. As Jesus still does. 

“Come to me, all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). 

If you grew up in church, as I did, you’re familiar with the story of God providing manna to sustain the people of Israel during their forty years of wandering in the wilderness. Perhaps, if you are of my generation, you can picture the flannel-graph board — the origin of media in churches, pre-YouTube.  

It is easy for these stories to seem like just that — stories we read to our children before bed, stories with happy endings that make us feel good. But this account, as well as every adventure of the Israelites recorded in Scripture, is powerful. God inspired faithful men to record these stories, and God has preserved them in His Word for us for a reason.  

As we read in 2 Timothy 3:16, “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness.”  These are much more than feel-good stories to tell our children and grandchildren; they are stories from which people of all ages can learn more about God’s power, love, provision and sovereignty. In short, these Old Testament stories reveal God’s glory.  

Recently, while reading through the book of Exodus, I took some time to slow down and reflect on the story of the miraculous manna – bread from heaven, found in Exodus 16. It is always insightful and good practice to look at the big picture and examine the story within the context of what is happening in the book of the Bible you are reading and studying. God had recently and powerfully delivered His people from Egypt (Ex 12:33-42). Shortly after this (Ex 14), the people found themselves cornered between the Red Sea and the advancing Egyptian army! It seemed there was no way out. But God made a way and parted the sea, allowing them to cross on dry ground. Exodus 15 records the “Song of Moses.” In response to this most recent deliverance, the people rejoiced and sang praises to God for rescuing them from their enemies! Chapter 15 closes with God making the bitter water sweet at Marah (Ex 15:22-26). Once again, God proved Himself to be faithful and able to provide for the needs of His people. He is their Healer (Ex 15:26b).  

That lands us in our story, the story of the manna in Exodus 16. These people had seen and experienced God’s miraculous power in delivering them from Egypt. God had made a way through the seemingly impassable Red Sea and provided them with enjoyable, refreshing drinking water from a bitter spring. We read this and think, Wow, these people have seen God do miracles; what an incredible way to live. It’s so obvious that God was with them and for them. And then Exodus 16:2 says, “The whole congregation of the Israelites grumbled…” “Hold on, they grumbled!” we say in a self-righteous, stuffy tone, quite sure we would not have been part of the grumblers. These people had EVERY reason to rejoice in God. They had just been singing, dancing, and praising God. They turned a corner, set out on the next leg of the journey (Ex 16:1) and forgot who was in control. If we’re honest, it’s us, too, at times.  

But God is a God of unlimited grace. In response to the grumbling, God tells Moses He will send “bread from heaven” so the people will not go hungry, nor will they have to worry about where their food is coming from. Every morning, amid the dew, this bread from heaven (and what they would name manna – Ex 16:31) would appear. God set some regulations for gathering the manna because He knows the sinful hearts of humans. God knows how easily we can turn a good and gracious gift into a mess. The manna would appear six days a week. Every household was to gather enough for that day. No scooping up a few extra baskets just in case God forgot about us tomorrow. Nope – God promised to give them just what they needed daily. There were a few who doubted and gathered extra. The following day, that extra manna stank and was infested with worms – not a pleasant way to wake up in your tent. The only exception was on the sixth day of the week, God instructed them to gather enough manna for two days. That ensured that they would have enough for the Sabbath day and could honour God on the day He had commanded them to rest. And the extra gathered on the sixth day did not spoil overnight. Only a holy, all-powerful, omniscient God could provide and manage all this!  

There are many lessons we can learn from this story. God sent the manna to feed His people, but He also wanted to teach them, and us, what it looks like to trust Him. They learned to act on the grace of God daily by collecting that day’s manna and enjoying it; no restriction or gathering extra for tomorrow was required, except on the sixth day. They also learned to trust that God would provide for tomorrow. I can’t help but think that on the first day, quite a few families had stashed some extra for the next day, but they also learned quickly that their methods and plans were not better than God’s (Pro 16:9).  

We are now in the fourth month of 2025. We do not collect manna from the yard each morning. However, the lessons found in this passage are also for us. What is your “manna?” What is it that you need that you have no way of accomplishing on your own? Where do you need God’s manna  — His gracious provision? What is it in your life that feels impossible and impassable?  

We often focus on the formidable future. We wonder how we will make it through tomorrow. Remember, God only gives manna (grace) for today. Tomorrow’s manna will be there tomorrow. We don’t always know how, but we do know the One Who is able to provide. The manna may not be the cure, the final solution, or the prodigal’s return, but it will be the grace, the supernatural sustaining power that only God can provide to get us through the next stage of our journey. His grace is sufficient for each season, for each day. If God were to give us, or if He had given the Israelites, tomorrow’s manna today, we would start to feel self-sufficient. Before long, we would forget God and start trusting in ourselves. Who needs God when we have everything under control? Suddenly, we are trusting in our abilities, intellect, finances, plans, and so on to meet our needs. The deceitfulness of pride and self-sufficiency can cause us to quickly forget how desperately we need God, every day and in every moment.  

“Act on the grace God gives you today.”¹ Whatever challenge you face today, He will provide the means to take the next step. Gather the manna for today. Every day, we have the opportunity to approach His throne of grace with confidence, to receive mercy, and to find grace to help us in our time of need (Heb 4:16). Pray for His wisdom to see, use, and rejoice in His provision for today.  

“Wait confidently for the grace God will give you tomorrow.”²  Wake up tomorrow with hopeful anticipation of how God will show up and provide for you and those you love. As we take our fears and worries to God, we will grow in our faith in the One who is able and wise to provide what we need when we need it (Ps 90:14).  

¹ Welch, Edward, When I Am Afraid, 20. 

² Welch, Edward, When I Am Afraid, 20. 

Stories of Scotch mist abound. They are so plentiful that one would be led to believe that Scotland is blanketed in a perpetual layer of mist! I can assure you that many a time we have had a clear sunny day! 

As a teen, I used to be a Venture Scout and as a group we would go on hikes in the hills and mountains north of Loch Lomond. They were great day trips that I have never forgotten. If you have read some of my previous Challenge Centrals, you know that I love to walk, and hiking was just another walk along rough paths with beautiful scenery on all sides. 

On one particular outing, our leader Jack led us on a stiff trek. He was born to hike! After a while he gave us instructions and began to outpace us. I found myself in the middle group and was enjoying the hike when slowly the mist began to descend, and as we ascended it began to get thicker. It truly was a Scotch mist. The path was clearly marked giving us no difficulty following where Jack had gone but as time passed the mist got thicker and the exhilaration of being in the mountains waned considerably.  

Soon the path became more rocky and the grassy knolls became rocky outcrops. My group continued around a rock when we heard a familiar voice! Jack, sitting in the shelter of a craggy outcrop comfortably eating his lunch and chiding us for taking so long! Eventually the last group caught up with us and we all enjoyed our lunch in the shelter of those ancient rocks. 

When retelling stories from adventures long past, one can forget the seriousness that the potential circumstances could have brought. Jack was an experienced hill climber but most of us weren’t. Last year a Canadian woman was killed in Italy while climbing surprised by a sudden snowstorm. The Scottish hills claim dozens of lives because hikers are ill-prepared for the often quickly changing conditions. Often someone who is stranded by the mist is found on or near a path lying peacefully but deceased because they have succumbed to hypothermia. 

When we had finished our lunch, we continued our trek, but Jack stayed a bit closer to us, as he should have earlier (a lesson learned?). As we left the comfort of the rocks, we realized that we were at the top of a mountain and on the other side there was no mist but a clear sunny view that covered miles of the countryside. It was breathtaking. We had a renewed spring in our steps as we navigated back to our rendezvous point and finished our day tired but exhilarated from the experience. 

There are a number of applications to my story for the Christian life. Too often we set out unprepared for what can happen, perhaps because we don’t know or perhaps out of carelessness. Preparation is key when facing nature, whether on a short hike or something more advanced. Spiritually we need to be prepared because everywhere there are dangers. Hypothermia is one of the biggest killers in the outdoors. 

Knowing how to read your terrain is crucial and being able to spot potential hazards can be lifesaving. Having the right equipment, even to the point of being over prepared is important. Even having some basic survival items can make a difference. A beautiful day’s outing can easily turn to tragedy very quickly. 

When I think of that day in the mountains of my homeland the great Fanny Crosby hymn comes to my mind: 

A wonderful Saviour is Jesus my Lord  

A wonderful Saviour to me  

He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock  

Where rivers of pleasure I see.  

Change is an unsettling constant. Even in times of regularity and seasons of routine our human experience is defined by change.  

For example, the first day of spring is next week, reminding us that this season will not be like Narnia’s perpetual winter. 

I’ll be celebrating the first day of spring by attending an event called Ministry Leadership Day at Heritage College and Seminary next Thursday (register at: https://discoverheritage.ca/ministry-leadership-day-2025/). The speaker for the day is Mark Vroegop, author of a book called Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy. It’s a powerful book. Vroegop shows the value of biblical lament by wading into several Psalms and the book of Lamentations.  

He writes, “To cry is human, but to lament is Christian,” and “Hard is hard. Hard is not bad.” His book’s counsel is helping me see God’s steady hand as I navigate the loss and gain that accompanies this life’s constant and unsettling changes. I am learning that I can complain to God, pray his own promises to him, and then begin to trust him with whatever change comes next. 

I say change is unsettling because it often comes with a sense of loss. We move to a new house or get a new car and feel like we’re losing the memories we made in the old one. We start a new job and sense the loss of former co-workers. We see the spring grass poking through the winter snow and start to miss sledding or skating (that one is more true for my kids than me!). Even the ever-present process of aging presents changes that often feel like loss when our capacities or circumstances change. 

It’s comforting that lament applies to something as simple as change. As we experience the unsettling sensation of change, we can bring our complaints to the one “with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change” (James 1:17). Though we can’t quite grasp the concept of changelessness, our changeless God never tires of listening to us: “Before they call I will answer; while they are yet speaking I will hear” (Isaiah 65:24). And he will never leave us alone (Lamentations 3:22–24): 

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;  

his mercies never come to an end;  

they are new every morning;  

great is your faithfulness.  

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,  

“therefore I will hope in him.” 

God will never change and we will never stop changing—though someday our changes will be free of brokenness (Revelation 21). This reminds me of a song I remember from my youth group days. All Is Well by Robin Mark. 

Part of it goes like this: 

“All my changes come from Him—He who never changes.  

I’m held firm in the grasp of the Rock of all the ages. 

All is well with my soul. 

He is God in control.  

I know not all His plans. 

But I know I’m in His hands.” 

Change may be an unsettling constant in our lives right now, but our God is creation’s settled constant. He’s listening, keeping his promises, and never leaving us—even in the long dark of winter or the painful loss of change. 

Which of his unchanging promises will you pray back to him this week?