She's 23 Today...

She's my sand-on-the-beach-ocean
cross-country-adventurer
happy-place-mountain-hiker-girl

she's my brave-beyond-words
and
crafter of beautiful words

my pick-yourself-up-off-the-floor-and-keep-pressing-on-
never-give-up-
stronger-than-you-know-
warrior-girl

she's my pizza lover
bed-is-my-friend
glass-of-wine-and-good-book
Grey's-watcher
music-lover
never-stop-thinking
self aware
heart aware
sometimes-too-aware
girl

my all grown up
auburn hair beauty
23 today
but forever
and always
my sweet pea
baby girl.

Love you to the moon and back!
Mama

Seasons

Sporadic and with lengthy pauses in between has seemed the nature of blogging for me these past months.  Yet the outpouring of "life" has never ceased.  Why, after all these years of living on our post-Eden planet do I have this expectation that a calm could actually permeate the spilling out of life???   I was a teenager when Randy Stonehill was belting out the words, "Stop the world I wanna get off."  His words seem prophetic today.

I am well in body and spirit, generally speaking and gratefully expressing, yet many around me are not and as one who has a tendency to carry burdens, I too often find myself weighed down.  The "Drafts" section of my brain is over flowing with words and laments and unfolding dramas but also with breathtaking pictures and joys and hope.  My thoughts however; feel scattered, jumbled and unable to compose something cohesive.  There's too much.  It's too diverse.  Blessings and curses.  Beautiful and horrifying.  What words can capture it all?  Where would I begin?

Shall I highlight the January escape my hubby and I took to Costa Rica...

its warmth and the spirit-strengthening crash of the ocean waves...
the times I spent in the sand while wave after pounding wave
moved me
and
let me laugh like a care-free little girl...

the wonder of waking each morning to "another day in Paradise",  

massages by the ocean and 

endless amounts of rest and togetherness?

Do I list the snail pace progress of my inspiring friend 

9 months post concussion...

the one whose life came crashing down around her 

when her head hit the floor...

the one who counts her blessings and 

has a new gratitude for rain, fog and clouds 

because then her head doesn't hurt so much?

Do I share the joy of baking cookies 

in my daughter's cross-the-country kitchen this past May

 or divulge the heartbreak of her flowing tears 

as we sat on the sandy beach? 

 Can I show you the dancing of my heart 

and the deepest of "eucharisteo", 

this giving of overwhelming thanks 

because after so many years the mental and emotional roller-coaster of health
she's endured

has finally, 

sigh, 

finally, 

stopped

for her...
we pray.

Do I detail my husband's two week tour of the Holy Land...

how he tried to walk on water

but couldn't:)

How the city of Petra rocked his world

and the Mount of the Beatitudes enabled him 

to see Jesus...

how he will never read the Bible the same way again

because he was there

where Jesus

walked.

Do I inform you of the bittersweet changes in my faith community...

how my beloved pastor and friend "retired"

in a manner of speaking,

and how our wonderfully gifted Associate pastor

stepped into her own size of Senior Pastor shoes?

Shall I post of the ways this bitter and sweet collide over and over

again in my psyche...

how I am embracing the new and

missing the former

simultaneously?

Would you like to peak into Sonya's month long stay in Ecuador
being an "unofficial" wedding planner for her sister
and Cam's 3 bachelor weeks at home where he refinished
a curb-side desk for his beloved wife?
Or shall I highlight their shared time in the mountains of Ecuador,
when they eventually reunited,
adventuring with family and witnessing the "forever's" of
newly married couple?

Do you have the stomach to hear of the endless suffering path
of my dear warrior friend who has now been told--
Stage Four --Incurable?
Do you have time to listen to me recount our endless prayers
for pain relief,
for healing,
for a miracle?
Do you know something of the daily running into the power of God's
silence...
the mystifying mystery of
Sovereignty...
where all you have to hold out to Him is
open,
trembling hands...
of trust
that even in
this
He is still
good.

I could share with you the delights of time spent with my
walking partner and friend...
the way we greet each other with gratitude
for the haven of our friendship
and then walk and talk through our life struggles
on the trails behind our condo.
I could recount the painful realities of her life
caring for a husband
four years post stroke,
three years post autoimmune disease,
2 years post cancer.
I know...
enough already!
Yet she soldiers on...

There's more.
More people
more stories
more delights
more struggles
more pain...

I wrote all of this while lounging on a massive King size bed...
I know
there is only one size of a King bed!!
My husband and I were in the same luxury hotel
we spent the first two nights of our honeymoon
almost 27 years ago.
That we were blessed to return
  for an all expense paid two nights compliments of a
financial institution,
oh my!!!
I came crazy grateful for such a gift and
welcoming a rest.
My world seemed to slow...
at least enough for me to
"get of"f and
catch my breath.

Now back home I revisit my words
and notice
 in the writing of these thoughts
what they all have in common...
a theme that they collectively share...

Seasons...
the same seasons the writer of Ecclesiastes spoke of
in times past.
That life unspools in seasons of
"every activity"
is nothing new.

"For everything there is a season,
a time for ever activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
A time to plant and a time to harvest.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to cry and a time to laugh.
A time to grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.
A time to embrace and a time to turn away.
A time to search and a time to quit searching.
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear and a time to mend.
A time to be quiet and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate.
A time for war and a time for peace."
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

This collage of life I have been a part of is a
 web of
seasons.
It will always be this way while on planet earth.
But I'm reminded that it's God who ordains the seasons
in His sovereignty.
And I will move through them more smoothly
when I remember this.

The Interweaving that is Mother's Day

It's been soooo long since I have posted and I very much miss putting words on a page.  Even in this moment, as much as I desire to share my thoughts, the generous amount of time that this would require is not available today.  But my longtime and dear friend and pastor Ruth Anne, has written so beautifully about the vast amount of interweaving that is Mother's Day.  Her words aptly describe the ways in which the bitter and the sweet, the fullness and the emptiness, the celebration and the sadness are interwoven throughout this set-apart day.

I feel such interweaving in my own life.

I am a motherless daughter, a step-daughter a Mama and a Mama-in-law.
Within my spirit I carry a great deal:
...a longing for my long-missed mother,
...a gratitude for a devoted stepmom,
...a "grace of God" healing for all that has unfolded in my life
...and a deep and full joy in being a Mama and Mama-in-law.
 It all intertwines.

How beautiful that someone has printed words which echo my own heart.

For all the Moms

The Joy of Lent

It was my Spiritual Director who introduced me to the Joy of Lent.  After I had shared with her my Lenten challenge to give up worry and fear and take on trust, she expressed her desire that I would still be able to enjoy Lent given the weightiness of what I had taken on.  I went home that afternoon wondering what it could mean to en"joy" this season of what I felt was to be a time of sombre reflection.  The following day she explained it as being able to  experience joy in Christ's sacrificial love for me.

It's not that I haven't been aware of my need for my Savior these past weeks, because I have.  But yesterday I failed overwhelmingly in my battle to give up worry and fear.  The previous two weeks I had gratefully been receiving some victory in this battle.  It had required much discipline on my part but it was exciting and hope-filled for me!  Friday morning it was as though I had neglected to put on my armor at the start of the day.  And as the day unfolded I became more and more entangled in worry and fear as various situations transpired.  It wasn't until evening that it hit me like a ton of bricks, "I haven't released any of this to God!!  What happened???"  How did I move through an entire day without  remembering that, "God's Got This!"?????

My journal entry this morning reads--

"I am ashamed and remorseful and disappointed in myself.  But now, this is the "Joy of Lent"-- to shed my sin in exchange for His garment of righteousness.  To leave behind the sin which so easily entangles me (worry and fear) and run with endurance the race set before me. (Hebrews 12:1)

It's the next verse which caught me--"We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith.  (verse 2)  NLT

My journal continues--

"When I keep my eyes on Jesus, he is the one who initiates my faith and perfects it.  This is not my doing!!!  Oh how beautiful this is to me.  Thank you Jesus for this vital truth I often miss.  Too many times I think the measure of my faith is up to me when in fact, WHO I keep my eyes fixed on is what lies under my control.  But faith--this is Jesus' doing.

I would so much rather have reveled in the "Joy of Lent" through some other means.  I'm not sure this is fully possible.  Is it not in the despair and shame of sin that the beauty of the cross and the burden of Christ's sacrifice is experienced?  It's when my spirit is humbled and sin is forgiven that I experience anew this Joy!! 

I take this Joy with me on this Lenten path.

Lent--"God's Got This"

"A 

ruthless giving up of 

fear and worry

and a

relentless discipline

of taking on

trust"

There's no end to the variety of things I could give up for Lent and I have toyed with some of these things. But this past Sabbath when I began to seriously think about this aspect of Lent I was in a place of being overwhelmed again with the heavy "burdens" of some that I love.  I think I use the word burden to cover up the reality of worry as well as the heavy weight I carry that I MUST in some way relieve the pain.  And yes, God has called us to not only love and pray for those under trial as well as tangibly care.  This isn't hard for me to do.  There seems to be this river of compassion which is always flowing within but so often it floods me in ways which are are not healthy for me.

And so, while it may sound and seem simplistic or perhaps even impossible to give up something which comes to me quite naturally, I can attest that this will not be as easy as giving up chocolate!  Worry and fear are a part of my life and though God and I have been pushing back against this for countless years, it's still my default in the dailyness of life. 

I don't want it to be this way.  I waste so much energy worrying over things I have no control over and being afraid of  that which should not imprison me.  I so deeply desire to be constantly laying on Jesus my worries and fears instead of marinating myself in them.  I feel like this pattern has got to stop!  Jesus wants it to stop!  He longs for me to live in freedom and trust even more than I do!  It would be beautiful if I could default to trust, wouldn't it??  Oh my!!

Some of you may feel it's impossible to slay these ugly dragons.  For sure heaven is the place where shalom will perfectly blanket me, but if Jesus is really who He says He is, then He is able to change me, to grow me, to mold me more and more into His image.  I believe this.  And my part is laid out for me.  I use the words ruthless, relentless, discipline for a reason.  Because it's what it will require of me.  I'm weary enough of the drag-me-down way that worry and fear deplete me, that my motivation to do some serious battle is high.  

A friend of mine who is now with Jesus had a beautiful mantra throughout her cancer journey.  Despite the way in which her story was unfolding she would say with confidence--"God's got this".  The banner at the back of the church on the evening of her Celebration of Life shouted--"God's got this!"  And in her husband's closing words at the service he claimed--"God's got this".

I think of her mantra often, but I don't consistently live it.  I know that those words were not easy for her or her family to speak.  But believing "God's got this" and still experiencing a breathless agony of sadness are not the same.   So though I long to live with open hands to this God whom I worship, I will continue to honor the emotions He created me with which include sorrow.

It's time to step into enemy territory with the Trinity by my side.  It's time to "ruthlessly give up fear and worry and relentlessly discipline myself to take on trust".  

This year I am grateful to share this Lenten journey with a dear friend.   I feel  honored to take up this battle alongside of her. 

Together we will seek to ruthlessly give up worry and fear.
Together we will relentlessly discipline ourselves to take on trust. 
Together we will fight to believe that God's got this.

Amen...so be it! 

"Trust" 2018

"We know how much God loves us,

and we have put our trust in his love."

--1 John 4:16

The last number of years I have moved away from making resolutions for the upcoming year and towards finding a word that I believe God would desire that I emulate in the coming days.

The latter part of 2017 seemed full of crisis and suffering in the lives of some that I love.  I struggled to make sense of much that was unfolding.  My spirit was filled with empty answers to all of the "why's".  In the latter days of this past year the Spirit of God called me to a new place; a place of trust.  I have never been able to dwell in this place for very long.  I am so quickly driven off course by the ever changing circumstances of life.  I don't like this about myself.  I long for a deeper abiding faith; one which is not tossed around by what I or others are faced with.

When I read the above verse just days ago I knew immediately that trust was my word for the coming year and that this verse encapsulated the basis of such trust.  I paused to ask the question the verse was begging--"Do I trust His love?"  This truly is the crux of the matter for me.  Do I know how much God loves me and do I then trust in this love?  Because if I am unsure of His love, if there is any question in my mind of the vastness of His love, I will then find my trust weakened to this degree. 

I know the answer to the question.

I only trust His love to the degree that I can humanly measure it.  In other words, when God acts in a way that I feel is unloving, my trust disintegrates and I begin to doubt and question and fight against Him.  It's completely unfair to God. God is not the problem here but rather this god I worship called "control" is.  When life feels out of control, mine or otherwise, I move towards fear and away from trust.  I grasp to regain this pseudo control I think I have.

The last few months have found my spirit tired of the yoyo trust/fear cycle.  It's exhausting, discouraging and such a waste of my energy.  My heart's desire is to move into the coming year growing in trust.  And growing this deeper trust will only come through having His love be the bedrock of my faith.  If I truly believe that God loves me like crazy, that He is not holding out on me, then I will be free to trust Him and rest in His ways despite the hard that might unfold.

Last winter I spent every other Wednesday with a group of women, pouring over the scriptures together.  One line has remained engraved on my mind and was later creatively drawn on wood by my niece.  "Think well enough of Jesus to trust Him", challenges Dallas Willard.  These words hang in my hallway as a constant reminder of the growing that lies ahead of me.

The hard of the last few months will carry over into this new year. I am already feeling the heaviness. The life circumstances my friends are facing did not magically disappear as the calendar page turned.  What lies ahead for me personally is unknown.  But God still is.  He is my only place of stability, my only constant.  He will guide me into deeper places of trust as I invite Him into the coming days.

He is Here

Advent and Hope

I am so here and ready for Advent.  I know Advent is about the waiting for Christ to come, but I have been waiting for Advent to arrive!!!!  There has been so much that has unfolded in the lives of some beautiful friends of mine and I feel hungry, starved even, for a fresh and deep and profound encounter with Jesus.

This first week is on Hope.  We use this word quite loosely this days--

I hope it doesn't rain tomorrow
I hope I don't get caught in traffic on the way to this appointment.
I hope chicken is on sale this week at the grocery store.

Of course there is nothing wrong with stating these words. 

But for sure they pale in comparison to the one who is hoping that this week she will receive the results of her husband's tests that they've been waiting for.  And she hopes that this gives her clearer direction for how to plan for tomorrow and next week and the week after. In all honesty her hope of one day being free from the overwhelming stress and energy of full-time care-giving lies in one of two options:  she places her husband in long term care or...he dies. How's that for brutal reality?

Hope takes on a new intensity for my friend who wonders if she is strong enough to travel over Christmas and if she does, will the effects on her and her family be manageable and worth it. She hopes for the day she can drive again, return to work...even make a complete meal without resting in between each task.  Last week, her eyes looked "awake" for the first time since the middle of September.  Her smiling eyes looked like hope.

And for yet another friend, her journey from cancer to cancer free lasted only months before some cruel joke began to poke at her battered body.  And now Hope pleads and begs that tomorrow she will be healed from intolerable pain that the medical community has yet to diagnose.  And it's been three months!!!!!!! She hopes that one day we will laugh together again, that life will offer more than just existing or escaping to sleep. 

This is the perspective of Hope that none of want to have to come face to face with but many of us will at some point in our lives.  Right now, three of my friends are living it.  And in being even a small part of their journey, I find I am living in hope with them.

Needing Hope to light my pathway is not a foreign experience for me.  I have prepared for Christmas in the past where hope was barely a word I could utter.  The darkness of life had so enveloped me that truly I felt bereft of any hope.  And yes, to the point where even my hope in God was shaken.  No one wants to hear this.  Even Christians don't want to hear these words.  It makes people uncomfortable to hear a Christ follower say, "I have no hope.".  Because what does that say about the incredible grace and mercy and love of God who is our eternal hope???!!!!!  Truthfully, I don't think it reflects on God at all.  What it does say is, "In my frail humanity and because of the depth of my suffering, I have lost all hope...I can't even see God."  And what do we need... what do we desire in such dark seasons in our lives???  Not a neatly put together spiritual response of how God must be using this for good somewhere down the road!!  No, we desire someone to cry with us and hold us, and say "I'm sorry your pain is that deep, but I will hold out hope for you when you are unable.  I will stay on this journey longing, praying, hoping...

So today as I opened my Advent devotional and began reading about expectations and hope I have these three friends (and others) pictured in my mind.  And I hope and pray with a deep longing and pleading that these women will sooner rather than later experience the fruit of their practice of hope.  And on those days when hope is hidden behind the darkness I will keep my hope alive for them.
Sometimes this is all we can do...
We pray and pray...
and Hope.

Downsizing the Season

I knew in September that without a revised Christmas plan I would default to the original which clearly was not working.  Every thought of the upcoming season filled me with a sense of overwhelming dread.  And yet there is much about this season which I take great delight in.  For as long as I can remember I started out with a well intentioned plan but somewhere along the way it took on a life of its own and I would end up tired, stressed and feeling like I had failed again. 

It was in my search for an Advent Devotional for this year that I stumbled upon a fresh look at the season that is now upon us.     Alexandra Kuykendall is the wise author of "Loving My Actual Christmas--An Experiment in Relishing The Season".  As I read some of her thoughts I felt like perhaps God would use this woman to somehow give me direction to the days that so often tie me up in knots. Tomorrow is the beginning of Advent,and while I have clearly not yet delved into the readings, I did immediately pore over a section of "helps".  This was well over a month ago and it became the catalyst which has guided me the past number of weeks.  

I sequestered myself for two weeks earlier in November and dove into Christmas cards, shopping and decorating. Yes, my Christmas tree and decor was lighting up our home several weeks ago already!  My hubby is helping me wrap gifts as I write this.:)  All of this was necessary if I am to have any hope of some of the calm and enjoyment and purpose that I desire in this season. December is, by nature, full.  What I didn't want was to leave the above mentioned preparation to put into a month that is already at its limit.  There's so much in these coming days which compels my heart to have a clearer focus----

Tomorrow brings the first Sunday of Advent.  This spiritual practice has grown in importance to me year by year. Oh may it increase even more this season!!    How I pray that these days of waiting- anticipation for the coming of Immanuel, that these times of reflection and prayer, will move me ever closer in love for my Savior!

I only have 2 1/2 weeks with my daughter this Christmas and within those days I am also required to "share" her.  I so want to  have these December days as time devoted to her and the rest of my family.  

Already I am walking into December with several friends facing dark times.  It's important for me that my heart has places with energy and time to continue giving to these dear ones.  

These are the places I yearn for my heart to have time for.  I knew I needed to actively pursue a new trajectory if I was to even come near to what I long for.

Still, despite all plans and pursuits, there is the unfolding of life which is no respecter of seasons.  My plans and desires are nothing that can be engraved in stone.  "Loving My Actual Christmas" will have wisdom to share to guide me in all the unplanned moments which lie beyond today.  The title even proposes this reality--we will all have our own "actual Christmas".  

Immanuel

as I wait for You to come

I pray that I will

greet each new day with 

open hands

humble trust

and a spirit ever open to Yours

so I may 

love my actual Christmas.

As Reality Sets In

"I can't picture her living anywhere else but neither can I imagine her not being close."

The tension in these words are the closest I can understand and articulate when it comes to how I feel about my girl living on the other side of the country.

Since she pulled up roots and left the province a little over two years ago, I have moved through various thought processes.  And even though I was aware that she was planning to stay after graduation, that reality is setting in.  In some ways it felt like she was gone on this long term vacation adventure.  There was always another semester around the corner and I think it teased me into feeling like this was somehow temporary.  But she just signed a one year lease November 1 and is currently tweaking and re-tweaking her resume so she can apply for a "big girl job" as she puts it. 

Three weeks from today she comes home for Christmas.  I can hardly wait until she's home and yet...I can.  Because being on this side of Christmas holds a wealth anticipation.  The other side speaks of goodbye which seems far too big for my Mama's heart to grasp.  

A couple of nights ago I was hit with a rushing panic about the miles between us.  A trying-to-catch-the-sucking-air from leaving my heart kind of panic.  

She's soooooooooo far away!  I can never just drive over to her home for the evening!  We can't go out shopping for an afternoon unless I get on a plane!!  Which I will do, but the extravagance of spontaneously hitting a mall together tomorrow is not a reality.  And I just don't know if I can do this "forever."  

For my girl, Vancouver is home...for now.  But even she can't imagine always having to get on a plane in order to see her family!  She has her own aching heart.  

How can life be like this!!??

So as reality sets in, for this Mama--

I will remember that so many other Mama's live with the same piece of their heart missing and mostly they are making it work.  

I will remember that "for now" does not mean forever and that really I am only to live a day at a time anyway.

And I will keep in that sacred place this deep sense of gratitude which is said so eloquently by Winnie the Pooh--"How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."

 

Sisters

The "tomorrow" of October 10 has come and gone and I have been home with bags unpacked for over a week now.

My memories of this time away are still near to my thoughts which is a lovely  place for them to be I find.  In some ways they are effortless to recount and yet in other ways I feel as though more took place in those 7 days than I can fully put words to.

In a short and succinct way, I had an amazing time.  It was rich to be in the space my sister now calls home...to laugh and work and relax and shop and eat and walk and sleep and put faces to names of friends.  It was beautiful to do life together from sun up til sun down for a stretch of days.

I slept on a mattress covered with memories.  The quilt which warmed me at night was the same one which spread across our bed in our upstairs farmhouse bedroom.  A touch like this to my sleeping hours is something I can't put words to.  There's so much wrapped up in the threads of this covering.

The growing up years are for the early stages of discovering who we are as individuals and throughout our lives, we continue to unfold yet more and more.  It was interesting for both of us, now as adults, to interact with each other in ways that we have never previously done.

We worked well together with comfort and ease; a delightful thing to discover, and very helpful for sorting through boxes!!  There was never a time where I noticed an edge in either of us.  We seemed to glide smoothly through the days.  I suppose you could suggest that we were both on our best behavior, but I think it had more to do with each of us sharing similar patterns of living.

We both like to eat healthy which makes grocery shopping and meal preparation an enjoyable affair.

Neither of us have to have the best of everything which means perfection was not the goal of setting up her home.

My sister has a quiet, relaxed way about her, a serenity even, which I often lack.  I benefited greatly from following her lead in the pace of our days.  It's a way of living and being that I am endeavoring to have flow through my days.

We share a desire to be self aware and within that comes a natural way of expressing our thoughts and feelings.  We both, for varying reasons had moments of tears and could simply and honestly express what was behind the struggle sliding down our cheeks.  In turn, the other quietly listened without  a compulsion to ebb the flow or fix the problem.  I love this about us. 

As very young and impressionable girls we shared the tragic loss of our mother.  Our lives have been forever changed by this day in our history.  Each of us found ourselves in that ocean of grief in different times in our adult lives and over time opened the silence of our grief to one another.  That our pain bears a strong collective component is no surprise.  The embracing of our pain has in turn enabled us to embrace each other in a unique and intimate way.   There are not always words for moments.  We have lived these moments in shared silence.  I wonder if this isn't a part of the reason why I feel inept to capture and put into words our week together.  It was like there was a part of our being together as sisters which was sacred for us.  For sure it was for me.

So I won't force words where none should be.

Even what I have written feels unfinished, lacking...

I will hold this time near to my grateful heart and let this be enough.