Wilmot Wife

An Open Letter to My Husband

2017-05-06T13:50:00.000-04:00

I have the heart knowledge that I married the best man I have ever known, but sometimes my brain forgets.

Complaining has to be one of the laziest pastime's in existence. It takes no effort or skill to look around and see reasons to be disappointed. We might be able to claim cleverness in the way we deliver the zinger part of the time, but we are lazy all of the time if we choose to express dissatisfaction rather than gratitude.

As strife has increased in my life, I have slipped into a mindset of resentfulness. I have decided not to offer up any explanations or justifications in this paragraph. The characteristics of our humanity comes with pros and cons. This one is a con; that wrong thinking leads me to so say wrong and do wrong. Therefore, I leave here an open letter to my husband where I offer repentance and appreciation.

"Kevin, recently, I could have afforded you more credit than I gave. The lists of your

admirable qualities and acts of kindness are extensive, yet I can easily summarize them.

You have loved me well. Since the beginning of 'us', you have been a constant source of

comfort and strength; even when I was undeserving. Whether we are relaxing under the

warmth of a brilliant sun, or navigating through a fierce storm on a dark night, I am

grateful that you are by my side guiding and supporting me. For who you are and all that

you do, I honour you. I love you."

How a Kitchen Aid Mixer Taught Me an Important Lesson on Gratitude

2017-04-26T23:13:00.000-04:00

You know that little voice in your head that prompts you to do things? Sometimes, it's hard to know what's Spirit and what is flesh. For many months now, I keep hearing "Write." I, of course, ask a zillion questions about what to write. "Just write," is the returning answer. Seeing how these two words are not going away, I am dusting off this old blog. I have a lot of reservations about what I may end up saying. But if I am just to start writing, I might as well start with the lesson I've learned from owning a Kitchen Aid Stand Mixer.

I am a little weary tonight. Today, I spent hours cataloging items to post for sale on social media and Kijiji. I am thankful to God, that I have made quite a few sales. He is always good, though! Shortly before 8 pm, I was pacing back and forth in my living room. My 3 year old was already in bed. My 17 month old was still up. I held him on my hip. We both stared out the back window at the yard, and the park, and the street beyond. The sun was setting. I was not looking forward to this last transaction. I was fighting second thoughts as well as the temptation to give into self-pity. After planting a long kiss on my little guy's cheek, I said to him, "I don't want you to ever think that we are anything other than rich." Compared to billions of other people on this planet, we are very rich indeed. I was trying to convince myself of this because it felt like the opposite. Let's just say that I haven't been selling things for extra spending money. As my husband and I are getting serious about being extracted from the current circumstance, it seemed like an appropriate time to sell the Kitchen Aid mixer.

The "we are rich" mantra helped me get through the exchange. I sold it for less than I wanted. I wanted to not sell it at all. The lady who came to collect it eyed me up and down as if I were a possible con artist. She seemed incredulous that there could be nothing wrong with the mixer. "Just accept you got a colossal deal and get out my house," is what I wanted to say. Baby on my hip, cash in hand, I closed the door after she left. Despite myself, tears came. My flesh was entreating me to sit down and feel sorry for myself for awhile. Should I not feel wretched that it has come to this? For a moment, I entertained the idea of giving into that dull feeling in my stomach. Then I looked into my youngest's sweet and honest face. Since his infancy, he has a manner of looking at me with such innocence that it pierces through any pretension that I may have unearthing the truth.

How could I feel bad about what had just happened? How many women are out there who have sold their actual child (no less sweeter or precious than mine) in exchange for money or food? That is what real lack looks like. I am blessed beyond measure that I had an appliance I could sell used for $150. How many mothers out there have handed over their young to a stranger for less money than I received for that mixer?! I do not actually have a statistic to insert here. Let's be honest though, any number above zero is obscene. This thought sobered me instantly. "We are rich." I said again. Now that I could put my baby to bed, I rocked him in the most comfortable chair in the world. Seriously, I slept 6 straight hours in it once. Looking at my youngest boy, I felt a peace. I knew I had done the right thing. I began to recall how I came to get the mixer in the first place. Despite the fact that this appliance is the most coveted item on a typical wedding registry, I never wanted it. I was actually angry when it was given to me.

It was my 20th birthday and I was anxious. My father was coming over. My parents had separated a few months earlier. I had been avoiding him as best as I could. The dread of his attendance was coupled with irksome news that he was bringing a gift. My mother knew about it and was trying to prepare me. "It better not be something big or expensive!" This wasn't said out of pretence. I meant it. I wanted nothing from him. He arrived while I was in my room. After a few deep breaths, I walked down the hall into the living room. There it was. A big wrapped box was waiting for me in front of the couch. Every muscle in my body reacted to the frustration I was feeling. Of course, the Kitchen Aid mixer is a marvellous appliance. It eventually became the piece de resistance of my kitchen for many years. At that moment, though, the sight of it angered me. I knew that this gift, charged no doubt on a department store credit card, was purchased with the design of purchasing me. It was to buy back my time, my affection, my good opinion. None of these things were for sale. To avoid leaving an impression that I was spoiled or ungrateful, I should explain what had happened 5 months before my birthday.

We have moments that change us. No one is exempt from this. Sometimes the moments are good, and other times they are bad. The goal is that if our mind and outlook are to be unavoidably altered, pray God that it be to our benefit and that of others. This was a bad moment.

It was on a sunny Tuesday when my mother and I learned that his pornography addiction had gotten out of control. I was still asleep when the cops showed up at our home with a search warrant. Who needs coffee with a wake up call like that? He was formally charged a few weeks later. It should be clear now as to why I looked at this extravagant birthday gift with contempt.

Life has many recurring themes coursing through it. Tonight, I was twice given the sobering reminder of how poorly the rest of the world lives. Twelve years ago, a mixer was purchased by a man, who had immersed himself into the realm of child exploitation, with the hope that he could redeem himself in his daughter's eyes. Today, it was sold by a woman, who was blessed to not have to immerse herself into the realm of child exploitation, with the confidant expectation that she will always be able to provide for her family.

There is not a single doubt in my mind that my Abba God cares about our cares. He values the most trivial things that matter to us. This almost made me cancel the sale tonight. I equally know that God doesn't want us to put too high of a value on our possessions; for where our treasure is, there our heart is also.

I follow Kristen Welch from the We Are That Family blog. I also sponsor one of the girls at the Mercy House (a blessed organization that she founded). Here is a woman of God who will challenge you in your outlook on life. I appreciate and admire her passion and message! This may seem like a random plug, but if you visit her website, you will not only see the connection but be inspired.

Old Family Pastry Recipe

2012-09-04T16:44:00.002-04:00

I have enjoyed baking as long as I can remember. I'm sure that a lot of us have similar memories of standing on kitchen chairs, honoured to contribute in anyway to the preparation and gleefully stalking the oven window while nibbling on the remaining bits of batter. I predominantly remember making snickerdoodles with my Mom and hearth bread and tea scones with my Dad. Kitchen memories are so cozy and heart-warming.

My mother remembers pie making from her childhood. My Grandma had quite the hand at pie filling, but no patience for pastry, which worked great because her mother was an excellent pastry maker. I visualize my mother's stories of watching her mother and grandmother collaborate on pie making. I can imagine my Mom with her short golden blond hair and her striking freckles hanging out in a 1940's kitchen, waiting as anxiously for the pies as I did for cookies and tea scones.

I was thrilled to have the opportunity to create my own pie-making memories with one of my sister-in-laws. I was fortunate to get a copy of my Great-Grandmother's pastry recipe. Neither Marcy or I had ever made pastry. Both novices, we gathered our ingredients, prepared our pie fillings and gave it our best shot. I cooked up chicken-pot pie filling the night before, and she whipped up two different fruit pie fillings on the fly (one strawberry, the other raspberry). Though we said it ourselves, echoed by other willing taste-testers, our first stab at pastry making was indeed a success!

Strawberry Pie (left), Chicken Pot Pie (right)

I was very nervous as I scanned the recipe. I had always heard that pastry was supposed to be kept as cold as possible and that the lard is cut in rather than melted, but this recipe called for the lard to be melted on a stove top. I was left with two pots of translucent liquid. I called my mother in a panic before my sister-in-law arrived. Unfortunately, my Grandma is not around to give me tips and my mother had been too little at the time to recall. Feeling my nerves rising, I prayed that my baking date would not be a complete disaster. With a little Google research, I discovered that this was a "Hot-Water Pastry" recipe. Who knew? I learned that it was good to use with heavier pie fillings. That worked for me and my chicken pot pie, too!

By the end of the morning, we were chatting, rolling our dough, laughing at our awkward moments in handling our pastry, and trying to add nice details to our uncooked masterpieces. You can see by the picture that Marcy's has all the aesthetics that mine lacks! I was shocked at how easy it was to make such delicious pastry. With no experience or assistance, we pulled it off! After a quick clean up, we enjoyed some herbal tea and the wafting aroma of buttery pastry, herbed chicken and sweet berries.
Of course, you are on this site to get a pastry recipe, aren't you? And some of you have probably scrolled down by-passing my paragraphs. Enough, then! Here is my old family pastry recipe for one shell.

½ c. shortening (cut into 1 inch cubes)
¼ c. boiling water

1. Melt on stove or in a warm place.

2. Beat until cold & creamy.

3. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.

1 ½ c. flour (all-purpose)
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/8 tsp. baking soda

4. Sift into bowl and mix.

5. Beat shortening & water into flour with wooden spoon.

6. Stir until smooth ball is formed.

7. Refrigerate 1 hour.

8. Roll out dough on ample floured surface, taking care not to over handle.

9. Wrap ready-shell around the rolling pin and unwrap into the pie shell.

10. Spoon in filling.

The dough will keep for 8 to 10 days.

If you require 2 shells, double recipe except the baking soda.

**For fruit pies, making the boiling water ½ lemon juice and ½ water. Add 1 Tbsp sugar to every 1 ½ cups of flour.

As for the tasty pie fillings? I do not know Marcy's recipe. To my recollection, she used 2 cups of berries mixed with sugar and possibly water and heated it up in a frying pan. It made a thick, gooey berry mixture. The chicken pot pie filling is not my own recipe. It is from the Hillbilly Housewife's
Freezer Cooking Made Simple E-book. I recommend the resource and the recipes in it; especially the Chicken Pot Pie. Not helpful? Well, the family heirloom I offer you is the pastry recipe, what can I say? :-) But now is the chance for you to find the recipe for the pie of your dreams, use this 100 year old recipe, and create your own proud to serve masterpiece!

Have questions or suggestions? There is a comment section waiting just for you!

Did you know that it's "My Husband is Awesome" day?!

2012-08-27T15:15:00.000-04:00

I love blogs. Particularly blogs written by women. More so, blogs written by Christian women. Call me biased, I don't care, I love them. Ladies, if you have spare time to kill on the internet (I know you do because we all make time for it), check out some blogs. Don't know where to start? Just ask me! There are so many sisters in Christ out there who have the mission to encourage, teach, and lead by example when it comes to the roles of Wife and Momma. Today, I am linking up with Jessica Bowman from Bohemian Bowmans who is one of my new favourites. She and her family have moved up to B.C. from the States and I think we should give them a warm Canadian welcome. Even if some of us may live 4,050 km away! She has declared it "My Husband is Awesome Day" and has challenged wives to list the ways that their husband is...well...awesome! So here it goes!

Kevin knows how much God loves him. That may seem like an odd place to start because most Christians know God loves them, but, truthfully, I rebut that not all necessarily have the scope of how much they are loved. The Holy Spirit has used Kevin to teach me many great things and to challenge old belief systems that are man-made, not God-inspired. Every day (sometimes more than once), Kevin will say, "Who is the one who Jesus loves?" That is my cue to say ME! He puts more emphasis on the Father's love for me than that of his own. Which leads me to the second thing...
Kevin loves me. He expresses and demonstrates his love to me all the time. I sometimes whine that he doesn't say it enough. Or I might pout if he doesn't immediately respond when I tell him that I love him. That is insecurity talking; insecurity that is slowly fading, I am happy to say! Kevin is always building me up through his love.
Kevin compliments me. I never knew my Mom's dad, so I cherish every story of Mr. James that I can get my ears near. Mom told me that after every meal, Grandpa would boast about my Grandma, "Florence, that was the best supper I ever had!" It was either the best chicken, best roast beef, best dessert, etc. Well Kevin is a compliment-boaster, too! "That is best chicken!" "These are my new favourite potatoes!" It goes beyond cooking, too. No matter what pair of pants or shirt I put on, he always says, "When did you get that? I have never seen that on you before." Even though he has. "Those are my new favourite pants on you!" "That is my new favourite top. Wear it as much as possible!" To someone like me, who has dealt with insecurities on my physique going back to early childhood, this means the world to me. To be found captivating does my feminine heart good (even when I am feeling fat and frumpy!). In everything and everywhere, Kevin is always declaring things his "new favourites." One to #4!
Kevin knows how to stay positive. As I said before, Kevin loves to declare his "new favourites!" With each new restaurant we eat at, trail we explore, or bench we sit on, it is always "our new favourite place!" I love his ever-evolving enthusiasm. Now, is he positive 24/7? no... I can't fathom anyone being so, but maybe that is pessimistic of me. But even when Kevin has his slumps into the dumps, it is usually temporary. Give him a few minutes of silence, and he will come back to the topic or situation and recant what ever negative comment he has made. I am a naturally sarcastic person, so it is easy for me to be negative. Kevin leads by example and it encourages me to guard my thoughts and comments and search for the positive instead of celebrating the negative.

I have listed just four, but there are many many more! These are my favourites. These are some of my awesome husband's attributes that make me miss him while he is gone and giddy as a girl when he comes home.

Now it's your turn, ladies! Whether you are wives or widows, if you have an awesome husband, go on and give him some public credit! List a few things on your blog! Don't have a blog, add a comment to this post or on facebook or twitter. And most importantly, share them with the awesome husband in question!

Want to hear some other women boast of their husband? Click on the "My Husband is Awesome" header at the top of the post and it will link you back to the Bohemian Bowmans:My Husband is Awesome

Let's give thanks to the Lord for all of His blessings!

Also linked-up with....

Being Happy Where You Are

2012-08-17T18:08:00.000-04:00

I have to say that I have had a great week! Despite some rainy patches, we have had nice sunny, but slightly cooler days. We had opportunities to show hospitality to friends and family through surprise drop-ins, scheduled visits, sleep-overs & a baking date. I showed off my new town this week to two dear friends. I'm very proud of this quaint little corner of Wilmot Township. It is such a change from Hamilton, my home town of which I am also proud. There is truth to the saying that a change is as good as a rest. At some point or other, we are taught that there is great merit in being content with what we have in the location where we have it. Of course that is easier when you are in a great place in your life. It is another story when you are miles away from where you would like to be. Even still, although Kevin and I chose this place because we liked it, there are adjustments, drawbacks and details that need to be sorted out still. There are days when I feel isolated and resent that the Timmies is a 15 to 20 minute walk away, but not this week! This week, I got out, went into new shops, had conversations with new people and it was satisfying!

Partly why I am in such a good mood is because I had an awesome bake date with my sister-in-law. It is common to have more recurring chances to spend time with people over others. We both have a love for the good ol' days and, I dare say, a streak of Betty Crocker flowing through our veins. I will write more about our baking day featuring our "masterpieces" under the section In Her Footsteps later on. Suffice to say, it was such a comforting and natural feeling to be in a kitchen with my red polk-a-dot apron on, rolling pastry dough. I was nervous at the beginning because I had never tried this recipe and had never made pastry. Fortunately, neither had she. It's an elating feeling to try something new and for it to come up just as you had hoped. After some herbal tea and a nice chat, it was time for her to pick up the boys and I decided to go into town.

New Hamburg has there sidewalk sale this week. Shop owners display their cheapest items on a sidewalk stand. I must say some deals were better than others. All in all, between two days of shopping, I have done well. There was just something so relaxing about walking into town through a shady neighbourhood. I strolled past all the store fronts with all the time in the world to spend.

There are some tables that I stalked, weighing the costs and analyzing the greatness of the deals. I surveyed the books in the Upper Case Bookstore. It is a pity that the internet is slowly causing cozy little book stores to close their doors. I don't often buy my books online, but I do like to go where I can get a good price. I wonder if there is a way to balance deal finding and supporting your local merchants. Hmm... that is another topic all together. While I was in the store, I had in mind to spend a few hours in town and really make an afternoon of it. After all, I had freshly baked chicken pot pie and strawberry pie ready and waiting at home for dinner. Based on my friends synopsis, I decided that I wanted to read Farm City: The Education of an Urban Farmer. Deep down, I want to find myself in farm city. Up until now, I have always had a strict diet of city living, so I have had no exposure to the more traditional rural ways. I hope to change that. While I was browsing, I had it in mind to check out the kid's section. They had the book I was looking for: Anne of Green Gables. It's a Canadian classic and a treasured story from my childhood! It was the 100th Anniversary edition for $10 and I was having it!

I finished my shopping and decided to pick up a snack. Pop, that is sugary drinks, are without question my top dietary downfall. I was in a particularly self-satisfied mood, so I thought I would increase the unhealthy factor up a notch. I bought a snack-sized bag of BBQ chips. Please note, I NEVER eat chips, so there will be a blue moon rising tonight. I should also add that by the time I got home, I felt as crappy as the junk food I consumed. But back to the nicer scenario I am trying to paint.

Laden down with bags, I made a bee-line for the Nith River. I had a design for the highlight of my afternoon. I lugged one of the picnic tables under two trees where I could see both the dam and the little land mass in the middle of the river. I took out my snacks and flipped open one of my books. The bright summer sun made the water dazzle and sparkle. How could I not stretch out under a tall tree and read Anne of Green Gables by "shining waters"!

It was lovely. I felt such peace. I am in my element here in New Hamburg. In this area, regardless of what town we happen to be in, I love going out for drives and walks because the landscapes are natural beauties; rain or shine they refresh my soul. I'm under the umbrella of God's blessing. This is the season where God will give back the land destroyed by locusts. I have entered a season of joy and peace. I'm still unpacking, rearranging the house, and I need to obtain a job, but all in God's perfect timing. As He daily reveals more of His design for Kevin and I here, I am at complete rest being happy where I am.

Check out more blogs from other Christian women on the web

Ladies, Wash His Feet

2012-08-08T18:11:00.000-04:00

In the last few weeks, many different people, sights and readings have inspired me; my mind is bursting! God has given me several special moments here in New Hamburg. I see His thumbprint on each and every one. I find my new town so delightfully peaceful. Kevin and I love going down by the river to sit, eat, talk or stroll along the bank. We have had our “morning church services” there a few times now. I bring a devotional to read and Kevin brings his passion for God’s grace. I will sit composed reading out loud with emphasis and Kevin will throw his head back and say, “Thank you, Jesus!”

We have had great times by the Nith River; eventually, I will write them all down. There is one in particular that touches on the topic of marital harmony. Now don’t think I am about to spill juicy gossip! It’s uncomfortable owning up to times of contention with your spouse, but as Jesus said, “Cast the first stone.” In one sentence, He silenced the people who like to accuse and judge and encouraged those who struggle in silence. You are not alone. You are not the first person to find yourself here and unfortunately you will not be the last. I do not care how many books, videos, premarital counseling sessions you submit yourself to, you will not understand how real life differentiates from the fictional tales of wedded bliss. It is not that marriage is a drag or unpleasant, far from it! But the still pictures we have admired in our minds during singlehood are very superficial.

Our anniversary was special. Kevin wished me a happy anniversary several times throughout the day. Our smiles shone brighter and we held onto each other tighter. We did not celebrate in what has become the traditional way. We didn’t spend money on each other, no gifts and no accessories. We didn’t go out for dinner; in fact, we took leftovers to Kevin’s parent’s house. Lol. Why? Because when you are newlyweds who are trying to be cautious with money and who don’t believe in needlessly going into debt, you don’t have the option of being elaborate. I didn’t lament it much. I wouldn’t have minded eating out, but it was cozy cooking dinner for my husband. Basically, it was a special-ordinary day that ended with us at the river at night with me in tears.

I am happy (and perhaps a bit proud) that although I remember the events of some of our fights, I never remember what started them. I say that as someone with an impeccable memory, so I take it as a good sign that we are successfully fumbling our way through effective communication and conflict resolution. Tense situations are prime for revealing your confrontation style; ours are completely opposite. I grew up with yelling (sorry Mom and Dad). We yelled and brought it all out in the open in our family and my dad’s family. I can’t comment on Kevin’s family because I don’t know, but I can say that he has a more distant approach and would rather avoid it at all cost. Me…confrontation doesn’t bother me as much. As I said, that is how we communicated with each other especially in the years leading up to my parent’s separation. Kevin and I are two different people who have become one and we need to find our harmony in all areas of our marital life (not just the easy ones!). How do we do it? Through trial and error. With me crying by the river with Kevin’s hand on my shoulder as we brainstorm tips to help us understand each other’s coping strategies. Since we got married, we have been the beneficiaries of God’s continual blessing. We have also been under continual stress. In that type of pressure cooker, it is very easy to set each other off if we don’t understand how the other person handles their stress. Here are three things that work for us:

1. Don’t get caught in the Blame Game; it’s quick sand. Drag yourself out of there and talk.

2. Ask questions.

a. Do you understand what I mean when…?

b. Were you quiet because of this…or that…?

c. Help me understand why that made you angry?

d. How can I let you know next time that I just need my space?

e. What should I do to comfort you when you are emotional?

3. If you can catch your breath and haul-butt out of the boxing ring long enough, stop and let the Spirit lead you. Pray that Jesus will guide you beyond the fight.

I have an example for number three. Back in May, I was at the beginning of the last pregnancy and I had missed my anti-Ds for a few days. My hormones were off the charts. I am not going into the irrelevant details except to say that I ended up staying in the car when we got home from an outing and let Kevin go inside by himself. My ego was hot to trot. I was not going inside until he either came and got me or called me on my cell. Interestingly, we ended up texting for fifteen minutes. It sounds ridiculous but it was productive in that it made us think before we spoke. Yet in those fifteen minutes, he didn’t ask me when or if I was coming up. He was calling my bluff. If you want an image of how stubborn I am, picture me sitting in a car with the windows rolled up during a heat wave, arms crossed, refusing to budge!

As I was digging my heels in, I felt the Spirit nudging me. Go inside. Pffft. As far as I was concerned this was a stand off. Sarah, you need to go inside where your husband is. I knew this was the Lord, so I gave in and went inside. I was trying to rehearse something nice to say. We exchanged some tense words and I could feel the urge to pick up where we left off. I went into the bathroom, took a few deep breaths, patted cold water on my eyes and went back out there. Go sit beside him. It would have been one thing if Kevin had been sitting on the sofa, but he was in the recliner, which meant I would have to sit on the floor. I didn’t move. Go sit beside him. I relented and sat on the floor. Kevin asked me to join him in the chair instead. I don’t remember what we said as we sat there, probably nothing at all. Then it happened. Wash his feet. No way! Must be something from a sermon I heard recently. That’s not actually what God’s asking me to do. Sarah, go fill up the basin with soap and water, then wash your husband’s feet. As an aside, readers, you have no idea how bad his feet smell! My Mom bought Norwex shoe deodorizer for me to use, it’s that bad! I did it, though. And as I filled the basin with cold water, I felt a peace come over me. I was convicted that this was the right thing to do. I remained silent. I spread out the towel for underneath the basin. He protested and held his leg back when he realized what I was going to do. Without looking him in the face, I shook my head and pulled his foot harder and lowered it into the water. New tears fell from my eyes as I dried one foot off and reached for the other.

Feminists keep your bras on! I did this on my own; I didn’t have to. Nor did I feel debased in the process. We were at a stale mate and emotionally exhausted. It was time to take the boxing gloves off and show Kevin that he is not my sparring partner, but my husband. God showed me how with a gift of love. The Holy Spirit had humbled me from a woman fuming in a car waiting for a fight to a wife washing her husband’s feet.

Once both feet were dry, lip quivering, I lowered my face to kiss his feet. “No,” Kevin grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up. “The only feet you kiss are Jesus’. I’m not worthy of that! Now you sit and I will wash your feet.” It was my turn to protest, but he insisted. So my knight in shining, Krown-rust-proofed armor got down on his knees for a second time and washed my feet. I felt another nudging, this is how you should resolve your disputes. When he was done, we held each other. I was sobbing. I apologized and told him I loved him over and over. When I leaned back to look in Kevin’s face, I saw that he was also crying. The conversation that followed was very precious and I am keeping it between us.

As time goes by, I witness proof that we understand each other better. Marriage is less about the “date nights” and trinkets, and more about bonding closer together against the storms in life. Blessings and favour await us because God is generous! I wrote this out as a reminder to myself. I think it may be time for us to wash each other’s feet again.

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When God Speaks to you through a Place - Inspirational of the Day

2012-08-03T10:11:00.000-04:00

The Devotional or Inspirational of the day generally comes from something I have read or seen on the web. Over the course of the day, the Lord blessed me through several different sources: Unveiled Wife's prayer of the day; a Dietrich Bonhoeffer devotional sent to my e-mail from BibleGateway.com; a great message by Joseph Prince to start my day off; and a chapter from The Red Sea Rules by Robert Morgan that Kevin and I read together in the park.

It wasn't the easiest day none the less. The depression I sometimes struggle with had the upper hand...but not for long.

The inspiration of the day was not a blog, a devotional, a podcast or a book. It was a place. After supper, I urged Kevin to drive somewhere I had never been before. He took me to the river in New Dundee. I could write paragraphs on this little spot of heaven; I'll save it for later, though.

As we sat there on a bench, Psalm 23 came to my mind. "The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul."

My inspiration of the day came from a place.

"I Love Lucy"'s Viatmetavegamin commercial (as comedic as it was) asked the right questions. Are you tired? run down? listless? do you fatigue being around people? are you insecure? Well imagine yourself in a place that has warmth from the sun beating down on your seat; peace by the still waters; shelter under the lush green trees; and a quietness that invites into the presence of God.

Kevin and I have grown attached to a lesser-known song by Brian Doerksen called, "When You Shepherd Me." Listen to it, close your eyes, imagine a haven (the one I described or a place of your own) and let God speak to you.

²³

Summer Sport - 365

2012-08-02T23:59:00.001-04:00

Capture Your 365! Photo challenges may be nothing new, but they aren't passe either. I like Katrina Kennedy's site and the way she has organized her project. Even more, I am glad that she has shared it so that other photographers (wannabes or otherwise) can join her in a year of images.

Summer Sport

Softball Diamond at Norm S. Hill Park

It's a place to play sumer sports, just no one was playing...

Pray for Lydia - Devotion of the Day

2012-08-02T23:59:00.000-04:00

A few months ago, I posted a link to the Pray For Lydia blog on facebook. In May of this year, 13 year old Lydia was hit by a recycling truck while getting off a school bus. The blog is run by the Herrles, Lydia's parents. This sweet girl has been on my mind since I read of her accident in the New Hamburg Independent. You can subscribe to the blog and get daily updates on Lydia's miraculous recovery. Let me say it again: Miraculous. God's anointing is on this beautiful family. Michelle Herrle writes with a level of courage and faith that would humble Job!

Yesterday's post had an analogy about boarding a plane to Italy and landing in Holland. No offence meant to the Dutch. I have been there about half a dozen time and it is quite lovely. The point is that we sometimes end up in unexpected places; places we prayed to God we would never end up. As a Christian, when our plans are derailed, we need to trust God and exercise flexibility.

While my parents were still missionary candidates with Trans World Radio, my mother prayed to God that she would be willing to go anywhere in the world (Swaziland, Guam, dangerous, war-torn countries), but PLEASE let it NOT be Monte Carlo! If you know me personally, you will know that not only is that where God called my parents, we lived there for eight years.

I prayed that I would never experience specific types of rejection or loss. I ended up in those pits, but God carried me out of them.

Read this particular post from Pray For Lydia and read about how one family is not only surviving the unexpected, they are conquering it under God's grace.

Anniversary: Allow me to be sentimental

2012-08-02T13:17:00.003-04:00

Is it sad that the first thing that pops into my head, as I begin, is Barry Manilow's voice singing, "Looks like we made it...."?! Yeah, it is actually bad seeing how it is a song about ex-lovers! I have to say though, that one line captures the theme of today.

July 30th, 2011. I logged into Christian Cafe and found a message waiting for me from this guy. Subject heading: "Hey Cutie!" I still remember the butterflies. After ten free trial days of sifting through very odd characters, this one was cute and appeared normal. (haha. I'll behave!). You can't always put too much stock in "gut feelings," but I did have a really good feeling about this guy. As always, I like it when I'm right!

Neither of us were a paying member. My trial was set to expire that day (within a few hours, in fact) and Kevin had just received an e-mail for three free more days on the site. He was going to go to his parents that evening and ignore the e-mail, but through prompting of the Spirit, he logged on and found me. Let me say again, this window of opportunity was literally there for only a few hours and if he had waited 'till the next day, it would have been too late. God is good.

July 31st, 2011. The e-mailing began. "I have to say when I first seen your profile the first thing I noticed is how beautiful of a smile you had," he wrote. Flattery does have it's impact...! Even though we had messaged each other twice and had never met, he invited me to be his guest at his best friend's wedding a week before the event! I declined because I couldn't see this going over very well with the bride! After a few more e-mails, we had a date set by the end of the day.

And it is a year ago today that Kevin and I met up at the Beer Store in the Eastgate parking lot! lol. I was nervous; I can't deny it. When I saw that he was better looking than his picture, I thought I might be out of my league. Nerves and anxieties aside, as soon as I got in to his little Mazda that creaked like a canoe on the river, I felt an incredible peace. The worries were gone and I felt as comfortable as if I had known him for years. Kevin made a crack about some dude riding by on a bike wearing a Dora backpack (Oh Hamilton) and we were laughing and chatting.

We didn't make note of the day we called ourselves "official," so we go by August 2nd as the beginning of us. Neither of us have ever been in a relationship that even came close to a year, so this is pretty special. As much as a year can seem long, it isn't a long time at all. It's a grain of sand on the beach that we plan to walk on for the rest of our lives. It's our first milestone. Our first anniversary. I would like to tell my husband, Kevin, that I am so glad God made us a match and that we are going to have an incredible 2nd year together under God's grace and favour.

2 months

Married at 5 months

1 year together, 7 months married

Cornbread & Peaches

2012-08-02T11:58:00.002-04:00

Yesternight's meal was chicken pot pie. I made it a couple of weeks ago on my make-and-freeze-it day. On choosing a side, I figured the cornbread would be best! After all, I only have 4 lbs of cornmeal in the pantry! I found this recipe on Pinterest linked from Mel's Kitchen Cafe. So credit where credit is due: Cornbread Recipe.

It was really easy to make. It's very moist and a tad rich. It won't take too many bites before you start to feel full! While I was at it, I opened a can of peaches, left a little bit of the juice in the bowl and seasoned it with allspice and extra cinnamon. I put my dessert right along side my chicken pot pie on my plate. Salty creamy chicken, crispy pastry, butter melting on the fresh cornbread topped with the light pie filling peaches and washed down with homemade iced tea...MMM! Wish I had pics of that meal because it was darn good!

I wanted to have the leftover peaches and cornbread for my breakfast this morning, but Kev beat me to the bowl! I can't complain though as triple fruit jam (peaches, apricots and passion fruit) made an excellent substitute!

It's a great late morning snack while I do my blogging! Check out this recipe and more at "Mel's Kitchen Cafe."

Behind Glass

2012-08-01T23:59:00.000-04:00

Behind Glass

August 1st, 2012.

"Registered Massage Therapy" is located on Peel Street in New Hamburg.

I am intrigued by the garden growing in her store front.

An excuse for a massage? Maybe...

Inspirational of the Day - Aug 1

2012-08-01T23:36:00.001-04:00

Via @karen4aloeglow, I was linked to the following blog "His name was Kenton. He had a Community."

I don't hear the Hamilton news like I used to, so I didn't realize that a youth from Ancaster had recently, and tragically, died. The blogger is Hannah E. I wasn't sure what to expect if I read it. I was blown away. Two main points leaped off the screen and I had to reread

them several times.

“Why? Where’s the plan or the light in this? Where is there good here? Because this sucks and he is gone and You have him, You are holding him, but I need You to hold me, I need You to hug me like he used to."
"But I find what a pastor said to everyone today really helpful. In trying to help students make sense of what was happening, he said for everyone to grieve deeply, because there is nothing wrong with being sad. But he said to make sure we leave room to hear God saying, “I am so sorry that you have to go through this pain, because this is not the way I intended things.” I truly believe that when our hearts break for someone that is close to us, God’s heart breaks with us."

Everyone grieves for someone at some point in their lives. Kevin and I are moving on from the two miscarriages of this past spring/summer. It is still a sore spot, but it is not a gaping wound like it was. Hannah E.'s words are so appropriate wherever we are in our recovery. Point 1 summarizes my heart's cry to God. "You have my loved one safe and I am relieved in that knowledge, but don't forget about me! They may be at perfect peace with you in heaven, but I am a devastated wreck here on earth. I didn't want to be separated from my love! Why has this happened?"

Then Point 2 suggests God's answer to that cry. I won't paraphrase or personalize it because it's perfect the way it is. It wasn't God's will for us to lose a friend, family member or spouse. A God of such love wouldn't inflict the pain on us. However, He did scoop them up into His everlasting arms. These same arms reach down to us willing and able to comfort those who mourn.

I would like to thank the blogger for this post (and Karen for sharing it). God used it as a loving reminder of truth for me. It is a sweet irony that "Hannah" is what Kevin and I planned on naming a daughter because it means "grace and favour." What a double portion of hope.

Please take the time to read this blog. "His name was Kenton. He had a Community."

More Women Sharing.

2012-08-01T01:30:00.000-04:00

I am learning so much about blog connecting and as Kramer says, "I'm loving every minute of it!!" Checkout more women's stories for encouragement on Living Well Wednesdays. Feel free to post yours, too!

God's Favour (Devotion of the Day)

2012-07-31T23:59:00.000-04:00

July 31st, 2012

God's Favour
"Beloved, you do not have to depend on favoritism from men to keep opportunities open for yourself when you have God’s unmerited favor! Remember that it is the Lord who is the source of your blessings and success, and it is His favor upon your life that sets you up for promotion."Excerpt from Joseph Prince, Facebook Fan Page, July 31st, 2012.

Today, I was gearing myself up to drop off resumes. I find job hunting so stressful. I was worrying about what to wear and how best to make an impression. Then I read this on my FB news feed. Thank you God that I can walk into any workplace or interview fully reliant on your favour and not on making first impression.

Calling all Wives, Moms & (soon-to-bes)

2012-07-31T16:23:00.000-04:00

This will be my quickest blog ever. I found a blog called Time-Warp Wife which I am really enjoying so far. She has a weekly segment called "Titus 2sday". Bloggerettes from all over the web link up posts that focus on marriage and parenthood and offer encouragement in the roles of wife & mother.

If you fit the roll call, I encourage you to take a gander through the different posts. God may just give you the word you need today. :-)

One season fading into another (Pt. 3)

2012-07-17T11:00:00.001-04:00

I feel like this is the last instalment (part III) in the ordeal Kevin and I have been going through. A lot has happened since the last one, so I will try to summarize. The OB visit involved a consultation with two doctors; a resident and an OB. My mother-in-law was so kind to go with me. The prayers leading up to that day were for the Spirit to direct us, making the best choice perfectly clear. I expected the Drs to push for the D & C. To my surprise, the resident listed the possible side effects very soberly. She didn't treat them lightly, brushing them off as though it was unlikely, and when I asked, she was honest that it would not be her first choice if she were the patient. Truthfully, when you are told that you could end up with scarring that could result in infertility or your uterus could be perforated requiring more surgery, you don't care what the odds are. We went with the misoprostol, which was my first choice going in.

The misoprostol is a drug that is used for various reasons; in this case, to bring on a miscarriage. I had read many personal accounts on message boards, so I had an idea of what could happen from the most ideal to the worst case scenario. We were going to the Mandarin that night, so I was glad I could put off taking the medication until after the buffet. After all, I was made to fast just in case we did the D & C, so I was starving! The irony was as I was waiting for my prescription to be filled, I got an all too familiar sensation: I had already started miscarrying. That misoprostol is so good, I just had it in my hands and it started working! Pitty it couldn't have been before I was out $40!

At some point, I will put my account on the message boards for future moms facing the choice rather than go into graphic detail on this blog. I would do this option, God forbid, if I ever had to again, but it does require preparation (mental more than anything else). Even though I started the meds Thursday night, the full effect didn't happen until the following night. Taking a dose every four hours coupled with Tylenol 3s (Praise God!), the cramps increased in frequency and length like contractions. At the beginning, 10 deep breaths would get me through. By Friday evening, I would be counting to 25 or 30. Eventually, they were coming every few seconds upto being right on top of each other. Then, nothing. They stopped for about 20 minutes and then, without any warning, the bleeding hit. Again, it is not a story for anyone squeamish, so let's just say there was a lot! Kevin was an amazing trooper! It's bad enough for women, but men have no training for something like this. He nearly puked twice, but he kept it together and was at my side helping me. I could NOT have gone through this alone! Nor do I think that a woman ever should (that's my recommendation).

Every 15 to 20 minutes, I was running to the bathroom soaked. The cramps were back, the T3s gave no relief, and all the cleaning up each time was leaving me exhausted. We did this for over 3 hours with no sign of the symptoms lessening. I told Kevin that if I had to do much more of this, I was going to turn into Lady Macbeth! Due to the heaviness of the bleeding, the exhaustion and the nausea and light-headedness I was getting, we decided at 11:30 pm to go to the hospital. I cannot emphasize enough how glad I am that we went! They took such good care of me at the Stratford ER. They were sweet, supportive and put me at ease in what was an otherwise embarrassing and difficult situation. I had already showered twice in those few hours before going to the ER and I was still a mess.

They gave me an IV, increased my pain meds (Praise God!) and gave me gravol for the vomiting. Of course that was after the nurse had to fight to actually get the IV needle in. She said that she had never seen such tough skin in her whole career! It took her two tries pushing the needle and moving it around. If you're wondering if that hurt, it did! In the end, she got the IV to work, but the needle wasn't fully under my skin. So the next time someone wants to say that I am too thin-skinned, I have it on a medical authority that I am the complete opposite!

Then came the internal examination. Kevin was asked to leave for his own benefit. He was a little hurt, I think, but once I described the procedure later, he was grateful! lol. It really was God who lead us to go to the hospital. It was not a serious matter, but there was some blockage impeding the process; hence the heavy bleeding. The doctor extracted it right then and there. And if you're wondering if that hurt too, Hell to the Yes! I thank God that He gave me the same high pain tolerance He gave my mother or I don't know what I would have done. It was an easy fix and I was able to miscarry normally after that.

Kevin and I were there from midnight to 6:30 am. Poor thing was beyond uncomfortable pulling an all-nighter in a hospital chair. I felt so bad for him and wished that we could be at home in our bed , but not at the loss of my IV with pain killers and gravol! ha ha ha! 3 am was the turning point. The worst was over, my blood pressure started to go back up and I felt ten times better. God was very good! I cannot imagine what it would have been like if we had stayed home.

So it's now three days later. I finished my misoprostol a few days ago, so I am no longer dealing with the killer cramps. The "physical" aspect of this miscarriage isn't over yet, but I hope that it will by the end of the week. How am I doing emotionally? I have my ups and downs, but really God has been good. The worst I feel is exhausted. The night before I took the meds, I was very anxious. More than that, I felt devastated, but in His faithfulness, Jesus gave me a truth.

This is our second official miscarriage in three months. There was a suspected one in the beginning of April, but we have chosen not to count it because it was never medically confirmed. Because it was so early on in the pregnancy, I think I have feared that it's like this pregnancy never happened. I've worried that it's not that big of a deal. I don't know why I think that. I guess, I see it as nowhere near as tragic as women who have lost their little ones in their 2nd or 3rd trimester. It is my error to be making comparisons though. It was over so fast. I never saw a glimpse of it or felt a kick and the physical remains were flushed down the toilet. It seems so dishonouring to a wanted life. I really struggled with it. But like I said, Jesus met me at that place. I cannot describe how hard I cried on Kevin's shoulder as I had a vision of the tiniest form of a little pink baby in Jesus' hands. He answered a deep fear; a fear that I don't think I could have articulated otherwise.

"This life will not be forgotten. Your babies are not forgotten. It will not be like they never existed because they are with me."

God is so good. I needed this truth so badly, even though it still stings my heart to think about it.

I have been trying to wrap my head around what are our life is now. We are in a new town, I do not have a job yet, and our plans were tragically derailed as soon as we got here. So I am trying to figure out what my role is. We have been blessed with a fresh start, a perfect new season. Where do I start? As I climb out of the ditch, brush the dirt off my clothes and look around, I see a beautiful new place. I am not the same person I was last month in Hamilton. I am a woman with a bright new future in New Hamburg. I have an amazing husband; a gift from God. I am surrounded by a wonderful new family. My beautiful friends and family are only an hour away. I have two perfect babies up in heaven waiting for Kevin and I in our mansion. Soon, I will be working at the job God has specifically chosen for me. Lastly, like the apostle John, I am the one who Jesus loves, and THAT is what makes all the difference.

Missed the beginning of the story?
Click here for Part 1
Click here for Part 2

Still waiting... (Pt. 2)

2012-07-11T10:54:00.000-04:00

Inigo Montoya said it all for me in Princess Bride: "I hate waiting."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y0Y7ScfaVHs

On June 28th, the joyful flow of hopes and day dreams I had for our little "sweet pea" came to a jolting halt. After five days of waiting for the results of the ultrasound, I learned over the phone that there was a 7-week-old sac that was empty with no heart beat. I journaled out the contents of my heart the next day. I battled between wanting to hope and accepting the demise. Three days later, we were moving. I waited expectantly for the natural miscarriage to begin. On moving day, I had spotting. I was sad, but felt relieved at the same time. I poured all my nervous energy into throwing boxes and furniture around, scrubbing the kitchen tile on my hands and knees, chugging a 2L bottle of coke (give me a break! I hadn't had any in over a month! lol) and insisting I was fine. I would have been going up and down the stairs if my husband and in-laws hadn't stopped me. I had a streaming cold, too. I wanted to work myself to the point of exhaustion. I wanted to bring on what was coming, if it was going to come at all. By lunch time, despite my efforts, I was no longer spotting and did no further until Thursday.

Every day that week, I waited. Going to the washroom has taken on a whole new meaning for me, and I look forward to the day when I can pee without having to expect or inspect! I tossed back and forth. Kevin would reassure me that soon this would be over and we would have an answer. As much as I knew he spoke the truth, it did not satisfy me.

"There is no maybe in this situation!" I expressed my frustration to him honestly. "Perhaps in our minds, because we don't know what has happened yet, but in reality our baby is either gone or alive. This is a black and white situation. How am I supposed to rest my mind in a "grey" area that I know does not exist?!"

I thank God that He brought me an answer soon after that conversation. These are the words that came to me:

"Whether your baby is still alive or gone, it is in Jesus' hands."

Let me type that again for my own benefit.

Whether my baby is still in my womb or its spirit has gone to heaven, my baby is in Jesus' hands. There is no better or safer place for my wanted-love to be. This was my turning point. This was the only image that could get me through. Even picturing our child in heaven was like a knife going through my heart. The separation is too great. But somehow picturing our sweet pea in His nail-pierced hands made some subtle difference that I could finally rest.

Last Friday, I had my second ultrasound and more blood work. I was anxious the night before. Many of my pregnancy systems have remained present and in the absence of spotting, I was starting to hope everything may still be viable. I cried and prayed with my mother that night. The day of the ultrasound, I felt completely at peace; except during the ultrasound, of course. I swear she had that wand pressing up against my kidneys! But peace resumed even when the technician restated the lab's policy of giving patients no diagnosis. "I cannot make comment," she repeated several times. Once she left the room for me to clean up, I took a peak at the screen before returning to the changing cubicle. I read her measurements and could see at once that the sac had not grown in two weeks.

I could not see how this could be a positive thing, but I still hoped. There didn't seem to be anything else for me to do. I had been escorted back to the "waiting room". Sometimes, it feels like a waiting room with 20 year old chairs, outdated magazines and monotonous artwork on the walls. Then there have been days where it feels more like a waiting cell. It's cold, dark, restrictive with only enough room for me to pace and become claustrophobic with my own worries and doubts. Yet even in the waiting cell, there is a thin ray of light coming through the bars to bring me hope. Even when I am at a low point, I know that this is a season which, thank heaven, is temporary by definition.

God, as always, has been merciful. The test was done Friday and we had the results by Monday! Much sooner than I had prayed for. "[God] is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine." Ephesians 3:20 God knew that I needed finality not just that day, but that very morning. I had woken up from a distressing dream which turned out to be prophetic. In the dream, I had a baby and realized that I needed a babysitter for a week because something had come up. As I made preparations, I realized that I had not seen my baby for awhile. In fact, I had not seen it since the day it was born. I started running around asking people, "Where did my baby go?" I woke up to my fingers dialing on an invisible phone mumbling out loud, "Where did my baby go?!" I lay in bed for awhile staring at the wall, mulling the dream over in my mind. I concluded that if there was any truth in it, the truth was that my baby was gone. Maybe my body had finally realized that the sac was empty. Maybe the hcg levels would descend quicker allowing my womb to release what it has already known for weeks. After days of having an incessant chatter of anxiety mixed with hope in my head, there was a silence. "I have to accept this." I said to myself.

Within 20 minutes, the phone rang. It was the nurse from my doctor's office. The radiologist's report explained that there was no change and concluded that the pregnancy was indeed no longer viable. The next few hours involved phone calls to get me referred to an OB in Stratford. Again, God has opened doors and allowed things to move at a quick pace. I thank Him. Tomorrow, I am going to the ER to meet the OB to discuss the options for moving forward. I need prayer and God's wisdom as I need to decide between natural miscarriage, medically induced miscarriage or a D& C. I have mixed feelings about each one. A natural miscarriage could leave me waiting still as my body does not seem to want to give this up and, of course, there are risks to waiting too long. I think what makes me cringe at the D& C is that it feels like an abortion. What a loaded word that is. It can spark forest fires depending on what context or forum it is used, so let's just leave it at the thought of having one makes me sick. Perhaps I will compromise with the pill (misoprostol) to get this ordeal over with.

So I am still waiting to miscarry, not too hopeful for a miracle anymore; not this time anyway. We will see what tomorrow awaits me at the hospital. God is our strength and ever present help in trouble. I cannot wait for this to be over, so Kevin and I can move forward in our life together and we believe, very soon, with an expanded family.

"The LORD is my strength and my shield

my heart trusts in Him, and He helps me.

My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise Him."

Psalm 28:7

Click here for Part 3 (After the miscarriage)
Missed Part 1 (Waiting for Miscarriage or a Miracle)?

Waiting for a Miscarriage or a Miracle (Pt.1)

2012-06-29T19:00:00.000-04:00

There are a lot of uncertainties in life. I always thought that the older I grew, the more I would know and understand. I guess it is true and I do become wiser with years, but all I am learning is that there is so much I do not know.

"Let the wise listen and add to their learning,

and let the discerning get guidance."

Proverbs 1:5

I am increasingly convinced that there is no such thing as being in control. It's a concept; a state of mind. I do not believe that it is an actual capability, which will come has a hard blow to all the type A personalities out there. Perhaps that is why the Bible is continually encouraging us to submit, surrender, put our trust in God, hope in Him and not in man, and to seek all of our needs through His kingdom.

"There is no rock like our God." 1 Samuel 2:2

"All things are possible through Him who gives me strength." Phil. 3:14

"Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness and all these things will be added unto you." Matt 6:33

"Lean not on your own understanding, but in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will keep your paths straight." Prov. 3:5, 6

"It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in man." Psalm 118:8

What if this tug of war with God is just in our minds? It isn't God trying to control and dominate the earthlings. He is trying to teach us that He is the way, truth and life. We have no control; choice, yes; control, no. Near the end of His life, King Solomon concluded that there is no activity, no possession, no quantity of riches, no relationship, no belief system that is of any value apart from God. "meaningless, meaningless, everything is meaningless." We get so personally involved in what we do or believe. We invest our pride and reputation in our politics, our denomination, our lifestyle. There are so many ways that we esteem ourselves that in the greater scheme of things they must seem so petty to our God.

"Blessed be the name of God forever and ever, to whom belong wisdom and might. He changes times and seasons; he removes kings and sets up kings; he gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who have understanding."

Daniel 2:20, 21

The title of the blog makes it painfully evident of my current struggle. I am waiting for the verdict like a grieving parent in a courthouse. Pacing, trying not to fret, bingeing, waiting to be swept away in a tidal wave of emotion regardless of the outcome. I have no control over what is happening in my body. I do not know if I am carrying around an empty sac waiting for the pain of a miscarriage to hit me, or if there is a heartbeat yet to be detected that will save this baby's life and our hearts from breaking.

I do not know if a literal pergatory exists, but I feel that we can experience a season in pergatory on earth. Through health issues, financial crises, times of war, battles played out through the judicial system, and further scenarios, we find ourselves trapped on a highway between heaven and hell. It's either good news or bad news. No one recalls enrolling in the waiting game, but they are incapable of walking away from the game board until the final round is played. Yet it's an interesting paradox because though time seems to stand still, the world doesn't stop, but keeps orbiting. It isn't always possible to bring everything to a halt to catch your breath. You have to keep going about your day because life doesn't stop until it's over. It's hard to reconcile. It's hard to find the balance between not giving up hope, but protecting your heart from disappointment too.

I have painted a very bleak picture, I know. I can only imagine how I must be bringing an innocent reader down. I am not leaving off here in the "depths of despair" though, because at the beginning I listed all of the reasons why we can faith when we are in a pit. So I will defend the last two paragraphs by saying that this is how I feel, nor I am alone in this trial. I know Kevin must be feeling something quite similar. This is the truth. King David, who was said to be a man after God's own heart, never gave pretence to the thoughts and emotions that plagued him in dark hours.

"Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint;

heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony.

My soul is in deep anguish.

How long, Lord, how long?

Turn, Lord, and deliver me;

save me because of your unfailing love.

Among the dead no one proclaims your name.

Who praises you from the grave?

I am worn out from my groaning.

All night long I flood my bed with weeping
and drench my couch with tears.
My eyes grow weak with sorrow;
they fail because of all my foes."
Psalm 6:2-7

This will be the third loss to grieve in a row in three months. I may not be as symptomatically devastated as David, but my heart intimately knows what he is describing. By appearances, I am able to function normally and resume life as though nothing has happened. I can even convince myself for several hours at a time. I am grateful that I can. Then something will jog my memory and I realize that I still have not quite let go yet. I don't think I will be able to until our baby's fate is confirmed.

But in the meantime and beyond, "I will not die, but live to declare the works of the Lord." I know the pain in my heart, I see the tiredness in my husband's face, the concern in the eyes of family and friends, and I will call it as I see it. Not only that, I will look up from this pit and see the light above and have faith. I will face tomorrow and trust because I have no choice. There is nothing I could conjure up, no plot I could scheme that will fix anything. This situation is not hopeless, but I recognize that I have no control over what lead us here or what awaits around the bend. However, I do get to decide how I let this affect me. In honest truth, I want to fight and wrestle with God. But the Lord is not an unjust God. Jesus knows our heart and feels the same pain and sadness we feel. The story doesn't end with me clinging to Kevin and sobbing. That might be my reality for the next few days, but each day will get better and there is hope in tomorrow.

"Yes, my soul, find rest in God;

my hope comes from Him.

Truly He is my rock and my salvation;

He is my fortress, I will not be shaken.

My salvation and my honour depend on God;

He is my mighty rock, my refuge.

Trust in Him at all times, you people;

pour out your hearts to Him,

for God is our refuge."

Psalm 62:5-8

This is where I am rooting my trust; from here I will let it grow.

⁷

Click here for Part 2 (Miscarriage Confirmed)

My Latest Life Lesson

2012-06-07T01:08:00.000-04:00

Oh what a day. There is so much that I have to learn. My human nature thrives on believing that I have it figured it out and under control. The human nature thrives, but in turn the spirit suffers. There is so much I want to share with the faith that I cannot be the only woman who falls prey to lies. There are times that require discretion, though. I realize that our culture operates on everything being out in the open. Facebook is a virtual clothesline that displays dirty laundry for an unlimited number of passers-by. I see no virtue in this practice.

Suffice to say, God is revealing to me His beautiful vision for His grown-up daughters whom He loves so dearly. Lately, I have been grumbling to God about hormones. At this point, men may scratch their heads, or roll their eyes, or hold on to the edges of their laptop to stave off the on-coming sermon. Women are nodding their head, tearing in their eyes because they relate instantaneously and are raising their hands to encourage the preaching! But brothers, before you click to close the tab or type something else in the Google window, bear with my blog a little longer.

I have come to the conclusion that the chemistry of hormones is from God’s skillful and masterly hand because it is the fuel that helps the female body function in fantastic and mysterious ways. The crazy mood swings and excuses that come as a by-product of said hormones have to be straight from the sneering smug kisser of the devil himself because it creates nothing but chaos, conflict and sorrow.

I am no science major, so I couldn't begin to describe the amazing way a woman's body works and how necessary those hormones are to not just to maintain life in a balanced state, but also to create and maintain the development of a life itself. For those who are willing to study and learn, a woman's body (not her exterior) but her mechanics are a work of art and the function of hormones are key to the whole masterpiece. I am not going to deviate onto an anti-Darwinistic jaunt, but I will say that whenever I consider science, particularly human biology, it points to an amazing creator, a genius mind, a supreme force that omits not one single detail.

Generally, the word "hormones" is a dirty two-syllable word that is associated with the most unattractive side a woman could ever reveal. We immediately think of a women behaving irrationally or viciously, even. We think of scary witches, chomping on ineffective prozac and men cowering or pulling their hair out by the roots because they have no idea how to slay the dragon that has been unleashed from within otherwise happy loving creatures. I'm not going to lie: I have had episodes that leave me feeling like a completely different person. I do not recognize the shrill voice, the sobbing gasps or cruel words coming out of me. I think, "What is this? and how has it twisted me into this unrecognizable person?" I know that I am not alone in this, that is why I am honest enough to own up to the behaviour and, though it KILLS me to confess, occasionally using the "H" word to justify it.

Do you know the definition of "wicked"? No, I haven't changed the subject. The English word "wicked" originated from the old Anglo-Saxon word wiker (or "wicker" in the present-day spelling) which meant to twist i.e. a candle "wick" is called that because it is twisted Something happens to us. Poisonous thoughts laced with paranoia dissolve into our conscious minds convincing us to believe a warped perception of a situation and convicting us of being no good. Something gets twisted in our thinking and in our reactions and that "twist" is wicked. It must be one of satan's favourite ways to create division and conflict in our relationships.

I realize I am opening myself up for a lot "knowledgeable" people to argue with me that this, in fact, has nothing to do with the spiritual, but is scientific and it is just something we need to accept or prescribe against. I am not arguing the physical and the biological. I wouldn't dare because it is the handiwork of God, but I am going to be bold enough to say that, as a woman, when you see yourself spiraling out of control and you see that panic in the non-hormonal-person's face, I think that the evil one is messing with us and that we can fight it with the power of Jesus Christ.

The following is a passage that I used to have pinned up on my bedroom wall (and I think I may reinstating it soon).

"We are human, but we don’t wage war as humans do. We use God’s mighty weapons, not worldly weapons, to knock down the strongholds of human reasoning and to destroy false arguments. We destroy every proud obstacle that keeps people from knowing God. We capture their rebellious thoughts and teach them to obey Christ."

2 Corinthians 10:3-5

When I am having a melt down, I turn on myself like a vicious cat having a bad day. I convict myself of being "no good," "failing," and "not worth the bother." I do not merely hurt myself with such unfounded accusations, but I hurt those around me who love me. My head fills with lies and in a weakened state, I swallow the lies whole and fall apart. But what if I were to stop, call the thoughts lies from the devil and call on Christ to capture these "rebellious thoughts and teach them to obey" Him. As Paul says, these thoughts are unworldly weapons that satan uses as an "obstacle that keeps [us] from knowing God." We are daughters of God, brides of Christ, loved with an everlasting love and are eligible to enter into a covenant that will keep us inseparable from God from now and all through eternity. This is the truth; this is the answer to fear that overwhelms us at times of PMS, pregnancy, menopause, depression, chemical imbalance and the list goes on.

I'm not Tom Cruise. I am not about to call psychiatry a quack's profession and tel people with mental illness to abandon medication or say that mood swings are not part of our reality and we can control it with our mind. Yes, I am speaking contrary to scientology and new age beliefs and if you don't like it, sit on it. I am saying that when we are hit by hormones, by tidal waves of emotions that came out of nowhere like a tsunami after an earth quake, we can turn to God in these times as well. There is nothing that He cannot help us overcome.

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze."
Isaiah 43:2

Sisters, turn to God in your time of distress and call on Christ to disarm those weapons of deceit that are besieging you. And brothers, if you are in anyway God-fearing, fight for your woman with prayers against the devil and call upon the Lord to protect her mind and heart. Support her with love, and for Pete's sake, don't try to fix it, Tim Taylor! Call on the Lord to rescue and defend His daughters. It is not God's will for hormones to oppress a woman, marriage or family a minute longer. That is a truth that I am going to carry with me for each day left in my naturally born-female-existence. Can I get an "Amen"?!

The Last Bit of Oil & Flour

2012-04-08T22:50:00.000-04:00

I love it when I find grown-up applications from the Bible stories I recall from childhood. It is special to see how seeds that were sown by my parents and Sunday school teachers through story telling are sustaining me twenty years later.

Over the last year, I have been drawing from one of the miracles performed through Elijah. He was a prophet during the reign of King Ahab, probably the most evil king Israel ever saw. If that name doesn't ring a bell, Queen Jezebel, his wife, most certainly will. As a result of their wicked ways, Elijah told this royal power couple that there would be no more rain or dew unless he said so. Then, he immediately went into hiding as Queen Jezebel went on a bloodthirsty killing spree of prophets. God sustained him during that time providing him ravens to bring him food and a brook to give him water. Naturally, with no rain, the brook dried up, so the Lord sent him to a town called Zarephath. Elijah was told to be on the look out for a widow. Upon his arrival, he saw her gathering sticks not far from the town gate. He asked her to bring him a little jar of water and a piece of bread. Now the widow was quite willing to fetch him some water, but the piece of bread was a big request. She honestly told him, “As surely as the LORD your God lives, I don’t have any bread—only a handful of flour in a jar and a little olive oil in a jug. I am gathering a few sticks to take home and make a meal for myself and my son, that we may eat it—and die.”

It's a heartbreaking scene. It is just her and her loved one. She is poor, also suffering from the drought, and about to use up her last natural resources. In the mind of this widow, there is no hope. They will feed their hunger pains one last time and then die.

In our Western society, we don't experience the harsh reality of drought too often, certainly not to the point of dying of starvation. But some of us do know the hardship of poverty, the lack of resources and the hopelessness that can come from it. This past winter, Kevin and I entered into a season of "financial" drought. We were married on New Year's Eve in Niagara Falls. We truly had the wedding day of both our dreams: a modest ceremony and celebration--simple and intimate--that transpired without a glitch and did NOT put us into debt! We were blessed beyond measure! We began married life January 1st, 2012 without a penny of credit card debt to our name. Kevin was laid off for the winter season just before Christmas. The timing wasn't ideal, but we had a plan and we had faith. He applied for E.I. well in advance; the Service Canada agent said that it all seemed in order. All we had to do was wait for the first deposit. God had blessed me with a low rent apartment months before (that's low "cost" rent, not low "small means and no class" rent). We had minimal expenses, I was working, and with the generous wedding gifts, we could easily swing it for five weeks if it took that long. Aye, that was the rub. We waited more than five weeks.

I put the monetary gifts in a little red box in our apartment. I used diligence and tried to go in there as little as possible, but eventually bills were due and the bank account was getting low. I watched the balance drop, dipped more and more in the box, until there was a single Sir-Robert-Borden left. Don't worry Americans; even the Canadian readers are scratching their heads trying to figure out who that is. $100 was left in the box.

The parallel should be obvious at this point. Were we on the brink of starvation or bankruptcy? No. Could we have borrowed money if we needed to? Yes (as a last resort). We were feeling the pressure though. To use that last bill was going to require faith because it was still a week away from my next paycheck. Now before you start reaching for tissues, I caution you to wait because with God there is always hope.

So, the widow has just laid out her plight to Elijah, but he answers her back with words of hope and a challenge for her to have faith in their God. In response, he says, “Don’t be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first make a small loaf of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then make something for yourself and your son. For this is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: ‘The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the LORD sends rain on the land.’” The Bible says that she went away and did as Elijah told her. Being a woman, I can't help but wonder if she leaped up and prepared the food without thinking twice. At the very least, I can imagine her weighing out the pros and cons as she is walking back to the house. After all, this was going to mean less food for her and her son. Could she believe Elijah? It's not like she could quickly check him out on Facebook and verify that he listed "Prophet, Messenger of God" as his job on his profile. In all seriousness, it would require a lot of faith to carry those instructions out. Praise God that she did for He was faithful as always! There was food every day for Elijah and for the woman and her family. The jar of flour was not used up and the jug of oil did not run dry! Read 1 Kings 17 if you don't believe me.

On a Sunday morning in early February, Kevin and I headed down to the beach. We spent our time between discussion and prayer. In my experience, whenever I seek God when out in nature, it is always a divine appointment. But this wasn't one of those sunny, feel good, God is good because we haven't a care in the world kind of meeting. It was overcast, windy, and lightly raining. This was one of those get serious, cling to God's promises because you have nowhere else to turn moments. Married a month, we were looking ahead to the future. Where did we want to live? What did we want to do? What did we want our life to look like? These and many more big questions were at the forefront of our minds. We huddled together beside a rock to keep warm and to be close as we prayed. Jointly we felt enveloped by the Holy Spirit with comfort, hope and strength. We both saw a similar vision of the many ways God was going to bless us. By the time we returned to the car, we both felt strengthened in will, faith and endurance. Refreshed in spirit, I could withdraw that last bill out of the red box with confidence. We stocked up on groceries and praised God.

When I returned from work that night, Kevin had great news. He had received a phone call that $50 was coming for us as a wedding gift. The next morning, a card was in the letterbox from a relative. Inside was a cheque for $75. In less than 24 hours, God had replenished our box; we were up $25 from the day before. It was at this time, that I thought of the story of Elijah and the widow. I told Kevin that I knew our little red box would never stay empty!

If you know the Bible story well, you may recall that after the initial blessing, the widow's faith and even Elijah's faith were tested one more time. In summary, the widow's son became very sick to the point of death. Overcome with fear and grief, the widow accused Elijah of having come to bring judgment on her. Does that relate at all? Crisis hits and immediately assume that God is punishing us. We see trials as an affliction put on us by an arbitrary God. I am not about to presume to know the mind of God and say that He allows these things for a reason, nor will I say that God has nothing to do with it. All I will say, because this is what I have learned, if trials do come, fall at the feet of Jesus. Surrender the situation into His nail-pierced that bore sin and death for you. If you have Christ in your life know that He already took away the judgment. There is no more condemnation. So don't think that God is punishing you through the hard times, but know that there is nothing more than blessing to be given. The God that sacrificed and resurrected His son will carry you through. Elijah pleaded for God to give back the life to the widow's son and, you guessed right, God granted it.

About a week after our morning at the beach, we were still waiting for the E.I. It was by no means easy, but we were given sufficient faith each day and believed that God would be our provider. Six and a half days of waiting, then the unexpected happened. Kevin picked me up from work. As soon as I sat in the car and heard the tone in his voice, I braced myself. He had finally got through to someone with Service Canada. His claim was denied because he was 2 hours short. Each in our turn, we felt like the wind had been knocked out of us. How could this have happened? The agent in Stratford had been grossly incorrect in her calculation of Kevin's hours. Unfortunately, her error had no impact on the claim; their decision was final.

Now I am not about prattle on about how we handled this with grace and decorum, or that we didn't bat an eyelash in fear or doubt. I have been honest this far, why would I start lying to you now?! Over the next several weeks, there was tension and spats; we took turns beating ourselves us down with feelings of guilt; periodically doubt would try to grab a foothold and I would cling to Kevin and bawl. BUT before we went to bed each night, we would acknowledge that God was in control. He had brought us so far; He was not going to abandon us now. And over those several weeks, there were more unexpected cards with money; there were deals and coupons in flyers that saved us money; we were supported by friends and family, held up by the righteous right hand of God and we did not see the bottom of that little red box. As a visual to spur us on, I put two bottles on our TV: one had a little oil, the other a little flour. We claimed the promise given to the widow that our resources would not run dry until Kevin was called back to work.

Would it have been easier to have just received the E.I. or for Kevin to have been working straight through the winter? Absolutely. God would have been providing for our needs as much in that scenario as did for us in reality. The difference is that we would have thought WE were providing for ourselves. I doubt that many people look at their paycheck and say, "God gave me this money." No, we say, "I can't believe how little they paid me! I earned way more than that!" Or is that just me... For the first three months of our marriage, the truth was inescapable. GOD was providing every dollar. The other way would have been easier, but how blessed were we to see God's hand, to experience a visual of God's daily bread. Or as a family friend said, "God loves to reveal Himself!" Some of the ways we received money was miraculous. Kevin needed $40 for the car. The next day, one of my textbooks on kijiji sold for $40 exactly. When we had given up on receiving the E.I. or even trying to open a new claim or appeal, we were contacted from a man relatively high up with Service Canada. Long story short, he gave us the step-by-step to reapply and two weeks later, we got our first deposit!

I could go on, as indeed I already have. The Holy Spirit has been reminding me everyday to write this blog entry, so I didn't want to leave out a detail. When God blesses you in such an amazing way, you need to share it! After Jesus freed a man from a "legion" of demons, He instructed him, “Go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how He has had mercy on you.”

The Lord has had mercy on us and has blessed us ever so richly. I pray with confidence that He will do the same for you.

Treasures in Proverbs 30 and things I didn't know about hyraxes

2012-03-22T16:45:00.000-04:00

Proverbs is one of those books that doesn't get read enough, I think. I can't speak for everyone, but I always think, I should read from this section of the Bible. After all, it is full of advice on daily living. I constantly cling to the verse James 1:5 and pray, "Lord, I lack wisdom, and I know I should ask You, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to me." I wonder if God ever says, "I gave you a book in the Bible with words of wisdom...read it lately?"

Well, I have decided to read a chapter a day, and I am starting from the end and working backwards. Why? Not sure. I am one of those people who sets out to read something, then hits a plateau, never getting to the end. So, why not start at the end and read the things I have always missed? Anyways, enough of my rambling musings. Let's get to the part relevant to the title which is why you are probably reading this in the first place! :-)

This chapter is actually not written by King Solomon. It is my a little-known man named Agur. He was a humble man who declared that he was not all that wise. Verse 1-3, “I am weary, God, but I can prevail. Surely I am only a brute, not a man; I do not have human understanding. I have not learned wisdom, nor have I attained to the knowledge of the Holy One." Despite what Agur says, I believe he must have loved and sought after God with all his heart, soul & mind because his words in this chapter are greatly inspired. Read it for yourselves. These are just excerpts that filled my heart today.

By the way, a hyrax is "a small herbivorous mammal with a compact body and a very short tail, found in arid country in Africa and Arabia." (It will make sense by the end:-)

Visions of God in His Power

"Who has gone up to heaven and come down?

Whose hands have gathered up the wind?

Who has wrapped up the waters in a cloak?

Who has established all the ends of the earth?

What is his name, and what is the name of his son?

Surely you know!"

~ Verse 4 ~

Words to Live By

“Two things I ask of you, LORD; do not refuse me before I die:

Keep falsehood and lies far from me;

give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread.

Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, ‘Who is the LORD?’

Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God."

~ Verses 7-9 ~

Observing the World with Delighted Interest

“There are three things that are too amazing for me, four that I do not understand:

the way of an eagle in the sky,

the way of a snake on a rock,

the way of a ship on the high seas,

and the way of a man with a young woman."

~ Verses 18 & 19 ~

Learning from Nature

“Four things on earth are small, yet they are extremely wise:

Ants are creatures of little strength, yet they store up their food in the summer;

hyraxes are creatures of little power, yet they make their home in the crags;

locusts have no king, yet they advance together in ranks;

a lizard can be caught with the hand, yet it is found in kings’ palaces."

~ Verses 24-28 ~

Hyrax

Scrambling

2011-09-08T14:48:00.000-04:00

This is a journal post from July 2nd, 2011. I meant to post this sooner, but you know how it is!

My friend Janine loves challenging her physical limits. She climbs the escarpment stairs, goes for long hikes in the woods and, get this, she likes to scale waterfalls! I wish that I had her physical strength and endurance. Today, I decided to take a page out of her book and challenge myself in a like way. For me, this required inner strength to push myself out of my comfort zone. Deep down, I know that I have an adventurous spirit that could match hers, but it is my practice to make excuses and pose as a colossal chicken.

On our walk alongside the train tracks back to the car, I shared some anecdotes to explain where some of my reservations come from. I am, or at least was, every gym teacher or camp counsellor's nightmare. To be fair, they were up there on the "yikes-meter" for me as well. I was the non-athletic, slightly chubby kid with the SPF-to-infinity sunblock, the asthma, the allergies, the irrational fear of all creepy-crawling creatures and very accident-prone to top it all off. I have a deep appreciation for nature, but I'm either allergic to it or intimidated by it. The stories I could tell of my summers as a child (and even in my late teens) could go on for pages! For me, childhood memories of day excursions go hand in hand with stinging antiseptic and antibiotic ointments for the hundreds of bug bites on my legs! To this day, I have an aversion to creams and lotions. This is background information to illustrate a point. I learned early on that it was easier to avoid certain pass times rather than participate and suffer the humiliation of being the weaker member of the group. Excuses and avoidance always seem easier than challenging our shortcomings head-on. The tragedy is that it is never anywhere near as rewarding as being an overcomer!

In the last few years, I have been making a deliberate effort to push my limits far beyond my fears. That is why I took up the invitation to join Janine and her friend Elena on today's excursion. The goal: to reach Tew's Falls-- the tallest waterfall in Hamilton. How was this to be achieved? By going off the beaten track deep into the woods and scale along the side of the escarpment. How long would this take? I was told three hours both ways. Was I up for it? I wasn't too sure, but I was going anyways! With enthusiasm slightly diluted with worry, I ducked into the woods. In single file, we maneuvered up and down steep hills. Janine confidently lead the way and I brought in the rear. As this was my first time, I knew the back of the line was best because I wouldn't be able to move as quickly as the 'scrambling' veterans I was accompanying. There was a basic path to follow and yellow markers left by spray paint to guide the way. But the path itself was over grown with shrubs, uneven, mucky in some areas and snared with tree roots. Discernment was required at all times. Will that rock give me momentum or might it be loose? Should I descend this muddy hill walking upright or by scaling down backwards? Can I keep my balance or should I grab hold of the trees? At various points, I was lagging behind a considerable distance. My mantra was, "Know your strength and don't be a fool." It was better to go slower with caution than to pridefully attempt their quicker pace and end up falling. I'm afraid that I missed a lot of the natural beauty that surrounded me because my eyes were permanently fixated on Elena's feet. Her shoes were my guide. I remained intently focused on her tread and nothing else.

A few minutes into the hike, the negative talk began its taunt:
"Whatever made you think you could do this?"
"You are too out of shape."
"You aren't going to make it there and back."

Instinctively, my body started to respond physically with anxiety. My heart was racing, I could hear my breath getting heavier. Twenty minutes in, my left calf started to cramp. We stopped at lower Tews which gave me a moment to rest and regroup. It was a pretty sight as is all Hamilton woods. I took a few pictures. A father with his two girls and son bathed under the waterfall fully clothed. The children laughed and splashed each other. I longed to jump in with them to cool off. A speckled frog was hopping along the bank. I caught it on the first try. Took me back to summer afternoons in Omeemee at Handi*Camp. For a few minutes, I felt that it was worth the trip, but there was one concern looming still. I looked up stream and the main waterfall was still far from sight. My train of thought went something like this:

"This is a lovely spot. I think that I would be content to stop here and miss the big one. I have put in a lot of effort after all. Maybe I could make my way to the campsite and wait for them."

Even though, my mind outlined reasons to quit, my pride was having none of it! We had to go back up the way we had descended into Lower Tews to get back on the trail. I was literally crawling up a mucky slippery slope on my hands and knees. I was covered in mud, I was sweating like I never had before in my life and I was feeling very out of my league. I should add that it was an exceptionally hot and humid day. The final lap to the falls became more intense. Exhaustion was setting in. My legs were starting to feel weak and I was stumbling more and more on the rocks. The mental obstacle was that I had no idea how far away our destination might be. The further we went, the longer the walk back would be. I was feeling discouraged and the urge to cry was bubbling up to the surface. I am happy to say that I refrained from crying although I'm sure that it would have been a wonderful release.

Tews was now in sight. Climbing over a fallen tree gave me a few seconds to stop. At this point, I was pitifully out of breath. My gasps weren't caused by my asthma, but simply from fatigue. Tews looked beautiful in the distance, but never the less I considered packing it in once more.

"Technically, I made it. I accomplished my goal. How close do I really have to get? I could stop here and admire it just as well from a distance."

I have no idea what might have been written on my face at that moment, everything I was thinking or (the bottom line) that I was running out of steam. Regardless, Janine looked at me and said that we would be stopping for a break once we reached the falls. I had made up my mind in the car ride there that I would not whine or do anything to make her regret having asked me along. I had to say though that I had just enough strength to get to the falls and walk back to the car, but that was it!

From there, the two girls made a decent advance on me. The rocks were now covered with moss and quite slippery. I couldn't suppress my panting anymore. I was so close! I tried to speed up to get the last ten yards over with, but each time I would take my eyes off the path in front of me, I would slip and fall. The Apostle Paul told us to always keep our eyes on the prize. Looking ahead to the inviting waterfall helped motivate me, but it also made me wipeout twice. I don't think the girls saw it which actually helped as my pride was playing a leading role this afternoon.

Finally, I reached it! A stunning beauty, 135 feet high! It took a few minutes before my squinting eyes could take it all in.

The falls were dazzling in the bright sunlight. The roar of the rushing water was terrific. It emitted a powerful spray that covered me in a fine mist. It left me refreshed and completely soaked through! Staring up in awe of this natural wonderful, I felt closer to heaven. I told Janine that I felt like I was staring into the face of God.
"I think God is more handsome than that," she smiled.
"That's true," I agreed. "But it's a wonderful glimpse!"
"Yes!" she nodded. "It's a glimpse."
After taking some photos, we sat down on a log, rehydrated ourselves with bottled water and snacked on juicy apples. Janine and Elena chatted and I disappeared into my own thoughts. I remembered the different times I had wanted to stop in the previous hour. It was clearly evident that every stride and grunt of that hike had been worth it! It would have been total foolishness to have stopped any sooner than I did. I had to get to the destination in order to realize that though. There is no way that I could have known that any sooner.

It occurred to me that there was a parallel between that challenge and the Christian's devotion to God. When our walk gets rough, the prospect of bailing becomes very tempting. We don't take that step of faith because we're not sure if God's going to meet us around the bend. We hold onto anger or unconfessed sin instead of going deeper in our relationship with Jesus Christ. We rationalize our actions in various ways:
- "I have salvation and that's really all that matters."
- "I go to church on Sundays. How more involved during the week do I really have to be?"
- "I am content where I am in my faith. There's no need to rock the boat."
- "I may still struggle with some sins, but I go to church, I tithe, I serve... I am a good enough person to be in control."
- "I love God and worship Him in my own way. I don't need to be apart of a fellowship."
- "I want to increase my devotion time, but I'm too busy."
We have all hit the breaks at some point in our journey either because we don't know the glory awaiting us around the bend or because we've caught a glimpse from a safe distance and think that it's enough to satisfy us. Sadder still, there are some that don't even get all that far on the path before the evil one talks them out of continuing.

The Bible says that God is able to do immeasurably more than we can even imagine. I don't know how I would feel if I were to someday find out all of the tremendous blessings that I have robbed from myself through a refusal to go deeper with God and live off of my excuses instead. God has described the blessings intended for us in His word. It is His invitation to go seeking after them, but we will not know how wonderful they are until we experience them! We won't know the extent of God's love or healing until we embrace it with our body, soul and mind. Paul was right. We must not cease in our efforts or abandon the race until we reach the finish line. Even a righteous man like Paul must have been overcome with awe when he finally saw his holy God sitting on His throne.

There certainly was a great application for me that afternoon. Don't slow down now. We must press on and go deeper. It may not seem worthwhile right now, but that's only because we don't know what we're missing out on!

"When I look at the galaxies on a clear night--when I look

at the incredible brilliance of creation, and think that this is

what God is like, then instead of feeling intimidated

and diminished by it, I am enlarged--

I rejoice that I am part of it."

~ Madeleine L'Engle

Over coffee this morning with God...

2011-09-08T12:44:00.000-04:00

"How beautiful it is to be alive!

To wake each morn as if the Maker's grace

Did us afresh from nothingness derive."

~ Henry Septimus Sutton

I think of You, Abba, in creation. I see You in all Your beauty and splendour atop a cliff on the coast of Ireland. Only instead of the wind blowing in Your ancient mane, the mighty wind blows out of Your nostrils. The sun rising on the horizon is a reflection of Your own pure golden light that shines from Your eyes. I think of all the beautiful places in this world where You have left Your finger prints. In the delicacy of sweet blushing rose petals or in the raging torrents of the Niagara waterfalls, in the arid desert and the beds of sand, to the fierce cold peak of Everest. Your incredible beauty and craftsmanship are everywhere, be it in the eyes of a cooing newborn babe or in the eye of a tiger, the alignment of the planets in the Milky Way or in the science of human DNA. In the fragility and impermanence of existence, in the ferocity of gales and volcanic eruptions, in the faithfulness of the rotating seasons or in the mystery of the Northern lights, in the territorial dominance of a lion and in the loving cuddles of a newborn kitten, You, Lord, are everywhere!

David knew what he saw saying in Psalm 139, "Where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence?" There is not only no location where we can be out of Your sight, but there is no atom or molecule, no vibration of sound, nor a fragment of light that does not reflect You, God. If I were a grain of sand, which I am in the great scheme of things, EVEN THEN, I would not escape Your notice! For that I give You thanks and praise!

"When I walk by the wayside, He is along with me....

Amid all my forgetfulness of Him, He never forgets me."

~ Thomas Chalmers

With every new blessing comes temptation for idolatry, greed and coveteousness. Please forgive me for these sins and my lust that has accompanied them. Forgive me for my nature's desire to supercede You. This is Your world, Your plan and I am an instrument of Your creation. I ask for the forgiveness of my pride and I seek to be welcomed close to the bosom of my Abba and in the comfort of the Potter's hands.

"God came to us because God wanted to join us on the road,

to listen to our story, and to help us realize

that we are not walking in circles,

but moving toward the house of peace and joy."

~ J. M. Nouwen

I, like most people, have a unique perception of this world. I have a heart that cares for people and causes and my soul wants to have significance. This can leave me restless and impatient on God's timing. Will I ever count? Will I ever do anything of meaning? What is God going to do with my life? You, my Father, are right to remind me that I was chosen by the God of the universe before birth. You, the author of life, have already plotted the story of my existence. Your perfect son died the death that would have otherwise been mine. All I have to do is obey You and tell others this truth. Where was I during the formation of this earth? When God became flesh and was born of a virgin? When sin and death were conquered? When our Saviour rose from the dead? I was only thought of in Your mind, God. Why do I have the boldness to want to "be somebody'"? Is it not enough that one day I am going to see the greatest battle between good and evil that the universe will ever know?!

Despite what is seemingly boldness, You welcome me into Your throne room. You welcome my questions and beseeching of Your blessings. I have imagined a child of my own someday sitting on my lap telling me of their dreams and what they "want to be" when they grow up. In the same way, Abba, You let me draw near to You. I know that You would regale in my hopes and dreams, for You put the desires in my heart at the very beginning. Lord, may I come to You, not as on "who speaks words without knowledge," but as a woman, as Your child, who wishes to share the treasures of my heart with my father.

Rooms, Chambers, Digs, Pad, Flat

2011-06-24T08:23:00.000-04:00

It is three weeks ago today that I moved into my new place of residence...my OWN personal, private, with just me the one and only, apartment. I have a sudden urge to start reeling from the depths of my Soul like the great Rev. King, I HAD a dream that one day I would have a home of my veeeeerrrry own… I can stop there.

On Facebook, I have jubilated over this new rite of passage. I have also done a certain amount of complaining. I have shared with 260 people across the globe that I found FUR in my freezer followed by some pseudo swearwords. Yesterday, I forced myself to find the reasons to be thankful for the facilities that I do have, despite the lack of water pressure (and I am not just being fussy here. I have a witness. It's like a heavy drizzle). Today, I made reference to the disgusting washing machine in the pit of Hades, otherwise known as the basement. This slice of paradise is...well...not paradise, but is it not customary that a person's "first place" is riddled with flaws? That's what gives it character and an endless supply of great anecdotes for years to come. And in the meantime, it greatly enhances our parents’ prayer life!

What else can I say? I am slowly getting used to this new space. If anyone knows me fairly well, they know that I move A LOT. According to the latest tally, this is home #18; 6 moves in the last 6 years. I wish they would have a retreat for "former" TWR MKs because I would have so many questions for them. Mainly, I want to know if they have found a way to settle once back in their homeland. This is something that I have yet to master. I confess that I am still not completely unpacked. It's basically done, but there are a few boxes and a few garbage bags left. I haven't been able to bring myself to finish the job because it's not home yet. Let me explain what I mean by "home." I live by the saying of "home is where I lay my head." For me, this is a literal truth and it has been that way since my parents joined the missions back in approx. 1990. I have only had a transient experience of home. I am looking for roots and stability. I want to make marks that I can leave and enjoy for many years. I would like to feel what it's like to grow with a place again. I want a place where I can watch the seasons roll by year after year. I want to know the house, the rooms, each crook and cranny like the back of my hand. It would be great if I could make it two years, three years would be a record as I have not lived anywhere for three straight years since the last millennium!

Based on the last paragraph, I am committing to make The Old Hux my home. It has advantages, clear disadvantages and a quirky charm that ironically fits in with the story of my life! As Kim, Janine and I huffed up and down the stairs with the boxes (me doing the most huffing and puffing, of course) I couldn't bear the thought of having to repeat this move within another year. In fact, if the heavens had opened and a prophetic voice had told me that I would be moving after a mere year, I would have laid down in the dirt and openly wept right then and there. The day of the move, I learned two important things. 1) Never move into a multiplex structure unequipped with an elevator ever again. 2) Sushi is an awesome way to satisfy and a hard-earned hunger. After dinner, it was just myself in a room full of boxes. Being the sentimental nerd that I am, I decided to put on the pilot episode of Mary Tyler Moore. What could be more fitting than watching the courageous Mary Richards driving down the highway to Minneapolis with Paul Williams singing, "How will you make it on your own? This world is awfully big, girl this time you're all alone. But it's time you started living. It's time you let someone else do some giving." By the third episode, they had me convinced that I'm "gonna make it after all."