Plenty of Fish

The moment I decided to attend the Christian singles mixer party my friend was hosting, I hadn't pictured myself as the only female attendee for the first part of the evening. But there I was, the wall flower, sitting encircled by a half-dozen eligible men in a dimly lit bar inspired by Edgar Allan Poe's the Raven, awkwardly making conversation with help from an icebreaker game. Scarlett O'Hara surrounded by adoring beaus I was most definitely not. When the other two women showed up, they sat together at the bar and put their icebreaker games in their purses, meaning I won the door-prize for the women by default.

I tried not to think about how disappointing this event might turn out for every one, and focused on small talk and polite conversation about work, hobbies and interests. One man turned out to be not only a winter camping enthusiast but also a registered nurse who was an expert in foot care nursing, having run his own business for over ten years. I was able to glean some valuable information from him as I am also a foot care nurse.  Another man was a recent immigrant from Lebanon who was a scientist who worked in the food industry. Yet another was an outdoorsman who was a machinist. They all seemed like decent people. A couple men offered to buy me a drink, but I declined as I rarely have alcohol.

Gradually the small crowd dwindled to four people, counting the hostess of the event. We sat at the bar and discussed our work and cultural and family backgrounds. Since I had won a gift certificate for the bar, I attempted to buy a drink, but it is hard to order something that has no alcohol or sugar at a bar, and bars apparently don't charge for water garnished with a lemon. When I realised that this elementary fact should have been obvious to me, I was rather embarrassed to have offered payment. My next thought was to order a drink for some one else, as I didn't think it likely I would be returning to this venue, but the two people I asked had already imbibed their personal limit of one drink for the evening.

At ten the music was cranked up, but no one was dancing. Conversation became more difficult due to the noise level. My friend and I made plans to go back some time to use the gift certificate, and we exited the bar together along with the last man to leave the singles mixer party, who happened to be the registered nurse. He offered me contact information so I could ask him for professional advice regarding foot care. It wasn't the evening I had expected, especially since the last event my friend planned had had ten times as many people show up and more of a gender balance. Still it certainly was a stretching experience, and more of an adventurous Saturday night than I am used to having.

Perspective

There are two totally different ways to look at life. One is of a history of failures, setbacks, disappointments, and missed opportunities. The other is a story of lessons learned, challenges faced, holy encounters, and blessings in disguise.

 In the last little while I have had two disappointments. The one today I didn't handle very well, and in a moment I seemed to have lost all the progress I thought I had made. Negative things came from my mouth and they seemed very true and realistic, but in fact, they had the truth all twisted and distorted. 

This may be a challenge I have to overcome, but it is not the end of my journey. God does have a good plan for my life, but my life at times includes learning from failures, struggling through setbacks, dealing with disappointments of things I have wanted but are not God's will, and sometimes missing the mark. Through it all, God is working all things for my good and he is drawing me closer to himself. 

God knows the desires of my heart, and he created my heart. He is good, faithful, and true and as I delight myself in who he is and what he has done, he will fulfill the desires of my heart and also recreate my heart to be more in tune with him. Some of my desires may change in the process and as my life unfolds, I may understand better why God has said "no" or "not yet" or "wait" for petitions I have made to him. God wants me succeed at the things he has designed and purposed for me to do and he knows the end from the beginning. If I ask for his guidance, direction and wisdom, I can trust him to answer my prayer. He is able to do so much more than I would ever ask or imagine.

How to Find One's Life By First Losing It

Being self-absorbed comes naturally. If there is a mirror in the room, chances are I am checking out my reflection, even as I am conversing with other people. When I get a hair-cut, I want people to notice and compliment me. Since I lost some weight, I weigh myself with even more frequency. Often in conversations, I catch myself bringing the discussion back to myself, which is my favourite topic though maybe not as fascinating as I think. Though I receive many spontaneous compliments, sometimes I am guilty of fishing for one. At times, I spend so much time looking inward, I fail to notice people with needs all around me.

Self-denial on the other hand, goes against my natural tendencies. How I can give of myself sacrificially to others is not immediately obvious to me in any given situation; More on my mind is how will this affect me and my plans or how does this person feel about me.

Selfishness is my default setting. If I don't try to put myself in another person's shoes or attempt to think of others, I won't consider their needs above mine.

It is all too often all about me. That's why I find Jesus' words so challenging as paraphrased by Eugene Peterson: "Any one who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You're not in the driver's seat; I  am. Don't run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I'll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to finding yourself, your true self. What kind of deal is it to get everything you want but lose yourself? What could you ever trade your soul for?"

I guess if I am truly following Jesus, instead of just talking about following Jesus, he will lead me in this way of self-sacrifice and show me how it is done. He has already demonstrated a love that was willing to suffer, to empty himself, to give his life as a sacrifice. In his life, he was a servant, obedient to the Father. Even though he was God, he made himself nothing. My life has to become about him and about the people he has placed in my life. I need to radically change my focus and only then will I find my life as it was meant to be lived.

Of Darkness and Dawn

When the thought crossed my mind again, I realised it had been awhile, really quite some time, since it had transversed the well-worn path etched into my brain. I did not welcome its return. It was a thing of winter, of gloom, of dark, bare, empty places and of despair. It stank of hopelessness, fear, and death.

Four simple words: I want to die. This recurring thought most often emerged when I faced something difficult, when I was stressed, or when I contemplated the future, not in a dreamy, optimistic light but in a nihilistic, nightmarish view. I want to die. Sometimes I dwelt on the thought, other times I pushed it aside. Most of the time, it had no semblance of truth, nothing more than a shadowy presence. It dissolved into nothing when forced into the light. But always it came back.

I want to die. If it had ever been true, it wasn't now. I want to live. I want to grow, to stretch, to burst into glorious bloom. I want to develop in many directions, to be a channel of vitality, to foster life.

I want to live. I want to experience delight and joy, beauty and passion. I want to be grateful for each breath, to breathe in goodness and exhale grace. I want to live... truly. I want my path forward to be "like the light of the dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day" as the ancient writer described the way of the righteous. This proverb was given to me as a word of promise last year. Though darkness is real, by God's grace I will see that dawning brightness.

I want to live. I want to born anew as Jesus once told Nicodemus. It is a thing of spring, new beginnings, of light, and hope. It is truer than the darkness ever could be.

Top Ten Blessings of 2014

It is time to reflect on the blessings of the past year. I am feeling a little blue as family Christmas time draws to a close and I heard some sad news today. Also I know 2015 will begin with me facing up to some challenges that I postponed dealing with. I think making this list will help me focus on the positive side. This idea was inspired by my sister who wrote her own top ten list on her Christmas card.

1. Working with a client who was a joy in a kindergarten of all places the first half of 2014

2. Spending time with treasured friends whether while attempting to master Zumba or playing a friendly game of Euchre or Scrabble

3. Getting my feet wet with a part-time foot care nursing job and meeting some wonderful clients

4. Drawing closer to God through Immanuel sessions and Sarah Young's devotional writings

5. Visiting Karen, Clint and their wonderful family this past summer in Saskatchewan

6. Gaining health and losing weight and inches since starting Trim Healthy Mama in July (twenty-five pounds lost and now at my goal weight)

7. My wardrobe makeover courtesy of my stylish sister and her friend 

8. Receiving more compliments than I can realistically keep track of

9. Rachel and Joel's beautiful summer wedding and happiness in marriage

10. God giving me the gift of hope 

A Hard Lesson

There are certain lessons that seem to take me decades to learn. One I haven't mastered yet is "Do not worry" although I have been writing about it since my very first blog post. Another is how to follow the biblical recipe for true contentment, as Paul explains in the following verses, as paraphrased by Eugene Peterson:

• I've learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I'm just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I've found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in  the One who makes me who I am.     Philippians 4:11b-13 The Message

I can't say I've reached the same point as the apostle Paul, when he wrote these words. It is very easy to be discontented about the things that are not happening in my life or things that are not going in the way I would like. It is very easy to annoyed by little things that a deeply contented person would just brush off or not even notice. On days when patience is in short supply, my mood is darkly disappointed, and the last thing on my mind is the recipe for being content in every circumstance, I tend to view my life as a portrait in things I lack, things I absolutely must have to be happy. 

But I don't need a successful career, my ideal match, or to be married with children in order to be happy. I don't need my every wish fulfilled and fantasy realized. I need a change in perspective, to view my life in light of the blessings I have received and gifts I have been given. I need to realize that no matter what my situation, whatever material blessings I have or don't have, I can still make it through my life with true contentment and joy, not based on my circumstances but based on the One who gives me my identity, hope and purpose. I am a child of God, a member of Christ's body, a citizen of heaven, God's workmanship called to share God's love and to do the work God prepared for me to do. I have been given much; my hands are full. I have everything I need for life and to fulfill my calling, I have been supplied with all I require to trust and to obey God. Through his strength I can master this recipe!

I wish I would learn this difficult lesson thoroughly and apply its principles faithfully in my life! I hope it won't take many more years to learn it well.

Last Friday Night

Last Friday night found me composing yet another online dating profile. It was either that or write a blog post and I was drawing a blank on a good topic to write about. There is an art to writing a good profile, revealing enough but not too much, sounding intelligent but not cocky, being honest but not sounding like a total dweeb who spends their Friday nights writing online dating profiles. A brevity and conciseness in your responses is key, as is highlighting your good points and showing no signs of your neuroses and hang-ups. It is best to leave blank those questions that, if answered, would reveal your utter lack of experience in the area of dating relationships. For a Christian dating site, you should avoid cliches as much as possible, but also strike a balance between emphasizing the required godliness of your husband and admitting that you do not demand perfection. An over-ask is almost as fatal as an over-sell. A hint of a sense of humour and a slight display of quirkiness and a degree of creativity in your answers helps.

With such a profile you will be certain to attract any number of men, some of whom will astonish you with their effusiveness and others who will delight you with their unintentional humour. Someone will write you from jail, another from a foreign country. There will be divorced men and widowers with children, single men who ask why you have never married yet, and men older than your father. There will be those who send you a form letter, slightly personalized, full of links and contact information, and those who ask you a simple sardonic question. There will be those whose profiles are an instructive sermon on environmentalism or their own brand of Christianity they are fully convinced of. Some will give you their Skype address, others their email despite rules to the contrary. Some will have obvious baggage from past relationships, others will emphasize their need for a submissive wife.

But you will continue to wait out your ten day trial period, because there is always the chance that there will be someone extraordinary in their normalcy and at the same time ideally suited for your quirks, someone truly fitting all your stated criteria and some of your unstated ones. On such slight chances you pin your hopes.

Two Paths Diverged in a Yellow Wood

(With Apologies to Robert Frost)

"Stand by the ways and see and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is, and walk in it; And you will find rest for your souls." Jeremiah 6:15 (NASB version)

Sometimes you think you are headed in one direction, only to discover you still don't know where life might take you. Life has been a mixture of overabundant compliments on my new stylish clothes and trimmer figure and disappointments to do with my professional career. I have spent time gazing lovingly and narcissistically at myself in the mirror and time stewing about the future and my prospects. I had written a blog post a couple of weeks ago all about my current life... the triumph of my weight loss, the joys of a new wardrobe and the successful shopping trips preceded by the weeding out of five garbage bags of unstylish, unflattering, worn-out, or ill-fitting clothes, and finally my newest job working at a school doing a feeding program to which I could wear all these wonderful new-to-me clothes. This was before Thanksgiving and I was pretty thankful to have much closer to full-time hours, although I felt bad for the nurse who I had replaced from another agency and how unjust the situation was for her. When the job returned to her, I felt it really was the right thing to happen and I just regretted I was left with some gaping holes in my schedule.

Last weekend I went to Ancient Paths, a seminar I struggled to describe to a friend. There was teaching about communication, critical times of blessing in the life of an individual and family, and how to bless your children or parents. There was also time for ministry in a small group. I received some healing and encouragement and had some generational things dealt with. While I didn't agree with some of the viewpoints expressed by the teacher in the videos, I did learn a lot from him and overall I was blessed by my participation in this seminar.

This week I spent some of my extensive leisure hours just enjoying the lovely fall colours and walking through the woods and across the city-scape, appreciating the beauty as the leaves blanketed the path or swirled down gently from the trees. This evening I both coached an Immanuel session and was the recipient to an Immanuel session and it was good to connect to Jesus and hear what he had to say about all the things I have been thinking about. It is comforting to know I can trust him and he has a good plan for my life and that I am moving forward, even if I don't yet know the way or where the path will lead. 

Poor Prose, Powerful Prejudice

When I was finishing my last half year at Redeemer University College, I took a creative writing course. I had dreams of being a writer, but had written mainly essays and papers while in university. I hadn't tried creative writing since high school when I penned a twisted fairy tale for my English ISU, and was told that it didn't qualify as a short story exactly, but that it was well-done. In my class on British novel in university, I did write an additional scene to Jane Eyre, and in Contemporary Fiction I wrote an additional scene to The Color Purple, and I also took a class in Expository writing, but that was pretty much the limit of my creative output.

When I began the Creative Writing class, I hoped it would encourage me to be more imaginative again like when I would get up early to type stories on the computer such as my story about the missionary kids who were kidnapped, or my tale of a princess who was being forced to marry an evil villain, but was helped by a prince in disguise. Of course I would be writing something that actually would qualify as a short story, real literature such as I had spent my university career analyzing.

Anyways my imaginative flow was rather constrained for this class, perhaps because I was focused on trying to please the professor, whose own writing I had read. I did better with the poetry, because I had never read any of the professor's own poetry. My first short story was about a club singer who serenades a man from the audience and I forget what else happens, and its most memorable feature was its title "For Whom the Belle.... Sings." My main short story was set in a thrift store and entitled "Thrift Store Steal" and was about a university student who worked part-time at the thrift store and planned to buy a wedding dress that was for sale, but a volunteer, who frequently took the best items from the store, took it for her daughter, resulting in a confrontation with the university student cashier. The thrift store and wedding dress were both well described, but the ending to the story when the university student quits her job dramatically and grabs a lawn ornament on her way out which she may or may not pay for, did not impress my professor who felt it weak and unsatisfying.

I have been thinking of this story lately, because it occurred to me that some of the judgments that my protaganist made about the volunteer's daughter being too overweight to fit the dress, underemployed, and still living at home are all things that have been reflected in my own life. A fourth judgment, the fact that the daughter could no longer conceivably wear white, according to my rather judgmental character at least, does not fit with my life situation.

It makes me wonder about the power of judgments we make. At the time I wrote this story, I thought an university education in liberal arts would stand me in good stead and I would likely never be underemployed despite the fact I was majoring in English literature and Religion. Also I had long been prejudiced against older people still living at home. My first would-be boyfriend,who I met the year I worked at a factory before I started university, was still living with his parents at age thirty-something and that was one of three reasons I wouldn't date him, the others being he didn't attend church regularly, and our age differences were too great. I was nineteen at the time, and rather immature. This guy ended up getting his own apartment and started attending church more regularly, but we never ended up dating since I still thought the age difference was too great. We emailed back and forth for awhile, but his tales of girls hitting on him at his security job became tiresome and I very cruelly blocked his email address. He then sent me an email from another account, in which he explained that his new girlfriend was buying them a house and it was by the lake and that he wouldn't tell me how much it cost. I congratulated him in an email and then blocked that account too.

I am now older than he was when he was living at home. I am still living with my parents and I have two part-time jobs which currently are not giving me a lot of hours, and I wouldn't fit into the size five wedding dress either, though I have been trimming down of late. I now think you should be careful how you judge another person even in fiction. Just because someone is not married at thirty-something doesn't mean there is something wrong with them. And people may live with their parents at an advanced age for a lot of different reasons and they shouldn't be looked at as a lesser species of being for that reason. Also judging someone for their size is very shallow and cruel.

I really would like to develop my creative side again and write something imaginative, well-crafted, and powerful, something not stunted by trying to please a teacher, and maybe featuring a protaganist not reflecting my own prejudices in amplified form.

Facing the Giants

When anxiety causes you to say no to an opportunity for work, to not try something new, to stay within the safe confines of your narrow life, you know it is limiting your potential to grow and the fullness of your life. When your stomach gets in knots just thinking about your next shift, when you lay awake considering various disasterous scenarios, when your mind races to think of an excuse for yourself not to pick up that challenging assignment, you know anxiety is robbing you of being the best nurse you can be. When you don't step forward to do what you sense God is asking you to do, when you focus on your limitations, when you picture yourself failing spectacularly, you know you are allowing your giants to keep you from the promised land.

I am trying to learn to follow Jesus' command not to worry about tomorrow. I am attempting to trust God to provide for my day to day needs and to focus on seeking his kingdom first. While I may be making some progress in these attempts, I still need to be reminded to "consider the lilies."

Yes life is more than food and the body more than clothes. Yes worrying accomplishes nothing of value and is borrowing trouble from the future and bringing it into the present. But how to face life with faith instead of fear? 

To move forward, I need to face these giants and know that with God's help I can conquer them. I can't be afraid of failing. I need to take that first step in trying something new. Before reaching for an excuse, I need to explore further and then decide if it is an opportunity I can seize, something that will help me to grow, a chance to put into practice what I have learned. I need to be wise and make the most of the opportunities that I have. I can rely on God's promise that if I trust in him with all of my heart, not relying solely on my own limited understanding, but acknowledging him in everything, then he will guide me in the right path.

Reunited

One of the special things about the wedding was having all of my siblings together again.
Here we are in order of age.

Storybook Love

Come my love I'll tell you a tale,

Of a boy and girl 

And their love story.

And how he loved her oh so much,

and all the charms she did possess

Now this did happen once upon a time,

When things were not so complex.

And how he worshiped the ground she walked,

And when he looked he became obsessed.

My love is like a storybook story,

But it's as real as the feelings I feel.

My love is like a storybook story,

But it's as real as the feelings I feel.

~ Willy DeVille

Photo by Karen Langelaar

On Sunday, August 31st my sister Rachel and her true love Joel married in a glorious garden setting just outside an old Baptist church. The weather held, despite a predicted probability of rain; it was slightly overcast at times, but when the sun shone down on the seated guests it was a little hot. The ceremony was lovely with talented musicians playing, meaningful vows, and even an offbeat poem chosen by the groom's sister-in-law celebrating abiding love and featuring zombie apocalypses. The bride was stunning and entered on the arm of her father through a long aisle guarded by tall, luxuriant shrubbery. The lovely bridesmaids and adorable flower girl preceded her. Storybook Love from the Princess Bride played on the clarinet and piano evoked a fairytale mood. The officiant delivered a short message before the exchange of vows and two brief passages of scripture were read by the bride's brother-in-law.

The short ceremony was followed by a receiving line and some light refreshments of lemonade and macarons. Pictures were taken in the beautiful gardens and the reception was located at a nearby golf course in a delightfully decorated pavilion with gorgeous flowers arranged in scientifically themed glassware celebrating the couple's backgrounds in the fields of science and engineering. A three course, delectable dinner was followed by speeches, the most hilarious by the groom's twin and best man. The emcees were the bride's brother and her cousin (and bridesmaid) and they kept the evening moving, providing some witty banter, and demanding of the guest's particular tasks they must perform before the bride and groom could kiss. The shoe game, long a staple of family weddings, revealed how much on the same page the bride and groom really were.

Dancing was exuberant at times, opened by the bride and groom's more sedate dance to Ben Harper's Forever, and drawing mainly young people to the floor. The play list was selected by the bride and groom. Meanwhile the guests mingled and watched a slide show with pictures of the bride and groom who had met as prepubescents, and had been a couple since 2011. When the bride and groom left for their honeymoon, the dancing continued for several songs, but the party wrapped up just after midnight, as many of the guests had a long drive ahead of them.

It was a beautiful wedding to celebrate a beautiful couple's true love.

His love was stronger than the power so dark,

A prince could have within his keeping.

His spells to weave and steal her heart,

Within her heart but only sleeping.

My love is like a storybook story,

But it's as real as the feelings I feel.

My love is like a storybook story,

But it's as real as the feelings I feel.

And he said:

"Don't you know I love you oh, so much,

and lay my heart at the foot of your dress."

And she said:

"Don't you know that storybook loves, 

Always have a happy ending."

Then he swooped her up just like in the books

And on his stallion they rode away.

~ Willy DeVille

Photo by Karen Langelaar

Thirty-Four

Today it has been thirty-four years since that August day when I came into the world three weeks ahead of schedule following a frolic down the sandhills by my vacationing mother. Yes, I am officially in my mid-thirties. Since last birthday a lot of change has occurred, most of it positive. Last school year I got the opportunity to work with a diabetic child, who was a joy to provide nursing care for, and I also started a part-time job in foot care around the time of the New Year. I attempted Zumba during the fall and winter to limited success. My fall projects were to learn how to hear God's voice more clearly and to get a foot care job and both goals were accomplished to some degree. After about six months my mentor suggested we stop our weekly phone calls and just talk as needed. During the following six months positive changes seemed to accelerate as I participated frequently in Immanuel sessions, continued my daily Bible reading plan which I will have completed in another five weeks, and also began to increase my prayer walks this summer.

This summer has been enjoyable with a July visit to Saskatchewan to visit my sister, brother-in-law, two nephews, and two nieces. During my visit I decided to start a healthy eating plan my sister and brother-in-law encouraged me to try. Following my visit I had shingles which meant more time off work and missing my sister's bridal shower. In May my sister got engaged and this weekend my sister is getting married! Very excited to celebrate that wedding and to welcome another brother-in-law into the family.

Recently I had an amazing Immanuel session that I felt had shifted something, although the last couple of days my abrasive attitude has reemerged. The session was definitely a highlight of my week and the next Sunday I got many compliments at church that I was looking good. I think my countenance had changed significantly and people noticed. Many people at church had commented that I had changed a lot in the last several months to one year, and, while the change is positive, it does make me wonder about the self-absorbed, miserable person I have been.

This fall I am hoping for more opportunities to work in home care and foot care. This past year I have had two part-time jobs that didn't quite make full-time hours. I am planning to participate in a couple of conferences this fall and I want to take some foot-care or nursing courses.

Eventually I want to find a new place to live with a room-mate and/or room-mates. I think that will be a good step to take at the right time. Living at home has been nice and affordable, but my parents aren't that far from retirement and I will need to spread my wings.

This coming year I want to continue to grow and change and develop better and new relationships with others. I want to find opportunities to help and support others and I want to be connected in a closer way with Jesus. I think this year my theme with be John chapter 15, the chapter about the vine and the branches and bearing lasting fruit. I am grateful for my wonderful family, the friendships that I have, and my supportive church family. I really appreciate my pastor and the mentors I have at church.

I am thrilled about the change that is happening in my life, and I am beginning to get excited about the future! I know there will be hard things, but I can see that even through difficult circumstances, life can be full of joy, peace, and beauty. Often it is the attitude you take to life that makes the difference, especially when God is with you and active in your life.

My beautiful cake

Birthdays are always a big deal in my family, but I have celebrated mine early this year so today will be much lower key. I am posting a picture of me last Thursday celebrating thirty-four years of life and about to blow the candle on my strawberry cheesecake, as well as a couple other photos from my birthday evening.

My sister Linda and I

Playing Balderdash

Au revior, mes soeurs

As much I am looking forward to a family wedding, I am not looking forward to saying good bye to my two sisters, as one heads off to be newlywed graduate student in Montreal and the other leaves for her first year at Laurier. After the wedding is over the family will scatter, and I will be the only one still living at home with my gracefully aging parents. This will throw in sharp relief the inescapable fact that I am well past thirty and living with my parents.

Our household will go from five to three, even as the chores get redistributed and the number of family vehicles decreases by one. Dinner conversations will be less lively, laughter will occur less frequently, and the quality of humor will begin to degrade. No longer will there be enough people for a spontaneous game of Euchre to break out. In short, life will be staler, flatter, and less meaningful.

Without my sisters, I will be out-numbered in any generational dispute. Not only will I lose valuable allies, but I will be the only one standing in the way of my parent's empty-nest hopes and dreams. This vulnerable position will end the comfortable place I have held in the family and home, and inevitably lead to my moving out into the world once again.

I will miss my sisters. Good natured and kind Christina who declines to be thanked for simply doing her job. Clear-sighted Rachel who cuts through the bs to get to the heart of any matter and who can always make me smile. Life without them will be different and far less rich.

My beautiful sisters last winter

Regrets

If today was my last day here on earth, I would have a few regrets. Some of them are missed opportunities, like the time my English prof wanted me to present my paper at a conference and I never followed up, or all the time I wasted studying in university to achieve that final five percent when I could have been pursuing a social life or actually be focused on learning instead of marks. Some of them are experiences and relationships I have never had. I still have a longing to be swept off my feet and to be loved for who I am by someone who has yet to appear in my life. I would love to carry life inside me and to hold a child in my arms that is the consummation of a love I have for this other half.

But if I were to die today, what would be my biggest regret? Not that I didn't present a paper, or that I never was a wife and mother, but that I was so wrapped up in myself that I didn't love enough. I didn't reach out to the man in the wheelchair who asked me to help him get home in the rain, because I had a bus to catch. I didn't befriend the friendless or offer shelter to the homeless or give sacrificially of myself. I didn't care enough about those who were victims of disaster or who were hungry and without work. I didn't see the face of Jesus in those who were suffering. 

Also I wasn't grateful enough for what I had. I didn't appreciate each day and each opportunity. I didn't find joy in the little moments. I lived more in the past and future than in the present.

What I have built of lasting value? Whose life have I invested in? What gift have I given the world?

Today most likely isn't my last day on earth. I can't change the past and seize missed opportunities. I may someday have a husband and a family or I may not. But moving forward I can reach outside of myself and look for ways I can love others.

Sunday Sermon

Sometimes finding satisfaction in your life, and that elusive sense of peace and joy, comes not through the perfect set of circumstances but through a grateful attitude that recognizes your blessings and also through awareness of Jesus' presence with you in all things. For too long, I focused on things I did not have that I thought I needed to be happy. I compared myself to others and envied them with their beautiful little families, their successful careers, or their confident mastery of life. I wanted to be medication free and whole, I wanted to be thirty pounds lighter, I wanted to be married and start a family, I wanted to be sought after and admired.

But joy is found not in the desired destination, when you will have arrived at a place of fulfillment and happiness, but in the midst of the journey. There are always going to be unfulfilled dreams, unmet desires, and goals beyond your grasp. That doesn't mean you shouldn't try to achieve your goals or to realize your dreams for your life. But you need to recognize that you shouldn't put happiness on hold until these visions become a reality.

So right now I could talk more about unrealized potential and unfulfilled dreams, or I could talk about the present blessings that abound in my life. I have a wonderful family; sisters who make me smile; a father who works hard and models godliness, a mother who encourages me and believes in a bright future; a brother who genuinely cares. I also am part of a church family who have ministered to me in so many ways. I have work that is meaningful and rewarding. I have had the chance to get a good education. I have a comfortable home and more than enough to eat. I have a good reliable car. I have friendships that I really value.

I also have a Heavenly Father who loves me, and a Saviour who died for me and has made me new, and a Comforter who guides me. This amazing God forgives all my sins and heals all my diseases and redeems my life from the pit in the words of Psalm 103. Yes, I am truly blessed. 

Time Capsule

Today I gave my future brother-in-law a letter I had written the summer I turned fifteen. My sister who is ten years my junior is getting married at the end of the summer to her true love after getting engaged in Zanzibar a few weeks ago. I had alluded to this letter, but today my sister asked me if I could dig it out of the folder marked Special Occasions and Mementos in my cluttered filing cabinet and show it to her husband-to-be.

The contents of the letter were primarily about my sister's vivid imagination which manifested itself in an imaginary husband and numerous imaginary children at age five. Naturally I would have to tell my future brother-in-law of this previous marriage and other cute stories of the sister I dubbed "Fuzzhead". I had written the letter in tiny cursive writing on fancy stationary and it was three pages long.

In the same time capsule was a letter to my future husband which I couldn't resist opening this evening. It was sealed with a heart sticker and was clearly influenced by the True Love Waits movement. The contents consisted of promises and prayers and wonderings I won't elaborate on, but you can probably imagine a sentimental fourteen-year-old would write. In case my future husband ever materialises, I won't get into any details.

My fourteen-year-old self had anticipated the possibility that my future husband might not exist. She was definitely a romantic, but somewhat realistic in her expectations. She couldn't imagine the course of her future life, but she remained sweetly hopeful. If I could write her a reply, I am not sure what I would say. Keep dreaming, perhaps, and keep praying, and remember your own earnest vows sealed with a heart sticker and written in loopy cursive. I wouldn't tell her that in twenty years she would be writing a blog post on a lonely Friday night, with no future husband yet in the picture.

The Bible and Me

I don't know exactly when it began, but it might have happened sometime while I was reading "A Year of Living Biblically" by AJ Jacobs. I think it dates to about that time. The book was a critique of fundamentalism and also a humorous tale in which the author decides to follow every single command in Bible. It was an interesting read for sure. Anyway it was around this time that a shift happened in the way I looked at the Bible. I had always seen the Bible as God's Word, almost in a mystical sense. I knew human authors had written it, but they were inspired to write by the Holy Spirit and what they wrote was God's message. He had guided the process whereby the books were selected to become the Bible.

I began to look at the Bible less as a divine message and more as a human creation. Not that I wholly ceased viewing it as God's word, but I began to think more about the human authors and their motivations. I started looking at the Bible through the lens of scepticism. After awhile it became harder to view it through the eyes of faith, and as God's word for me now.

I am reading through the Bible in one year. The plan has the Epistles on Sundays, the Pentateuch on Mondays, history from Joshua to Esther on Tuesdays, Psalms on Wednesdays, Poetry on Thursdays, Prophesy on Fridays, and the Gospels and Acts on Saturdays. Getting through Jeremiah and Ezekiel seemed a little like a chore. I found many days I read to get through the reading and not to hear from God. Then I wondered why I was reading it. Was it just to check off the box Bible reading on the list of what I thought a good Christian did or was it to learn and grow, listen and apply? Was I like the foolish builder who fails to put Jesus' words into practice? Was I deceiving myself by listening to the word and then not doing what it says?

I want to regain my love for the Scriptures and see them through the eyes of expectant faith. I want to be truly wise and walk in the way I should go by the light of God's word.

Changing Seasons

Even though the snow was falling this morning and is still on the ground right now and I saw gently drifting flakes this afternoon, summer isn't very far away and that means I only have a couple months left with the client I have been working with part-time at a local school. That means I have only a couple of months left to plan another job transition. My foot care nursing job is till only a few hours a week most weeks, so I don't anticipate that to grow exponentially in the next couple of months.

Ideally I would like to work full-time in foot care nursing, but I am not ready to start my own business just yet. I can wait and see what other assignments I get in home care, but that seems too much of passive approach. I need to make some kind of plan to avoid another summer of little work and too much leisure.

I will definitely be sad to say good bye to my young client. I never thought I would spend time again in a kindergarten classroom, but I will miss it. I will miss being called Miss Suzy and watching children being creative and active. I will miss the controlled chaos of lunchtime and the exuberance of playtime.

Life is a series of transitions. When one season ends, another begins. Change can be hard, but each spring holds the promise of new beginnings and new opportunities for growth. I hope this summer another door will open and I will walk through with confidence. In the meantime I will work and plan as much as I can and enjoy the end of this season.

Dreams

A few weeks back I attended a women's conference called Awake My Soul. The theme song was Chris Tomlin's song of the same name, for which I got roped into performing a dance with flags not once but several times over the course of the weekend. The song is based on a portion of scripture in Ezekiel describing the valley of dry bones and how they come to life as the prophet prophesies.

Both key-note speakers chose to speak about dreams from God and encouraged us to dream big dreams for the impact of our lives. One speaker spoke about David's mighty men and their exploits, tying it into the theme rather ingenuously, although at the time I resisted her interpretation. At one point in the conference we were supposed to write down a dream. I sat there and struggled to write anything down at all. I ended up writing rather lamely "to find a dream". I felt like it had to be something huge, something inspirational, something sensational. Just writing "I want to get married and have a family" didn't seem to cut it. Besides did I really really want to do that? At the time I wasn't sure, but with some recent bad news I received, I am even more certain marrying might not be the wisest thing, especially if I think it will be my life's salvation.

More than ever, I feel limited and constrained in my visioning for the future. I feel limited by my mental illness. Even though I successfully completed university and later succeeded in becoming a nurse, I don't feel secure or very hopeful about my future. I know in times of stress and pressure I will always be vulnerable. I know I will have to take medication likely for the rest of my life. A friend of mine who struggles with her mental health recently had her marriage fail. I have realized that sometimes it is harder on the family and spouse of the person who is ill than on the person themselves.

My pastor recently said something about people being medicated, but not being healed. I was very much offended, as I had for many years sought a healing that would result in not being on medication anymore, but I have come to the conclusion that I need medication to stay well enough to avoid a trip of the psych ward. If God was going to heal me in that way, he has had many years in which to accomplish it. I have given up on that dream sadly.

When you need to be on medication such as I am on, being pregnant is not something that just happens sometime after you get married. It has to be carefully planned with health professionals, if it happens at all. Then too marriage and raising children are both stressful and there are no guarantees, one that you will remain well and two that you will be a good wife and mother.

I was hoping God would make me some guarantees. At the end of the conference there was going to be ministry time and I hoped that someone with prophetic vision would speak into my life and make the dry bones live. Instead we were to pray for each other and I ended up praying with two young teens and a woman I didn't know. After awkwardly participating in praying for the two teens, I explained I didn't have a dream, and the woman asked if I had had any dreams when I was a child. I mentioned when I was five I wanted to be either a singer or a missionary, but that I couldn't sing very well, I had just really enjoyed it. The woman asked me where I had wanted to go as a missionary and I said to Africa. Eventually she asked me if I had a husband or any children, and when I said I had none she asked me why I wasn't in Africa, what was stopping me. Tears came to my eyes, but I didn't explain the limitations of a mental illness or about how it really wasn't my dream any more. She said she felt I had a big call on my life.

When I came home from the conference the second day, I felt saddened by the fact I hadn't been able to write any dream down. But after speaking with another person who had attended the conference and hadn't written a dream down either, I realized that not every one needs some big, grand dream. Sometimes you need to be behind the scenes supporting others' dreams. And sometimes you just need to be faithful in your small sphere of influence, serving others.

This is the most depressing post I have written in awhile. I wish there were some way to turn it around into the most uplifting post. But I am hurting about some dreams I have already let go of, and some other dreams that I might have to give up on. I am wanting some guarantees. Yeah I would like some grand dream that would add meaning to my life, but I am no longer a dreamer. That part of me is as dead as those dry bones in the valley.

Chocoholic

It started with a box of chocolates my friend bought me for Christmas. They were assorted Lindor and the box was so enjoyable and also looked so pretty sitting in my room that I bought some more Lindor chocolates, one bag as a gift for a friend who shares my love of chocolate and one for myself to restock my beautiful box. But I ended up eating both bags of chocolate. Then I bought a large chocolate bar for my friend who I hoped to see soon. It was a brand I loved and I ate that too.

Later I bought more Lindor chocolates and managed to keep them for over two weeks without eating them. I forget exactly how many times this scenario played out, but needless to say I still haven't seen my friend and I just ate a Lindt box of chocolates that I got on sale the day before Valentines Day, a box I had intended to give to this friend. It was originally $17 and marked down to $9.99 and I also bought a box to share with my family which was gone by the end of Valentine's day. The second box sat in my desk drawer. I resisted its allure for a few days, but once I got into the box the chocolates disappeared at alarming speed. They were so decadent and luxurious, velvety rich and delectably smooth. Exquisite didn't even begin to describe them.

The amount of chocolate I have bought and devoured in 2014 is probably enough calories to feed a family of four for a week. And a lot of the chocolate was bought with the intention of giving as a gift, but I think I knew I might end up eating it. I wanted to prove to myself that I could save the Lindt chocolate for my friend and I knew he would really enjoy them, but I could not resist the Swiss luxury selection.

Clearly I have the same relationship to chocolate that some people have with alcohol. I am an addict. I need to curb my purchases of chocolate and limit my intake to an acceptable level. But chocolate gives me such delight. There is a moment of pure pleasure as it melts in my mouth and I can't stop at just one. 

My chocolate habit is sabotaging my weight loss efforts and destroying my sense of personal integrity. I have shown an utter lack of self control and I have lied to myself and others.

As a chocoholic who is out of control, I must now commit myself to zero purchases of chocolate for the next two months. I can eat chocolate in baking and chocolate I haven't purchased, but I will not buy myself any more chocolate until after Easter. I will find something else to give my friend as a gift even though I am sure he would have loved that box of Lindt swiss chocolate almost as much as I did. 

Things I didn't realize...

... Zumba exercises do not merely consist of a close approximation of the Zumba instructor's moves, but also involve tightening the abs and butt at appropriate times. So even if it vaguely looks like you are following the basic routine, you are probably not getting the full benefits of the exercise without this crucial element. And I mean, vaguely.
.... University is not just about academics and getting on the honour roll every semester. It is about learning about yourself, exploring new experiences, and getting involved in things you are passionate about. And it is about learning how to think, not just learning about how the professor would like you to think.
.... Some opportunities are too good to be squandered. When you have an opportunity to present a paper at a conference, seize the moment and take a risk. Don't be afraid to step out of your comfort zone.
... On a somewhat related note, as much as you scorned the idea of attending school to obtain your Mrs. degree, would it have killed you to do some dating or even meaningful social interaction with the opposite sex while in university? I really think you would be a more well-rounded person.

... Sometimes you can be following all the rules, but still not be living right. It is not merely what you do and avoid doing, it is what you fail to even attempt.

... You might think you have an unique story of suffering and hardships. But chances are the person next to you who you think has a perfect life has their own set of challenges and struggles.
... You shouldn't just judge your life from how far away you are from your goals and dreams, but by how far you've come.
... Marriages aren't the happy end to the story but the beginning of a new set of challenges and demands. Getting married doesn't mean your problems suddenly go away and you are completed and self actualized. No relationship is like that portrayed in a Christian romance novel of the type you read as a preteen.
.... You might enjoy being pursued, but it is not fair to lead a person on who you already know is not someone you would see yourself dating.
... Sometimes you have to let go of friendships. Yeah it hurts, but people grow apart and it is a natural part of life.
... When you realise some one is giving you terrible advice and asking you to compromise your beliefs, you should probably go with your gut instinct and end the relationship.
... Slenderness is not a platonic form... ha ha you first year philosophy student who happened to be some forty pounds slimmer than your present self. No wonder Professor Botha was amused. Neither is slenderness some grand utopia when your problems melt away like the bulge around your middle.
... A nursing career is not for the faint of heart. It is one thing to earn your diploma and pass your registration exam. It is another to be an excellent nurse and to push yourself to become a better one.
... Failure is just a stepping stone on the road to success.
... When you can't end a blog post on a suitably high note, sometimes you should just go to bed. Cheerio!

A Blog about Nothing, or How to Waste a Perfectly Good Day in Three Easy Steps

It is strange how a day can slip by and you won't even remember how you spent it and your list of things accomplished is scandalously short. Today I had an unexpected day off as the client I work with at the school where I work was sick. I had already dressed in my uniform, had breakfast, and did morning devotions when I found out I wasn't going to work. Other taking a short walk made shorter by the chill wind, a walk with the dual purpose of exercise and prayer, and arranging to get together with a colleague, and scheduling an appointment with a new client for next week, nothing particularly productive occurred. Even the walk degenerated into a time to grouse and worry about whether I really was making the progress I thought I was in my life.

Endless checking of email of which I have several accounts to keep track of and time misspent on Facebook, overconsumption of the peanut butter cup cookies I baked a couple of days ago, reading every article in the newest Macleans, and watching episodes of Seinfeld with my sisters rounded out my day. A realisation that I was about to have a negligible pay day this week followed by two more less than robust pay cheques due to time off while my client is vacationing came about midday. My parents left for their vacation at around three. I had a solitary supper, cleaned up the kitchen, and listened to my new Switchfoot cd which ceased playing as I was writing this post.

In the next week I will have a lot of leisure hours, although I do have plans to shadow another nurse, get together with a friend for an afternoon, and work with a couple of clients which will take up some of my time. Still all this time can either be well or misspent, be used to pray or worry, be spent stuffing my face or disciplining my body and mind. I can plan activities I would enjoy or I can wile away my day doing a lot of nothing.

Welcoming the New Year

It really doesn't seem that long ago since we rang in the New Millennium with emergency plans just in case Y2K was the disaster that had been foretold. But that was fourteen years ago. Back then I was nineteen years old and working in an assembly line in a factory. That summer my older sister was married and I began university in that fall shortly after entering my twenties.

I have since acquired a BA, a college diploma in Practical Nursing, and some life experience that I'd like to think has taught me wisdom. I am now a nurse and just starting out in the foot care nursing field after getting my certification in advanced foot care nursing this past summer. My sister is now a mother of four children and my youngest sister is seventeen and anticipating entering university in the fall of 2014.

2013 was a year of growth and change. At the end of April I stopped working with the client I had been working with full-time. At the end of June I began my foot care course and by the end of August I had my certificate. In September I began working part-time at a school while looking for a job in foot care nursing. This year has been one of personal and spiritual growth, especially in the last twelve weeks as I pursued personal goals with the help of life coach. I am growing closer to God and learning to hear his voice and I am increasing in confidence and gaining a sense of hope and purpose.

I have been spending the last days of 2013 with a dear friend. We are going to welcome the New Year with hopes of good things to come. This year I am planning on doing a devotional study about learning to deepen my level of communication with Jesus; this study was a gift from my mentor. New Years resolutions range from the mundane resolve to floss every single day to the more profound goal to deepen my existing friendships and to make new friends through a more active social life and volunteer opportunities. I also resolve to exercise more, eat less, and lose some excess weight.

Fall Projects

This fall I have working on two life projects with the help of a mentor who is coaching me. One of them is jumpstarting my career as a foot care nurse and the other one is growing my relationship with God. This week something happened that could lead me on a path to discouragement and despair, but thankfully I think I will learn from this event and grow by it. My coach pointed out that were this to happen two years ago, I would have been a basket-case, but that I am not at all the same person I was then. This encourages me that I am making steady progress and that I should not give up. The night is always darkest before dawn.

The passage in "Jesus Calling" yesterday really spoke into my situation: "Leave outcomes up to me. Follow Me wherever I lead, without worrying how it will all turn out. Think of your life as an adventure, with Me as your Guide and Companion. Live in the now, concentrating on staying in step with Me. When our path leads to a cliff, be willing to climb it with My help. When we come to a resting place, take time to be refreshed in My Presence. Enjoy the rhythm of life lived close to Me" (Sarah Young, 338).

Just what I needed to hear as someone who finds a lot to worry about. I am glad Jesus is with me to be my guide, even if sometimes I don't really want to climb that cliff. Living in the now and focusing on the path just ahead of you, instead of worrying what will happen in your future life, is good advice, but it is hard to do. The message to leave the outcomes up to God, gives me a sense of peace and calm, even in the midst of times of turmoil and uncertainty.

I find that as I listen, I do hear God's voice and my relationship with God becomes based less on fleeting emotion and more based on trust and assurance. In the past couple of weeks I have worked on breaking wrong thought patterns, a work in progress which involves recognizing lies you have believed and replacing them with truth from scripture. I have also been attending more times of corporate prayer and Immanuel sessions this fall. Immanuel sessions are times when you, guided by a coach, seek a connection with Jesus in which you can hear his voice and find out what he wants you to know. He might take you to a place or memory that will help you resolve a recurring pattern in your life, or he might just tell you that he loves you, as many times as it takes you to believe it.

I will close with a passage from Psalm 27:13-14 which is referenced in "Jesus Calling" for November 19 and which inspires and encourages me in my journey this fall:

"I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living, Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD."

Fasting From Facebook

I have left Facebook for an extended period before and I have also blogged about it previously here. Essentially I am addicted to Facebook. Some people might be able to use it casually as a useful social networking tool, using it to schedule face time with friends, or to connect with long lost pals, or to answer the burning question whatever happened to Mary-Lou. But that's not how I have been using Facebook, and some days I was logging in more than 30 times. I had to read all my news feed and some of my Facebook friends who I barely knew when they were my university classmate I now "knew" from their frequent status updates and photos. It wasn't that I was an obsessive lurker of profiles, but if it was in my feed chances are I had read it or seen it. I didn't comment a lot on threads, and I usually only posted a status update once a week and liked several posts or pictures daily. At least that's how it's been lately. There was a time when I posted and commented and liked much more frequently.

It wasn't merely the frequency of my logging into Facebook or the time wasted that is problematic, it is the envious feelings that Facebook helps to provoke. Seeing so many of my peers settled into a life, mother to two or three or four children, happily married for three to ten years, made me dissastified with my single, childless life. Seeing one former classmate land position after position, juggling multiple nursing jobs and advancing in her career, made me feel sadly inferior. Why couldn't I simply be happy for these friends and why must I compare our circumstances? Jealousy had become like a sickness for me and Facebook was assisting its viral spread.

I was well aware of my unhealthy addiction to Facebook and the issues of envy and discontent with my life that it was compounding. So when I received the message "get rid of Facebook" during a time of prayer, while sitting in a church sanctuary, I knew who was asking and I knew why. I told God I would wait until I had finished my current Scrabble games and then I would deactivate my account. In the meantime I continued to use Facebook much as before, and started to wonder if I had really heard from God to remove Facebook from my life. I rationalized and equivocated, but I knew that I needed to follow the directive. So today I began my Facebook fast. I realize that I have issues I need to deal with that go far beyond an addiction to Facebook. However it is the first necessary step in a detoxification process. The duration of the fast and whether I can eventually be a casual user of this social networking site again I don't know. 

Songstress

Although I enjoy singing and listening to music, I am not one of those people who can consistently sing in the right key. When I was a child in Sunday school, I was one of the loudest singers, although not the most harmonic and one day a teacher took me aside and asked that I sing a little quieter so they could hear the other children. After that I guess I was more subdued as after a school production, someone (a fan of my joyful noise) came up to me and expressed their disappointment that they couldn't hear my singing, melodic songbird that I was. I took part in a Kiwanis Festival in grade one and I sang a song called "I have a loose tooth". I earned a Silver. Another memory involves a school presentation in which I was the little one in the song "There are five in the bed and the little one said 'Roll over. Roll over.'" Except in my case it sounded more like Woe ovah Woe ovah because I had difficulty pronouncing my l's and r's.

I remember in grade two at my new school shortly after we came to Hamilton, a group of girls were instructed to sing our memory work. My enthusiastic rendition soon left the other girls speechless and they were giggling and listening to me finish the song by myself.

I never joined our school choir as I had heard from girls in my older sister's class that a previous year the choirmaster had had every one close their eyes and had tapped individuals on the head if he didn't like their voices. I remember in grade five I sang my memory work to my teacher out in the hall and she said "you have a nice voice, why aren't you in choir?"

When a very small child, I can recall answering the question about what I wanted to be when I grew up as that I wanted to be either a singer or a missionary. I would invent my own songs as young children do. But eventually I realised I had more enthusiasm for singing than actual talent. Nowadays I occasionally sing in the shower or along to a cd I am listening to, I sing in church with the music happily drowning out my voice, or I join my non-musical family in our horrendous version of Happy Birthday whether at a birthday meal or on the phone to a far away family member.  The other day my client at the school where I work asked me to sing her a song and I sang to her "The Sound of Music" rather quietly, relieved when she lost interest and my voice could peter out. I might not be the songstress I once dreamed of being, but singing can be fun, provided you don't have an audience of discerning critics. I am happiest singing loudly and not being able to hear myself.

Devolution

At first I thought it was the fact I didn't sound very interesting or that my lack of social life somehow seeped into my profile. Sure I didn't highlight the detail that I still live with my parents or that at thirty-some odd years old, I haven't been in a long-term relationship. But reading between the lines, maybe it was all too clear that my Friday nights were most often spent at home, reading, watching a movie for the first or fifth time or challenging my mother to a game of Scrabble. I have to admit my first dating profile, back when I joined ChristianCafe sounded a lot more appealing than my latest incarnation on Match.com.

Then I wondered if it could be my advancing age? Back then I was under thirty. Or perhaps my profile pictures were not attractive enough? Or maybe my understated expression about the importance of faith in my life was off-putting both to non-believers, who I didn't really want to attract anyway, and believers, who maybe felt it didn't go far enough. A friend had suggested I downplay this emphasis since a previous profile had sounded too religious. 

Maybe if I took a break and tried to achieve a more interesting and appealing life, I could return to the world of online dating and write a better profile? One that would attract some interest and, more importantly, lead to a real-life connection with Mr. Right?

I read some articles and had some discussions about dating websites and Christian dating websites and grew more disheartened. It seemed a lot of guys use Christian websites who aren't who they claim to be and who find Christian dating websites a means to better exploit vulnerable women. And many men use online dating to hook up with no need to commit or settle down and an endless array of women to choose from. It certainly appeared that the only men I was attracting was divorcees and men in their fifties. And then there was that guy who contacted me from an American prison.

In talking to a male friend who wasn't a Christian, I almost despaired of the existence of men of integrity who weren't addicted to porn and who were committed to sexual purity. Almost, but I realised I knew many men who were men of integrity and honour. My friend's view that "all men are pervs" should not cause me to doubt that there were men who were godly, respectful of women, and, even if they were sometimes tempted by lust, had made a covenant with their eyes not to look at a woman lustfully. Men who saw women as more than objects.

In my forays in online dating, I have written many profiles, I have chatted with some men, exchanged emails back and forth, and have even met some individuals in person, many of whom were decent people. I haven't found the One and I have wondered if the One even exists and whether I should even hold onto that concept or not.  I have tried ChristianCafe, eHarmony, and Match.com, moving from explicitly Christian to more secular, and with each new website, I have made fewer connections and met less people. With each attempt I have grown less hopeful. I know dating websites do work for some people, but they haven't worked for me. I realise now with each new profile I have compromised more and been less true to myself and more vague. I should be more confident in who I am, engaged in my life and interested in other people and then, whether I meet Mr. Right or not, I will find more satisfaction in life and success in my relationships. 

Decluttering

Sometimes you don't realize how cluttered your living space has become, until you start to clean it and throw out four bags of garbage and six bags of paper... Yes that's what actually happened to me in the last week. It started on my birthday when my sister phoned me to tell me what her birthday present would be for me. She would help me clean and organize my room, which is something I had asked for, but didn't really expect to get.

My sister didn't realize what she was getting into or the state my room was in. We worked four hours solid and made progress but were no where near completion. I had run out of closet, desk, and filing cabinet space, and my foot care nursing and nursing supplies with back packs, tote bags, and my large tool box out in plain view as well as untidy piles of miscellanous items. My book shelf was overflowing with books and my desktop and dresser were cluttered and untidy on the outside and overfilled within. The main problem is how many papers for my many years of schooling I had held onto. Even though, in studying for my nursing exam, I did not review the entirety of my nursing notes which were nearly illegible anyways, I had kept nearly all of them from all five semesters. I was fooling myself that I would ever look them over again and they were taking up valuable closet space. They couldn't go in my filing cabinets, because I had kept so much other paper from my university career and from each year of my life since I was twenty when I had gotten the filing cabinet. I think I had kept 75% of the papers I got in the mail in that time period.

My sister and I started by cleaning my closet and then managed to get my nursing supplies into my closet. My sister tidied up my dresser while I ruthlessly threw out my notes and other various papers from my closet and desk. By this time we were hungry and nowhere near done. After a snack and texting break, we worked some more, until it was suppertime. My sister outlined what my strategy should be when I would, as she strongly hinted, be working solo. I spent the long weekend doing lots of cleaning, sorting, and throwing out and by Tuesday my room was basically clean. It was such a good feeling to have a clean, less cluttered room and to let go off all those papers! It was not as bad as the hoarders featured on tv, but it was pretty unliveable. 

I would like to go through a similar process, except this time with my life! I am sure I am holding onto to a lot of stuff I should be letting go of.

Messages

I have a bad habit of reading my daily horoscope at the start of my day as religiously as I read the daily comics. I don't exactly believe in it, but I find it interesting to speculate whether its vaguely worded pronouncements will really be reflected in the day to come. I used to avoid horoscopes as something with the taint of the occult, so much so that I deliberately remained ignorant of what my sign was. I am a Virgo, as is my father, and I find it amusing that he and I share the same fuzzy predictions for our day, though I am sure he doesn't read them.

I have a better habit of dipping into a daily devotional by Sarah Young called Jesus Calling, though not so religiously. I find I sometimes don't read it until the day is over, and sometimes I read it the night before. That somehow seems wrong like trying to take on tomorrow before today is even over. Sarah Young writes as though Jesus is speaking directly to the reader building on a similar theme throughout each month and drawing from three related Bible passages.

Today's message was a meld of Psalm 42:7, Psalm 95:1-2, and Jesus' words in Matthew 7:24-25 about the wise builder who builds his house upon the rock, a picture of those who hear Jesus' words and put them into practice:

"I speak to you from deepest heaven. You hear Me in the depths of your being. Deep calls unto deep. You are blessed to hear Me so directly. Never take this privilege for granted. The best response is a heart overflowing with gratitude. I am training you to cultivate a thankful mind-set. This is like building your house on a firm rock, where life's storms cannot shake you. As you learn these lessons you are to teach them to others. I will open up the way before you, one step at a time."

~Sarah Young

It strikes me that the voice of Jesus calling is the message I need to being tuning into on a daily basis, and discerning his message for me from God's word and the Holy Spirit, who communicates to my spirit, should replace my daily horoscope fix. I can hear from the Word that was in the beginning, that was with God, and that was (and is) God, and I can hear very directly. This message not in the least vague, but has immediate application to my individual life. I can intimately know this person. Today I am learning more about the importance of gratitude, a message that already should have been driven home by Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts. Somehow I don't readily put these truths into practice. I guess I lack true wisdom. The wind and rain will inevitably come against my dwelling and test the foundations of my life. The promise in the last line comforts me about the gradual nature of the journey and the sure guidance of my Lord.

Thankful

On a day when tears are so near the surface, the bitter-sweet ending of a book can provoke me to sobs, when I walked out of the song service, because I just couldn't sing that song one more time, when I told a friend I felt sad and tried to explain why, I have come to a realisation that, despite my current emotional volatility and the circumstances in my life I wish were different, I have much to be thankful for. For one thing that I have a friend who cares enough to ask me how I am doing, who listens and prays with me and tells me to smile.

I am so grateful for the parents I have, who love and support me. They helped me while I went back to school for nursing, and my Mom remains confident that I will eventually find my niche, despite some setbacks. I am thankful for my siblings, my four amazing sisters and one wonderful brother. I appreciate my church family and my pastor, who seem to be constantly giving and giving. So many prayers and so much love and support, even to the point of being willing for me to work on their feet so I can meet the requirements of my foot care nursing course.

 In the process of writing this post, I remembered to call a good friend who I was concerned about. After hearing about her current situation, I was able to put my life in perspective. I might have challenges, but I have so many blessings as well. There are people with much more difficult circumstances, people facing things like cancer treatments or the end of a marriage or the loss of a loved one. Today I needed an attitude adjustment and maybe a good cry.

Three courses in 33 days: A Nurse's Education is Never Done

So it has been a couple of months since I have been working fulltime. I had been working with the same client five days a week for ten months, but it was decided that a male nurse was required as this is the client's preference and best meets his needs. To tell you the truth, the client has a distinct aversion to females and only had a female nurse because a male nurse was not available. Since I finished working with that client, I have yet to get a regular client and only work occasionally. I am still a novice nurse because I don't have a wide variety of experience to draw on. This lack of experience means I am not able to confidently nurse all clients or perform all the needed nursing skills with all clients.

So I am going to remedy this lack of experience by getting more training. This week I have taken a wound care course and also had some training in palliative care and some of the skills needed through my home care agency. In July my work has signed me up for a tracheotomy course and a ventilator course which are all day courses which require hundreds of pages of reading to prepare. I am also studying about palliative care with some online and written resources. But my main objective is a foot care course I have enrolled in that is on Saturdays for five weeks. I am hoping to work as a foot care nurse once I have completed the in class component with its labs and the twenty assignments I must complete in the four weeks following the in class part. I may also work part-time in the area of palliative care shift nursing, starting with whatever assignments I am given in July and building on my training.

I don't know if all this training will be too overwhelming, but I hope I can balance school, work, and home life and learn the material and skills well. Right now I feel quite apprehensive. Tomorrow is my first foot care class session. I have to drive to Brampton in my new (to me) car which is yet unnamed. Cornelius is in the shop to fulfill the conditions for his eventual sale which will happen next week hopefully. I better start preparing for bed and finish some last minute preparations for tomorrow.

I guess this is goodbye?

Our relationship began in 2005. At first I thought him rather a throwback and somewhat boring. He lacked colour and life. Then things got interesting when he turned out to be not as reliable as I had expected and he failed at a critical juncture and ruined my future sister-in-law's bridal shower. It was an expensive problem which I had to fix.

I must admit I treated him rather shabbily. I never did the things for him that made him feel special and appreciated. I was careless and sloppy. But I came to rely on him and developed a tender regard for his imperfections.

Now eight years later we have reached the moment where we have to part. I know he suspects something by my uncharacteristic behaviour. It is hard to tell him there is someone else.

Cornelius I love you and I will miss you. No car could ever replace you in my heart.

A Blog Retrospective: The Missing Person

Why is it that your nocturnal revelations are never as profound in the clear light of day as when you have them in the wee hours of the morning? I spent Sunday evening reading through every single blog post of Consider the Lilies. I decided to do it on a whim, with the idea it might give me some insight into my life. It was after 1 am before I was done reading my very first post. By that time my brain was swirling with insightful ideas, and I awakened at 6 am with my mind full of thoughts that would allow no further sleep.

Most of the insights I can't recover with the same clarity or urgency or sense. I have a vague impression that I have changed quite a bit from my earlier blog persona. I don't think I am really the same person who wrote those earnest reflections or who thanked God in the midst of a health crisis. It reminded me of a Michael W. Smith song "Missing Person" in which he sings "there was a boy who had a faith that could move a mountain and like a child he would believe without a reason. Without a trace he disappeared into the void and I have been searching for that missing person." That version of myself is gone.

I was also reading the comments on each post, which used to be more numerous. There were some people who used to comment who I don't even know if they still follow my blog. From my stats for my new posts I don't think they do. The wise and mysterious R; the classmate who shared his spiritual journey and offered help; the young poet from another country who randomly visited my blog.

Some of top posts for pageviews on my blog are rather curious. A popular post is my favourite Bible passages one. Another is the poem I wrote for my sister's birthday. Then there is my post on "dandle and dale" in which I wrote a vignette and a poem on two random words, and my post on eighties fashions and toys. I guess the relative popularity of those posts is somewhat understandable for various reasons. But why a post entitled "My Abrasive Personality" or "The 101st post" would continue to get pageviews I can't really explain. The post that was most viewed was deleted. It was about the town hall meeting that W5 held about the former Dominion Christian Centre, now One Community Church. My sister, who attended the DCC and still attends OCC, was then estranged from the family and I wrote about my impressions and feelings in a post called "Truth and Lies."

In the end, I would have a hard time deleting this blog as I have sometimes considered doing. It is a record of my life and a journal of my impressions and thoughts whether inane or profound. Some of the writing stands the test of time. And while some of my posts are intensely personal and I wonder about having them posted in a public forum anyone could potentially read, I still could not delete this blog for that reason.

Yeah I have changed over the years, for better or for worse. But I still think it is important to "consider the lilies" and I need to be reminded not to worry about my life, but to "seek first" the kingdom of God now more than ever.

Grief

Sometimes news hangs more heavily on you than other times. Like when I heard that a former kindergarten classmate had been killed by lightning while on a family camping trip. I hadn't seen him in years, but it was sad to me that he would never go to university, have a family, or fulfill more of his amazing potential. Why did it have to happen? Why was a life cut short?

That's how I felt on Tuesday when I heard the news that Tim Bosma's charred remains had been found. A sinking feeling of hope dashed. I didn't really know him. He was a grade school classmate, but he went to another high school and I hadn't heard he had gotten engaged, or married, or that he had a daughter or anything about his life since grade school. When I saw his name in the news after he went missing, at first his name didn't even register as someone I knew. I followed the story, I watched the media briefings, I posted the missing poster on my Facebook wall, I prayed he would be returned to his family. I believed that God could perform a miracle, but then on Tuesday morning I heard the worst. I didn't cry, but my heart cried out that it was senseless and that it was wrong. Why was a man stolen from his family? Why would his wife never see his face again, his daughter grow up without him?

Today the tears came while I watched a tribute to Tim. No I didn't know him, I didn't know the person he had become, but my heart grieved... I listened to CBC radio and heard his wife's emotional words as I was driving to meet a friend and tears again blurred my vision. I couldn't imagine the grief his wife, family, and friends were feeling. I don't know what it is like to lose a husband, a father, or a son, let alone in such a tragic manner. I have never had a comparable worst day of my life, a day that will change all the days to follow so irrevocably.

I can only pray that the God of all comfort will comfort them, that he will carry them through, and that somehow good will come out of unspeakable evil. I know it will be a difficult road ahead for a long time, and the wound will always be there. I know it is nothing that platitudes can soothe and I don't know why it had to happen. I can pray they can come to a place of forgiveness and I can pray for justice for Tim. I can pray they will be able to fully grieve this loss, this essential part of them that is gone. I can thank God that their faith is strong, that they have a supportive community surrounding them. Still the questions remain.

Years after the death of my classmate who had been struck by lightning, I stood in a ski chalet built in his memory and read about his short but brilliant life. I smiled as my mom snapped a picture. And I remembered.

Memories

In my memory they live there still in the century old yellow-sided house bordered by well-tended flower beds nestled beside the rail road tracks. I remember the narrow winding green carpeted stair that creaked a complaint when you walked over the uneven steps, the cramped upstairs bedrooms with sloped ceilings, the dark-panelled living room with black moulded wood stove, long tan couch, and Grandpa and Grandma's particular chairs. There is a sliding door that leads out onto the deck and beside it is a shelf of treasured books.

Grandpa must be watering the plants in his greenhouse, and I suppose Grandma is in the kitchen preparing the noon meal. Or perhaps it is Sunday and a pot of Grandpa's famous soup simmers on the stove and Grandpa is reading a novel while Grandma relaxes with a copy of Woman's World.

I still feel we could visit them some Sunday afternoon after church. That we could eat a meal of Grandma's hamburger noodlebake with manderin orange salad and that I could sit on the couch beside my sisters and suck on a Werther's Original candy while reading about how "The Good Old Days They Were Terrible" or how "Kids Still Say the Darnedest things" listening to the conversation.

Nevermind that the old house now has other occupants and that Grandpa and Grandma had moved somewhere less memorable for their final years. I am no longer the child who delighted in a March break spent with my grandparents or who would ask for one more Werther's Original.  Nevermind that Grandpa and Grandma themselves are no longer living, Grandma having succumbed to a cancer and Grandpa following soon afterwards after caring for her so tenderly.

Because in my memory they live on in an old house surrounded by gardens just outside of the settlement of Corinth.

When Hope Springs New

I ripped my blog post title from a Janette Oke book I read back in my tweens when I was known to devour any Christian historical romance with avid enjoyment. This post doesn't have anything to do with that book which I only vaguely recall.

When Hope Springs New is my theme because I want to write something hopeful about the renewal of life that is often associated with springtime. Basically I want to write something hopeful and inspiring to myself who composes a large portion of my rather small readership of those who follow this blog. Winter can be a bleak season for me, notwithstanding Christmas and New Years resolutions. And while I am of course delighted to have a job, first of all, and to be working as a nurse, secondly, my particular job is not without its frustrations. And then there is my need for a new living arrangement, my lack of romantic prospects, and my spiritual spinning of wheels which has been much canvassed over my years of intermittent blog posting.

Yes this was the winter of our discontent, but lo it is the time when hope springs new and the tree bud and blossom and the brooks bubble and the flowers open their petals in a beautiful display of colour and life. For it is a new day and who says you can't start to become the person who you wished you were. Who says change isn't possible or that new attitudes can't begin to transform you and your life from the inside out.

Witness the personal transformation written of so convincingly in One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. Why if I actually applied even some of her ideas to my life, my life would be unrecognizable within the next year. Not to mention, if I were to apply what I know in my head of the Scriptures to my life, my heart would be made new. The problem is not with the lack of sources of inspiration or the lack of power of all that spring symbolizes to transform and renew life. No the problem is with motivation and perseverance, with ambition and drive.

What will it take to turn a bleak hopeless winter into a vibrant hope-filled spring? What will it take for me to be filled with hope and then to put the effort into achieving the hopeful vision for my life? Part of it has to do with the possession of an unswerving faith that God has a good plan for my life and that he will work in me what I am working out. This infusion of faith is difficult enough, but I also need something far more basic: the desire to change and grow and blossom into the person God has called me to be. Sometimes a prayer has to start with Lord I want to desire to change and follow your ways, help me to desire it and to have the strength to begin to do it.