Musings on Friendships

Friendships seem to ebb and flow, reshaping the shoreline of your relationships. Some friends fade out of the picture altogether, while others are in contact only briefly in the virtual world of Facebook or through a quick phone call. At this stage of my life I don't see any of my friends on a weekly basis. And I find I am at a much different place than most of my friends, which leaves us with less in common. I recently found out one of my married friends is pregnant and another friend is newly engaged. I am excited for them, but at the same time I realize our friendship will inevitably change as they enter a new stage of life, one from which I am excluded. And I admit I feel a slight pang of jealousy as I make comparisons between our different lives.

Sometimes I find myself brooding about one of my friendships. What is our friendship based on? Are we friends because years ago we had something in common and now we are just in some friendship holding pattern? Should we try to revitalize our relationship or is it time to let the friendship die a natural death?

I have always found the end of a friendship painful, no matter how it ends, whether a gradual fading out or an abrupt stop. I suppose I should just be grateful for the friendship that we had and remember our good times, but I usually focus on the regret that it is over and wonder how I could have preserved the friendship.

Facebook is good for getting in touch with people, but being a Facebook friend is a far cry from a genuine face-to-face friendship. I might know details about someone's life but that is different from sharing our lives.

I definitely could benefit from forming some new friendships and being more active socially. I suppose I could join a club or take up a new activity where I will meet other people. In September I plan to try joining a small group again at my church.

At least I have Great Hair!

This past week I heard the news that I didn't get into the accelerated nursing program at McMaster. Though not surprised at the result, I was still disappointed. I could take some comfort in the sentiment expressed in the old tired cliche "When God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window." With over three hundred and fifty applicants and only about thirty-five spots in the program, my chances of getting in were never that great. Now I have to decide whether to finish my second Chemistry course or not. To complete it I have to enrol in a $500 intensive two day laboratory course at McMaster next month. I am halfway through the Chemistry course, and the additional expense and effort no longer seem worth it. I for sure will complete my other Human Anatomy and Physiology course and the other Chemistry course and Psychology course I already completed are not a total waste of time since the first Chemistry course's excellent mark will help me towards getting into the Practical Nursing program at Mohawk and the Child and Adolescent Psychology course is likely similar to a required course in that program. I have applied to start that program in January, and am not sure when I will hear if I got in or not. In the meantime I can keep working at Connon Nurseries into the late fall. *Sigh*

But moving on to better news. My sister Rachel who recently completed her first year at McGill was one of fifty selected students to take the neuroscience program! Another step towards her future PhD :) My Mom is having a book launch for her recently published book Blooming: This Pilgrim's Progress. If you have not had the opportunity to read this excellent book of family life stories with an underlying spiritual theme tracking my mother's journey of faith, I encourage you to check out her blog by following the link Marian den Boer. Also tomorrow my sister Christina is getting baptized as a believer. Congratulations Christina on this important step in your spiritual journey!

And, as someone once comforted me, after I complained about the circumstances in my life, at least I have great hair! Yes just today I got my hair highlighted and cut, and I will now post a picture. As for my weight loss goals, so far I have only lost five pounds, but I have been walking two to four times a week. Unfortunately, I have also been snacking too much.

My beautiful hair

Eight Summers and Counting

If you told me as a student just finished her first year of university and starting a seasonal job at Connon Nurseries that nearly a decade later I would be beginning my eighth summer there, I wouldn't have believed you. If I did believe you could see this in my future, I would have probably have done some serious vocational planning and rethought my liberal arts degree in Honours English and Religion. In my second summer at Connons, I could not fathom why one older girl who had a business degree under her belt from Redeemer University College would be back working a general labour job.

After each year of school, I returned to Connon Nurseries for four months of repetitive, mindless manual labour, and after I graduated in 2005 and failed to find a job, I spent a fifth summer there, and worked into the fall before getting a receptionist job. What made the job were the people you worked with, other students mostly. Some summers were so much fun, and we had crew outings and filled the cutting room with laughter. Others were more dramatic with personality clashes or theological arguments that turned into personal conflicts. In the early spring we "pulled plugs", poking out the young plants with our sticks and trimming the roots with our pruning shears, with four of us going on the potting machine. We got to work with two Spanish ladies, Gloria, from Columbia, and the first year with Lilianna, also from Columbia, and every year after that with the diminutive Alma from El Salvador. They were a great team on the potting machine, and sat together in the cutting room in the summer months, filling their shared flat with expertly cut plants while conversing together in Spanish. They also taught us Spanish phrases and songs, and generally added colour and liveliness to the work environment. Another full-timer was Cheri who had worked there since 1990, knew much about plants and seemed to know everybody in the Dutch community, and was the designated waterer of flats. The first five summers our supervisor was Paul, or Paulito as Gloria called him, a short man of few words. Arie was the main supervisor, and other than my grandfather whose greenhouse I worked in during Spring Break growing up, he is the favourite of all the bosses I have had. He had a Dutch accent and a good humour, though he expected you to work hard and never place your elbows on the cutting room table.

I was a receptionist all winter into the spring and summer before leaving that position just as I was about to start living on my own. I soon found another job as an order desk clerk, a contract job that was flexible enough to allow me to pursue some Greek courses with the goal of going to graduate school the following year. These plans ended after I became ill and spent some weeks in the hospital. Arie phoned to see if my sister would be working in the summer, and when I answered the phone and he learned my job and health situation, offered me a job back at Connon Nurseries. I accepted and following another health set-back returned for a sixth summer, telling myself it was temporary until I regained my footing and found something else, and worked into the fall before beginning another receptionist job. But I was back for a seventh summer and third fall season, and now an eighth summer. While I am now taking correspondence courses with the goal of getting into a nursing program, I cannot rule out the possibility of a fourth fall or even a ninth summer should I be accepted into the practical nursing program and not the accelerated nursing program at McMaster, which is extremely competitive.

While I sometimes am embarrassed to admit I still work at Connon Nurseries after obtaining a bachelors degree, I will readily attest that Connon Nurseries has been good to me, and most of the countless hours I have spent there have been relatively happy ones. There is something about repetitive, mindless labour that is soothing and the camaraderie with coworkers has usually enlivened the monotony of endless pulling of plugs or cutting of plants. And while I hope that in nine years, I will be busy with a career in nursing and taking care of a family, I think I will always be slightly sentimental about the nurturing of young plants and the smell of potting soil.

Weighty Issues

My weight has fluctuated over the years. Being on medication that causes weight gain for over ten years, I have a ready excuse for my ballooning size. Not only is my appetite artificially enhanced, my body "wants" to be heavier. The times when I have lost weight it is because I switched to a medication that causes less weight gain than the one I was previously on. In the summer of 2000 I was making a medication change as well as working in a hellishly hot environment, and these factors combined to curb my appetite and the pounds dropped off with very little effort on my part. Every time I got fitted for my bridesmaid dress for my sister's wedding it had to be taken in. I was a trim 130 pounds, my weight in grade nine. When I started university, I gained ten pounds and then lost it the following summer. My new medication also caused weight gain, and I gradually put on weight as I completed university and entered the work-force. In 2007, when I was again in the hospital dealing with my illness, I switched medications again to one that still caused weight gain but to a lesser degree, and also made it hard to eat due to the side-effects. I also was fasting from chocolate for Lent and generally avoiding sweets, eating healthy, and exercising. Over the summer I continued to lose weight until I weighed 125 pounds, and didn't want to lose anymore. Unfortunately the new medication elevated my prolactin levels, so I had to go back to my old more expensive medication, and since then I have put on thirty pounds, so that I now weigh more than I ever have before.

Considering the fact that the times I have lost weight it has been primarily because I got off a medication that is notorious for causing weight gain, I wonder if I can even exercise enough and eat healthily enough that I can lose the added pounds. I can't rely on hunger signals as my appetite is not a reliable guide. I have to stop eating while I am still hungry. I need to avoid emotional eating or eating when I am bored or happen to be alone in the kitchen. I am writing this post to keep myself accountable to this new regimen. NO snacking between meals, other than fruits and vegetables. NO decadent desserts, other than for special occasions. Tea instead of hot chocolate. Smaller portions at supper. Going for a walk of at least twenty minutes at least four times a week, even if I have no one to walk with. My goal is to lose twenty pounds by the end of the summer, five pounds every month. Although my coworkers kindly tell me I look better at this weight, I don't like the added paunch and padding. I hope to write a celebratory post when I reach my goal. I think I'll take an unattractive picture of myself soon so I can have a before and after photo.

Why I (still) love romantic comedies

I can pinpoint the moment when the romantic comedy era officially ended in our household. It had been a bimonthly ritual, usually on a Friday night, that a sister and I would head to the local video store and pick up the latest offering of what is disparagingly referred to as a chick flick. "Runaway Bride" or "The Wedding Planner" or "Save the Last Dance". I always knew I was the more enthusiastic one about this type of movie, but my sister was willing to walk to the store and watch the movie with me, if I was paying. The moment that spelled doom for the companionable watching of this admittedly predictable genre of the movie, was the day we picked out "Little Black Book." The movie itself was forgettable, and I can't recall much of a plot, though it involved Brittany Murphy being angry about her boyfriend's black book of women's phone numbers, but one thing that sticks with me is its incredible suckiness. That and the fact that after watching that movie, my sister would no longer agree to watch any romantic comedies I selected and developed a taste for foreign films. Watching movies alone is not much fun, so I usually went with her counter selections. Since then I have fallen out of the habit of regularly renting movies, though I still do occasionally. I haven't seen "The Holiday" or "Made of Honour", though I did still manage to watch "27 dresses" and "The Devil Wears Prada" with my other sister who also swore off romantic comedies for a time.




So why do I still love romantic comedies?



1. They may be predictable, but you can always count on a happy ending.



2. While some have claimed romantic comedies create unrealistic expectations about real-life relationships, the lack of realism is part of their charm. Who wants escapism to be true to life?




3. The male lead is, with a few exceptions, good-looking, whatever the calibre of his acting.




4. The classic story-line: boy meets girl, boy is marrying other girl, boy and girl fall in love but can't admit it, other girl jilts boy at the altar, boy realizes who he really loves and chases after girl who is leaving town, boy and girl share passionate kiss, roll credits. Whatever the variation on the formula, you have to love the melodrama.



5. The belief in the power of love to overcome all the misunderstandings a two hour plot will allow warms the heart.





6. No matter how many times you have watched the same basic storyline, you still thrill when the two characters who are meant for each other finally ride off into the sunset.




7. The fantasy of love at first sight. For a moment you can believe anything is possible.



8. Romantic comedies usually make you laugh aloud at least once, and might even make you cry.


9. When you watch a romantic comedy, you know what you can expect. You may not be surprised by the film, but you won't be disappointed either (unless it is an exceptionally poorly done film).


10. A romantic comedy transports you to another dimension, where dreams really do come true and every woman has her perfect soul-mate.

Jealousy and Me

Recently it occurred to me that I have deep-seated jealousy issues. Right now I could list five people I have been intensely envious of in that their circumstances, their situation in life, their very personalities stir in me a deep sense of jealousy, and could enumerate still more individuals whose circumstances I envy. These feelings have arisen as I stared at blog or Facebook page and contemplated the gap between where those pictured are and where I am. They have filled me with a noxious poison as I find out about engagements, pregnancies, weddings and babies of people I know. Sometimes I will visit blogs of acquaintances, randomly following blog links from blogs I track regularly or less randomly visiting a blog I have visited before during previous excursions into the blogosphere. There are some I can't view without feeling that these people with their meaningful lives, beautiful little family units, and attractive personalities seem to have it all. Does this jealousy stem from my discontentment with my own life and circumstances and a sense of inadequacy and inferiority? Far from serene in my situation in life, I tend to focus on what I lack. I am busy with school and hope it will lead to a meaningful career eventually, but I don't face the future with breathless expectation but rather a subdued fearfulness. Sometimes I look at the person I am becoming and I don't even like myself. What happened to trusting that God has a plan for my life and considering the lilies? I guess I am too busy considering the gap between where I would like to be and where I am. When I started this post I thought blogging on this subject might lead to some helpful insight or resolution. Writing about it has made me realize that my issues go deeper than a problem with jealousy, but I haven't come to any solution. Maybe it is because I don't want to change badly enough.

My Journey

From October 20 to 28, I was in Saskatchewan visiting my sister Karen, her husband Clint, my precocious nephew Owen and adorable niece Julianna. It was my first time seeing Julianna who was born in August. Owen insisted on calling me Inna, even though he could say Suzy and even Suzanne. He would frequently tell me up "get up, up", gesturing as if to lift me from my spot on the couch where I was reading and then ofcourse we would spent some time playing with his many vehicles, his blocks, or his puzzle. We also played outside where he loved to hide behind the trees so I could look for him or to go down the slide or play on the swings. We were going to go to the zoo, but unfortunately the day we planned to go it was too cold. Julianna is a darling with a lovely smile and generally contented ways. She is happiest in her mother's arms, but sometimes she would allow me to hold her too. Most days passed with time for playing with Owen, reading, getting creamed at Tetris, doing some studying, and eating delectable meals. I saw the new baby chicks with Owen and went shopping in Saskatoon, and out for dinner with Karen for Julianna's first restaurant meal. We watched some movies and spent some time conversing.

Since I have been back, I have been trying to get back into study mode, but I haven't got as much done. The season is wrapping up at Connon Nurseries, and I may be finished there as early as November 15. Then I have a possibility of another seasonal job, and after that I will be looking for a part-time job while I work on my correspondence courses.

And Time Passes On

Today is my sister Christina's twelfth birthday. It doesn't seem that long ago that she was as small as Julianna, actually smaller. Christina was born seven weeks premature and did not have her sucking reflex yet. She looked so tiny and helpless, attached to tubes with her legs pulled up like a frog's. When she was two she was extremely cute with short blond hair and incredible energy. She loved to go to the park and was willing to trek all the way to the mall just for a chance to play at the park on the way home, plus a little something at the dollar store. She was articulate at a young age and once surprised us at the dinner table by singing part of "Cecilia" by Simon and Garfunkel that my brother had sung the day before "I got up to wash my face, when I go back to bed someone's taken my place." After that we had to be careful about what we said! Christina was just a toddler when she almost drowned in our pool, but thankfully my Dad was able to revive her and she suffered no brain or lung damage. Today she is a bright, cheerful, and creative preteen with a compassionate heart and a love of life. She loves to hang out with her friends, to write, to read, to swim, and to play soccer.

So Happy Birthday Christina! May God bless you in the years ahead.

Left photo: Christina at ten. Right photo: Christina and Julianna


Back in 1996 the OJ Simpson trial began, Princess Diana and Charles officially divorced, and Dolly the sheep was cloned. It doesn't feel like twelve years ago. In the meantime Princess Diana and Dolly the sheep have passed on, OJ Simpson is headed back to prison, and Christina is beginning her thirteenth year, while I still can't believe I am twenty-eight. The longer I live the faster time speeds by. It seems all the more urgent to seize the day, but maybe I'll go to bed first.

A Post Birthday Update

Since my last post, several new developments have gone undocumented. I wish I was blogging more, but inspiration is lacking. First on August 16, my niece Julianna Elizabeth Langelaar was born, weighing 6 pounds 14 ounces. She is a sister for Owen, and is a healthy, fairly contented baby who is settling into a routine at home. Her parents live in Saskatchewan so I won't see her until October 20 when I am travelling out there. Second I have registered to take some correspondence courses at Athabasca with the goal of eventually becoming a registered nurse. Next year I want to get into the two year accelerated program for nursing at McMaster. I plan to keep working while getting through the courses in my spare time. Right now I am working fulltime at Connon Nurseries, but that will end sometime in November, so after that I will most likely get a part-time job while I finish up the courses. I am starting with just two courses, but will be completing four.

When I explain my plans to people, I frequently encounter surprise, mingled with shocked disbelief or, occasionally, thinly veiled disapproval, and the question of "What made you think of nursing?" Well, I am attracted to a career of helping others who are sick and making a difference in their care. I like the idea of getting practical training which I then can use in as a professional in the health care field. Nursing is a career that is in demand, and the skills I will learn are highly useful. If I would like to work as a volunteer in the developing world, that is an option. As someone who has been to the hospital and been helped by nurses myself, I feel I would have the sympathy and compassion for my patients that is necessary in a good nurse. While nursing can be stressful and nurses need to be thick-skinned, it is a rewarding career that really makes a positive difference in the lives of people in need. In the past I have considered becoming a professor of biblical studies, but that requires six years of schooling and in the end, it may be hard to find a job in the field. I have talked about being a Bible translator too, but being a missionary in another country is a daunting prospect and a very sacrificial life path.

Yesterday was my birthday. It was a strange birthday, in that I didn't see a single family member. They are all in Saskatchewan until Labour Day, so I will be celebrating with them next week. I started out the day with a flat tire, so that was an adventure getting to work. I did get to go out for dinner with a good friend, so that was a better ending to my day. It is hard to believe I am already twenty-eight, and I don't know where the year has gone. It went by really fast.

Two Pieces (dandle and dale)

A friend, Jen Lougas, and I agreed to do an exercise where we each write two pieces using two randomly selected words. She chose one and I chose the other using a website that gave random words of varying degrees of frequency of use.You can follow my link and read her two pieces on her blog.





dan·dle

verb (used with object), -dled, -dling.

1.to move (a baby, child, etc.) lightly up and down, as on one's knee or in one's arms.



He spoke with a thick, Dutch accent and in friendly debates with my uncle would preface his remarks with "Nay, nay." His blue eyes gazed intently beneath bushy grey eyebrows and his ears with their hearing aids stuck out prominently beneath his sparse grey hair. He would take a short afternoon nap in his leather recliner, snoring faintly. In the same chair he would dandle his smaller grandchildren on his lap, singing a Dutch song with accompanying actions, clapping small hands together, lifting little fists to touch our ears, swaying us gently back and forth. He would finish the song with our favourite part, swooshing us to the ground as we laughed. I can still recall the Dutch sounds, but only have a vague idea of their meaning. Opa walked with an unique, stiff gait, his strides quick and heavy as he moved through his fields. He enjoyed rug hooking and conversing with strangers, and served my Oma's lemon meringue pies in messy pieces with an accompanying "Yoop." He was a man of faith and deep conviction, and was interested in church politics, saving many volumes worth of Acts of Synod. He loved history and could recall seemingly insignificant incidents from his childhood in the province of Zeeland, the Netherlands, writing a book for his grandchildren about his life until he immigrated to Canada from France. It amazed us that he had once been a young man driving a Harley Davidson through the roads of France, and that he had once pretended to be a doctor in order to see my premature father at a Parisian hospital. I can recall the summer day I waited on the swing set at my grandparent's backyard with a knot in my stomach, steeling myself for when it was my turn to say good-bye. I remember his earnest words and the taste of salt as I kissed him for the last time.



dale

noun
a valley, esp. a broad valley.



If you are a mountain-top, a snow-capped

peak, towering in pristine beauty,

then I am a valley, a wooded

dale, overshadowed by your grandeur


If you are an ocean, a tumultuous

sea, teeming with life

then I am a shore, a sandy

beach, sculpted by your breakers


If you are a sunbeam, a luminous

ray, dancing on the water

then I am a shadow, a cloudy

darkness, eclipsed by your brilliance

Psalm 139: A Reprise

I've posted this psalm before, but lately I need a reminder of its message, which I had forgotten. This passage, taken from The Message paraphrase, reminds me that God does not make junk and every person on this planet, including me, bears the image of "the High God", to borrow a phrase from Peterson.

Psalm 139
A David Psalm
1-6 God, investigate my life; get all the facts firsthand.
I'm an open book to you;
even from a distance, you know what I'm thinking.
You know when I leave and when I get back;
I'm never out of your sight.
You know everything I'm going to say
before I start the first sentence.
I look behind me and you're there,
then up ahead and you're there, too—
your reassuring presence, coming and going.
This is too much, too wonderful—
I can't take it all in!

7-12 Is there anyplace I can go to avoid your Spirit?
to be out of your sight?
If I climb to the sky, you're there!
If I go underground, you're there!
If I flew on morning's wings
to the far western horizon,
You'd find me in a minute—
you're already there waiting!
Then I said to myself, "Oh, he even sees me in the dark!
At night I'm immersed in the light!"
It's a fact: darkness isn't dark to you;
night and day, darkness and light, they're all the same to you.

13-16 Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
you formed me in my mother's womb.
I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking!
Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
before I'd even lived one day.

17-22 Your thoughts—how rare, how beautiful!
God, I'll never comprehend them!
I couldn't even begin to count them—
any more than I could count the sand of the sea.
Oh, let me rise in the morning and live always with you!
And please, God, do away with wickedness for good!
And you murderers—out of here!—
all the men and women who belittle you, God,
infatuated with cheap god-imitations.
See how I hate those who hate you, God,
see how I loathe all this godless arrogance;
I hate it with pure, unadulterated hatred.
Your enemies are my enemies!

23-24 Investigate my life, O God,
find out everything about me;
Cross-examine and test me,
get a clear picture of what I'm about;
See for yourself whether I've done anything wrong—
then guide me on the road to eternal life.

Happy Birthday Linda!

Today is my lovely sister Linda's 23rd Birthday. I already sang her our family's traditional off-key rendition of Happy Birthday, but I thought I would post something on my blog in honour of this milestone. Linda is an incredible person with a warm, caring nature. She is great with people and has a ready smile. As a sister she is supportive and fun, and always willing to go shopping and to share her excellent fashion sense. She will drive my car for me with skill and ease on long and short road trips. Linda, thanks for being such a great sister and I hope you have a great year. You have a special place in my heart and it is great to spend time with you.

Easter Thoughts

How does Jesus' resurrection give me life today? As I think about the miracle that happened almost two thousand years ago, I try to reawaken a sense of wonder, of joy, of hope. The victory of the empty tomb should bring victory to my day to day life. Jesus died for me, for all those who would believe, but he did not stay in the grave. He arose and death was finally defeated. He made possible eternal life and a bodily resurrection for those who trust in him. It is easy to forget how monumental, how wondrous an event we celebrate today. Christ is risen!

February Blas and Family Day

Lately I've been feeling down and unexcited by life's possibilities. February is a dreary month as winter drags on, and this year there will be twenty-nine days of it. New Year's resolve seems all but buried beneath the snow. So it was nice to have a holiday weekend with time off work. I spent Family Day walking through the winter landscape for a good part of the morning and then playing Scrabble with my parents. Not overly exciting, but my two sisters were both sick this weekend and Rachel had homework to do, so more elaborate plans will have to wait until next Family Day. I am grateful for my family, and for all their support and love, so on this day I pause and thank God for what he has given me. On an otherwise dreary day, it is good to be reminded of the blessings that can easily be forgotten.

My Grandpa

On Sunday, January 13, my Grandpa went to be with the Lord. He had just lost his wife of 58 years four weeks before. Now they are together again, but they will be missed by those they left behind. My Grandpa loved plants and as a retiree started his own greenhouse, something he had to give up when he suffered heart troubles. As a child, I enjoyed working in his greenhouse every March Break with my siblings. I started with soil preparation, and then graduated to transplanting, carefully planting seedlings in the moist soil. My Grandpa was a great boss and would even take us on outings, often to the used bookstore where each grandchild could pick out five books. He was an avid reader of both fiction and non-fiction, and he had a lot of wisdom that, if you were fortunate, he would pass on. He didn't waste words, so when he spoke you knew he had something important to say.

Watching my grandfather care for my grandmother, I could see how much he loved her. In the end, you could see the care required day and night was taking its toll. When my Grandma was in the hospital shortly before she passed away, Grandpa was growing visibly weaker. Following the funeral, he needed my Uncle Al to stay with him. Shortly after New Years he was in the hospital with pneumonia and other health problems. Now he is in a place without pain and suffering and loss. I will miss him very much.

Christmas 2007 and the New Year

On Monday, December 17 my Grandma passed away. She had been ill for some time, after being diagnosed with mouth cancer about three years ago. She had gone through surgeries, radiation and a case of shingles, and hadn't been able to swallow food all that time. My Grandpa tirelessly nursed her and fed her through a tube in her small intestine three times a day for a couple of hours each feeding. For the last week and a half of her life she was in the hospital and could no longer breathe on her own and didn't talk. My Grandma was a strong person who was cheerful and loving. I admired her for her lack of complaint and perseverence through adversity. In the end, she wanted to go home and I know she is now in a place without suffering or illness.

The funeral was on Saturday and the Christmas season was a time of grief as well as a time of celebration of my grandmother's life. She was in her 87th year and had a full life. She and my Grandpa had been married 58 years. They met in the Netherlands at the beginning of WWII and were separated most of the war, writing eachother letters through the occupation of Holland. They immigrated to Canada after marrying and had five children, four sons and a daughter. My Grandma was a champion Scrabble player, a good cook, and a loving wife, mother, and grandmother. She often laughed and had a warm smile. I know my Grandpa will find it hard to go on now his life companion is gone. I will miss her, but I am glad she is with Jesus and no longer suffering.

As another year approaches, I am taking stock of my life. I am not sure what this new year will bring. I am making some resolutions, including posting more often on this blog. Lately I have been more negative, and I want to renew my hope, faith, and love.

My Believer Baptism

On Sunday September 9, 2007 in my own backyard, surrounded by family, some of my friends, and many of the people from my fellowship, I was baptized as a believer. Although I had been baptized as an infant in the CRC, I felt this was a step that I wanted to take. Here is the testimony I had prepared (I didn't end up saying it as eloquently or in full):

Today is a very important day for me, and I am glad you all could be here. God has done amazing things in my life, and brought healing and strength to me. Most of all, I am grateful for what this baptism means that I am buried with Christ, with death to all the old ways, and raised to new life in him. I am grateful for the Holy Spirit, for he is the true comforter and guide in following Christ. I am grateful to my Heavenly Father who loves me so much. In the past six months I have been very ill, but God never abandoned me or let me go. What I had feared came upon me, but now I can already see that all things work together for good for those who are called according to his purpose. I know God has a purpose for my life, and in him I am a champion. I know Christ has the power to heal all my wounds and to also present me to God faultless, not because I am faultless, but because when he looks at me, he looks at me through Christ, the Lamb without spot or blemish. Jesus Christ is my Saviour and Redeemer and Lord and I will follow him all my life, but it is he that took hold of me and will not let me go. For this I give all praise and glory to God. While I am not a new believer, having previously professed my faith, I am being made new today.

When Pastor Bob Warriner, pastor of Flamborough Christian Fellowship, baptized me in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, he said that I was being made alive, alluding to Jesus' words "Lazarus Come Forth" to speak of my resurrection. I felt a deep sense of peace and assurance that this was a new beginning, though not the beginning of my walk with God, or of his call on my life. After all God chose me from before the creation of the world to be his child. I am very grateful for what baptism means; adoption, redemption, renewal, seal of hope and promise. Most important is what God is doing in baptism, but another important part is your own commitment to following Christ. Right now I don't know much about my direction, but I do know I will follow the Holy Spirit's leading and walk with Christ wherever that may lead.

Another post about Owen

I may strike you as an excessively gushy aunt, but my nephew is so cute and adorable. There is an even cuter picture too, of him holding the chicks in his lap that can be found, like all cute pictures of this beautiful child, on my sister's blog. That is Karen Langelaar, married to the wonderful Clint Langelaar, father of Owen, this miracle baby. Among Owen's habits are jumping in his jolly-jumper, getting new teeth, sitting up, flailing his arms in excitement, and dumping his toys on the floor. He now knows how to use a sippy cup, which means I can baby-sit him when I go there at the end of September, beginning of October.

Favourite or Meaningful Bible passages

I have amassed quite a collection of meaningful Bible passages. I very much miss the Bible I lost in the hospital (some confused patient walked off with it, but left the cover for me). Most of all I miss the scraps of paper with passages given to me in ministry sessions. So in celebration of my Heavenly Father, this being Father's day, I thought I would list some of my favourite passages from his love letter to me. It would be nice if I could have links in this, so you could follow them to my favourite passages, but I am not that blog savvy.

Romans 8 the whole chapter, especially "All things work out for the good of those who love him and are called according to his purpose" and "Nothing can separate you from the love of Christ"
Ezekiel 16:8 "Then I passed by and saw you kicking about in your blood, and as you lay there in your blood I said to you, "Live!"
That particular passage was given to me twice, once by Ace Clark when he visited for supper and gave out comic books and once by one of my pastors who I really admired and still do.
Psalm 139
I read this passage when we were studying Frankenstein in Professor Bowen's class. Since then it has come to mean a lot more.
Psalm 18
See my previous post.
Psalm 23
The Lord is my shepherd. I read a book while in the hospital about this psalm. It was written by a shepherd from Africa and I never will forget what this book taught me. Later I saw a beautiful liturgical dance to this psalm and after the service I let this song wash over me like cool cleansing water.
Psalm 91
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. This is a psalm my Dad would read to me.
Psalm 11
Karen my older sister gave me this one when I first got ill at sixteen.
Psalm 103
I included this passage in my testimony at Immanuel Christian Reformed Church over a year ago. My Oma was there as was my friend Mary-Ann and my parents.
Isaiah 43:1-7
My friend Jerri Batterink gave me this passage in a card when I was hospitalized at seventeen.
Ephesians 1:3-14, 15-22
My current pastor gave me this one (15-22) in a card, after I left his church for greener pastures (read shorter services, familiar worship style, comfort zone, timed sermons, wonderful, very dignified, people).
Ephesians 6:10-18
I always am in desperate need of the armour of God.
2 Timothy 1:7
For God did not give me a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind. This is practically my theme verse from the past decade.
Joshua 1:9
Be strong and of good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: For the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.
These words to Joshua resound in my spirit. I got a name card with this verse on it, shortly before entering the hospital (for the first time in nine years or so.) Later I got a journal with this verse on it at the Elim Women's Conference.
Lamentations 3:27-33
It is good for a man to bear the yoke while he is young. Let him sit alone in silence for the Lord has laid it on him. Let him bury his face in the dust- there may yet be hope. Let him offer his cheek to the one who would strike him, and let him be filled with disgrace.
For men are not cast off by the Lord forever. Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love.
For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men.
My mentor and hero from South Africa showed me this passage.
Matthew 6:25-34
My parents' wedding text, the meaningfulness of my name, the name of this blog all have to do with this passage. I would be a white lily of the valley if I ever was a flower.
Jeremiah 30:17 "For I will restore health to you and I will heal your wounds says the Lord."
My Aunt Reta sent me this one. That's a promise God is keeping.
Others: John 15 (I once preached a sermon on this to a congregation of one), Matthew 5:1-ll (the Beatitudes, I learned more about this at the Elim Women's Conference on my first weekend pass this past hospitalization. A woman named Eve spoke). Philippians 1:6, 1 Corinthians 6:20, all of 1 John especially 1:12.


How great is the love that the Father has lavished on us that we should be called children of God. And that is what we are!

I also love any passage about unity, spiritual gifts, and the body of Christ. The high priestly prayer of Jesus before the cross is very meaningful.

Psalm 18

Psalm 18 NIV
For the director of music. Of David the servant of the LORD. He sang to the LORD the words of this song when the LORD delivered him from the hand of all his enemies and from the hand of Saul. He said:
1 I love you, O LORD, my strength.
2 The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;
my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge.
He is my shield and the horn [a] of my salvation, my stronghold.
3 I call to the LORD, who is worthy of praise,
and I am saved from my enemies.
4 The cords of death entangled me;
the torrents of destruction overwhelmed me.
5 The cords of the grave [b] coiled around me;
the snares of death confronted me.
6 In my distress I called to the LORD;
I cried to my God for help.
From his temple he heard my voice;
my cry came before him, into his ears.
7 The earth trembled and quaked,
and the foundations of the mountains shook;
they trembled because he was angry.
8 Smoke rose from his nostrils;
consuming fire came from his mouth,
burning coals blazed out of it.
9 He parted the heavens and came down;
dark clouds were under his feet.
10 He mounted the cherubim and flew;
he soared on the wings of the wind.
11 He made darkness his covering, his canopy around him—
the dark rain clouds of the sky.
12 Out of the brightness of his presence clouds advanced,
with hailstones and bolts of lightning.
13 The LORD thundered from heaven;
the voice of the Most High resounded. [c]
14 He shot his arrows and scattered the enemies ,
great bolts of lightning and routed them.
15 The valleys of the sea were exposed
and the foundations of the earth laid bare
at your rebuke, O LORD,
at the blast of breath from your nostrils.
16 He reached down from on high and took hold of me;
he drew me out of deep waters.
17 He rescued me from my powerful enemy,
from my foes, who were too strong for me.
18 They confronted me in the day of my disaster,
but the LORD was my support.
19 He brought me out into a spacious place;
he rescued me because he delighted in me.
20 The LORD has dealt with me according to my righteousness;
according to the cleanness of my hands he has rewarded me.
21 For I have kept the ways of the LORD;
I have not done evil by turning from my God.
22 All his laws are before me;
I have not turned away from his decrees.
23 I have been blameless before him
and have kept myself from sin.
24 The LORD has rewarded me according to my righteousness,
according to the cleanness of my hands in his sight.
25 To the faithful you show yourself faithful,
to the blameless you show yourself blameless,
26 to the pure you show yourself pure,
but to the crooked you show yourself shrewd.
27 You save the humble
but bring low those whose eyes are haughty.
28 You, O LORD, keep my lamp burning;
my God turns my darkness into light.
29 With your help I can advance against a troop [d] ;
with my God I can scale a wall.
30 As for God, his way is perfect;
the word of the LORD is flawless.
He is a shield
for all who take refuge in him.
31 For who is God besides the LORD ?
And who is the Rock except our God?
32 It is God who arms me with strength
and makes my way perfect.
33 He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;
he enables me to stand on the heights.
34 He trains my hands for battle;
my arms can bend a bow of bronze.
35 You give me your shield of victory,
and your right hand sustains me;
you stoop down to make me great.
36 You broaden the path beneath me,
so that my ankles do not turn.
37 I pursued my enemies and overtook them;
I did not turn back till they were destroyed.
38 I crushed them so that they could not rise;
they fell beneath my feet.
39 You armed me with strength for battle;
you made my adversaries bow at my feet.
40 You made my enemies turn their backs in flight,
and I destroyed my foes.
41 They cried for help, but there was no one to save them—
to the LORD, but he did not answer.
42 I beat them as fine as dust borne on the wind;
I poured them out like mud in the streets.
43 You have delivered me from the attacks of the people;
you have made me the head of nations;
people I did not know are subject to me.
44 As soon as they hear me, they obey me;
foreigners cringe before me.
45 They all lose heart;
they come trembling from their strongholds.
46 The LORD lives! Praise be to my Rock!
Exalted be God my Savior!
47 He is the God who avenges me,
who subdues nations under me,
48 who saves me from my enemies.
You exalted me above my foes;
from violent men you rescued me.
49 Therefore I will praise you among the nations, O LORD;
I will sing praises to your name.
50 He gives his king great victories;
he shows unfailing kindness to his anointed,
to David and his descendants forever.
Footnotes:
Psalm 18:2 Horn here symbolizes strength.
Psalm 18:5 Hebrew Sheol
Psalm 18:13 Some Hebrew manuscripts and Septuagint (see also 2 Samuel 22:14 most Hebrew manuscripts resounded, / amid hailstones and bolts of lightning
Psalm 18:29 Or can run through a barricade


This psalm that David wrote is so meaningful to me. I've been reading a lot in the psalms throughout my recent illness and a wise person told me to meditate on this psalm. David's enemies might have been more concrete, but I definitely have a real enemy going about like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. In God I find my strength and refuge. I love the part about God drawing David up from deep waters, because sometimes I really feel like I am drowning, and I also appreciate the imagery of God broadening the path for his feet. I now have strength to fight and to stand firm while God fights for me. I am improving day by day, but I don't want to lose the urgency that draws me to God and to Jesus David's descendent and my Lord. Now I am coming into a more spacious place and Jesus is my shepherd who watches over me. God has provided for all my needs and I can't get over how much he loves me. I hope I never forget all he has done for me.

Exciting News

I found out today that I will be discharged after an extra long weekend, lasting until Tuesday evening. Only one more sleep at the hospital!I will be discharged on Wednesday the 23rd, following a family meeting.
The long weekend I will be spending with my adorable nephew, currently in New Jersey, as well as my beautiful sister, also presently in New Jersey, and I will be visiting other relations on Monday and Tuesday.

So I was a little premature, not by much

I've been doing more time, at a different hospital. Rather than analyze this whole situation, I praise God that he is doing the work!

Update on My Life

My beautiful, graceful, gracious Mom is celebrating her birthday today. As she becomes a year older and embarks on the time of year when she is older and wiser than my Dad, I wish her a happy birthday. May blessings overflow in her life.

I am living at home and moving all the things out of my apartment tomorrow. Saying good-bye to the apartment is somewhat saddening, but I will be on the look-out for a more suitable living situation with other people, which will be better for my mental health.

I've been working on Greek and as of Tuesday finally caught up with the rest of the class. I am still doing well in the class, but lack further energy right now to study much this weekend and push on to the end, the day after Easter Monday when I have my exam. Maybe Saturday, and Monday I'll manage to get some work done...

I did get accepted to Calvin Seminary to the Masters of Theological Studies program. However since I was in the hospital when all the applications for scholarships and financial aid needed to be completed, I am not able to go. Also right now, I am sensing a new direction and that God has shut that door.

My Mom has given me an assignment to write down my testimony for the Burning Bush, a Flamborough Christian Fellowship publication. Other than that I need to be looking for meaningful employment, although I do have casual flexible summer work starting in mid April back at Connon Nurseries.

On Monday I will celebrate my grandpa's birthday with him and my grandma. Easter weekend I look forward to celebrating my Oma's 85th birthday with the extended family. I will be coming in my own car, but my sister Linda will be driving! I am very blessed.

I call this time in my life a time of rest. I've been taking many walks and doing a lot of talking with the unfortunate walking companions, cooking supper or making a salad for the family meal, and I just started a crocheting project for my friend Mary-Ann's wedding in October. When I try to do too many things, I feel overwhelmed. But rest is very good.

When I look at what God accomplished through one hospitalization, as far as healing and restoration and destroying fear and hopelessness, I am in awe of him.

Hope in the Hospital

I have been in the hospital since February 16, 2007 following another episode of confused thoughts. It had been a long time and felt a lot different somehow. I am actually very thankful I returned to the hospital as I have been experiencing much healing, facing many old fears, and realizing God is greater than any mental illness. My fellow patients have taught me much and I would love to write some of my experiences and what I have learned through interactions with other patients. I recently met someone who has lived with schizophrenia for most of his adult life, speaks in schools to educate about mental illness, and as an artist dreams of painting a canvas worthy of hanging in heaven. As he spoke about his life, a full and varied one, and his deep faith, I felt a quickening in my spirit, an assurance that despite illness, life with God continues.
I haven't relinquished fully my desire for a medication-free future, but it is no longer connected to any time-table. It is no longer a pressing goal or requirement for contentment in life, although I confess to being very happy to be off my most hated drug. I have a good doctor at the hospital and God has also been at work. I still seek healing and restoration and I feel I am healed in an important sense. Despite emotional turmoil and pain, I feel an underlying peace. I sense that many are praying for me.
Some things left behind in the journey include my desire for an academic career as a professor and my plans to attend Calvin Seminary in the fall. I also have danced in my hospital room and left John Calvin in the sixteenth century. I look forward to a lively conversation about predestination in heaven with him, but it is no longer a pressing topic for debate on earth. Maybe some day I will actually read his Institutes, but maybe not. I'd rather not be a formal theologian, and I realize being a professor may not be a calling which would give me real fulfillment or satisfaction. My passion for the Scriptures remains and I will be attempting to complete my Greek course. However I am feeling a tug towards Bible translation rather than a masters degree in Theological Studies.
Right now I am trying not to race on ahead of God, but to stay here in this moment, to slowly reenter my life. I'll be staying with my parents for a time and searching for a job and new living situation. My contract for my clerical office job was to expire mid-March, so I won't be returning to that job. Ofcourse I have no idea what may happen in the remainder of my life, but I'll be patient to see how it unfolds. My ambitions may return in some altered form and my dreams remain, and God's amazing faithfulness and abundant grace continues.

Procrastination and Me

The beauty (and horror) of procrastination lies in the fact that an onerous task or project, if delayed long enough, will no longer be possible to complete, at least with any reasonable hope of success. With rationalization and excuses as my close companions, I continually deferred the work necessary to prepare for graduate school to some later time. While I achieved an A+ in my first course in introductory Greek, I give myself a D for my lacklustre efforts in planning school for next year. As a student, I generally succeeded in the battle against procrastination, at least in the realm of academics. But as I consider my poor performance in this area, I am gaining new insight into myself.
Why is it that I have always had an easier time accepting Jesus' words "Without me you can do nothing", than appropriating Paul's assertion "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me"? Why is it I can be relatively content in repetitive, mind-numbing work, and fear any venture into the unknown? Can it be I really did not want to succeed in my efforts at planning and applications, and really I wanted to try and ultimately fail, proving to myself that this endeavour was not for me? Because I am afraid, afraid of the unknown, afraid of failure, afraid that I don't have what it takes. I am afraid of being far from home, afraid of illness, of debt, and ultimate futility. I am afraid that I can't even succeed at what God is calling me to in my life, whatever that may be.
At one point in my life, I began to narrow the area where I demanded competency and excellence from myself. Many things I haven't even attempted to do. My mother was frustrated at my attempts to prove that I could not sew a button onto my pants. But I see this as a picture of the many skills I have decided I can't master. My area where I demanded mastery, competence, and excellence was the realm of academic achievement, but other endeavours, for example, in the realm of friendships and social life, I accepted, even expected, failure. In all honesty, I can understand the servant in the parable who buried his talent in the ground.
I need to find out what God is calling me to do with the gifts and interests he has given to me, my area of service and my specific vocation (which may or may not be connected to a specific career). I need to realize that I can do whatever God has called me to, the "all things" Paul speaks of, and I can succeed at many other life skills as well. I need to replace my fears with faith and confidence in Christ who strengthens me, and I need to work hard at any true vision God gives me for my life. I need to realize the true failure is not trying, is burying the gold talent deep in the ground, of living a life of safe and shallow selfishness. And with all this emphasis on doing, maybe I need to balance that with a realization of being, my identity in Christ as a child of God, who I am created and redeemed to be.

Meeting My Nephew Owen

Here is a picture of me with my nephew Owen who I met for the first time last week. I just took it from my sister's blog where there are more pictures of this adorable child with his many doting relatives, but I wanted something on my blog to commemorate the joy of meeting Owen. Owen is the little son of my sister Karen and brother-in-law Clint, a definite answer to prayer. He was born on October 17, 2006, so he is nearly three months old. The first time I held Owen, he screamed in protest and I couldn't calm him, but later I got to hold him when he was content and smiling. He has the sweetest smile, so big and all gums. I especially liked to see him smile at my sister and calm right down in her arms. He is happiest after his feeding and unhappiest when he is tired or when held or passed in a way he doesn't like. Owen is now on his way to Ottawa on the train with his parents and then will be returning to Saskatchewan Tuesday on a four hour flight that will first go to Calgary. Prayers for the flight home would be appreciated as Owen generally needs a car seat or a bed to sleep and doesn't sleep in people's arms very often. The time with Owen was too brief and I hope I can visit Saskatchewan sometime before he starts walking. It was so good to see Karen and Clint again, but seeing Owen was extra special.

My Education in Hindsight

My friend laughed at me recently when I told her that while I had appreciated the book she had lent to me and been moved to tears numerous times and had recognized the profundity of the truths so clearly laid out, I had resisted the way they were quoting Scriptures without references to original context. I explained that there were several steps to take before applying the passage to women in the church today, since the passage was using feminine imagery to speak of the nation of Israel. "Yes, she said, "But what is said of Israel applies to the church today and so to women in the church." I insisted that the original context and these steps in between should be acknowledged by the authors, as responsible biblical interpretation. I could make the leap, I knew the original context and the steps in between (moving from Israel to the church to women today) but what about other readers? I still think this is a valid point, although it would have interrupted the flow of the argument quite a bit and diminished the beauty of the book. But I got to thinking that along with the knowledge I gleaned from my professors, I also picked up quite a few prejudices. Some of them may be more like convictions, but others are definite prejudices. I picked them up because I respect my professors and their opinions. From my upper level seminar course in Christian worship, taught by a long-time Doctor in Music, I picked up a complete aversion and disgust with the name for God Jehovah. He explained that this was an ignorant translation from the Hebrew name YHWH (written ofcourse in Hebrew characters without vowels). This name was not even pronounced by the Jews, it was so sacred and holy. So this name was badly phonetically mangled with vowels placed in and became the name Jehovah. Now any song, whether contemporary or an old version of a hymn, that uses the name Jehovah, sets my teeth on edge, even if I like the other words or messages in the song.
A short list of some other prejudices (or perhaps convictions, as some may be valid) some gleaned from my Church History classes and others from my Philosophy of Religion course include:
1) A firm belief that the national anthem should not be sung in a church service unless it follows the benediction, hence technically not being in the service.
2) A belief Canada's, the United State's, and/or Israel's flag should not be in a church sanctuary. A grudging permission for the nations of the world's flags to be all displayed.
3) A sense of anger at the sight of Canada's flag drapped over the cross, all but obscuring the religious symbol. A vague feeling these symbols should not mix.
4) A belief that baptism should only happen once. I have since let this one go a little. Most in my immediate family have been rebaptized. When pressured by a pastor as a young adult, I refused on the principle that my baptism as an infant was equally valid, I had professed my faith already, and no other baptism was needed.
5) A sense that worship, if not completely orderly, should at least be dignified. I guess I wouldn't get along with King David too well.

I recognize that most of these are minor things, not worth getting upset over and really it would be better to not let these things annoy me, particularly if it hinders my unity with other brothers and sisters in Christ. None of them are things I would nail on a church door to demand reformation. What is important is a heart of worship, to worship in spirit and in truth, and this can be done in a sanctuary with a flag of Canada or the US in it as well as in a church bare of national symbols.

One belief, held by some of my professors, that women should not be ordained, I never did pick up. Some may call it rebellion, which is probably one of the reasons I said as a young girl that I would some day like to be a pastor (an ordained one). (This was not then possible in my denomination, hence its attraction.) Now I think a lot of it is simply respect for some women who I know through personal connections or by books or magazines I've read or speakers I've heard, who personally feel a call to pastoral or preaching ministry. Anne Graham Lotz at a conference I recently attended something like that if people have a problem with a women (in preaching or pastoral role or spiritual leadership role), then they need to take it up with Jesus, because he called them. At university I did a paper on the difficult passage in II Timothy, often cited as evidence of a universal prohibitation against women teaching or having authority over a man in the church. At the time I concluded that I hadn't found compelling evidence in the sources I had come across that the passage could be responsibly interpreted in a way to support my rather faint belief that some women are called to spiritual authority in a church along with men, though all Christians are called to both submission to the spiritual authorities God has placed over them and to mutual submission as believers. In my mind, the spiritual headship of a husband, clearly taught in the Bible, was distinct from the relationship of men and women in the church; that is simply because a person was male he was not qualified to command and control a woman in the church; he needed to be in a position of authority himself and that authority should never be exercised in a domineering way regardless of anyone's gender. My friend recently wrote a paper on the same topic, and found different, more scholarly and convincing sources, and came to the conclusion that this could be responsibly and faithfully argued.

I also lost some prejudices, most notably my sense of outrage at the apostle Paul who I was convinced was a sexist apostle, rather full of himself even. I based this on three passages in particular that angered me. I guess they angered me more because of how they have been used and interpreted by others. My Church History and History of Eastern Orthodoxy courses took away a lot of my prejudices, opened my eyes to the beauty of other traditions and the wisdom of the Church Fathers, and instilled in me a passion for ecumenicalism and unity among brothers and sisters in Christ from all traditions and varieties holding to the essential creeds we share. Thanks to my church history professor, I started distrusting the NIV slightly, though I have always enjoyed its beautiful cadences and clear translation, and have since decided that in some cases the translators were hindered by evangelical or male prejudice that coloured their translation. In fact any translation must necessarily be an interpretation as well, because often the ambiguity that may be in the Greek cannot remain in the English translation.

She imagined serving tea to her friend in her tidy, cozy apartment with carefully swept floor and gleaming countertop. She would offer her friend a small square served on an elegant plate, laugh brightly and speak companionably, sharing her recent insights and offering a listening ear.

Now her friend sat across from her in an apartment reflecting the disorder of her own mind. Articles of clothing were strewn about and a small, pathetic assortment of unwrapped presents scattered on her couch. The kitchen countertop was cluttered with dishes and the table top was scattered with papers. She poured the tea shakily and then she told her friend painful, secret things, things she hadn't even admitted to herself. She wept and was ashamed, but she knew that this was herself as she truly was, the real person, more than the brave face she showed to the rest of the world.
And she knew that she was broken, and that she needed God. Suddenly she saw she had spoken about the will of God, more than she had sought it. That she had spoken about God, more than she had spoken to him. And that perhaps she had more in common with Job's friends than she had ever suspected. And she saw that she had searched for a dream, something big that everyone could recognize as great, some grand purpose that could swallow up all her pain. She saw she had misinterpreted, missed the mark, that she had wanted some guarantee from God of a bright, shining future. She realized this desire was the opposite of faith. She realized now what God did promise, and what he did not promise. She saw she needed to serve God now, not after he met her demands, that she needed to worship him even if healing never came in the way she wanted. She saw she needed to entrust him with her life, to offer him her wounded heart.
And in the midst of the overthrow of pretensions and the laying bare, in the turmoil of the collapse of her carefully contructed cardboard castles, she knew one thing could not be shaken, but stood firm. And this knowledge was enough. She knew God had never changed, and that he loved her as she was now. And as the lies, false assumptions, and half truths fled, the truth gradually came flooding in. By looking back she could see the choices she had made, the sin that had enslaved her. And she knew how it had happened, how her life had hovered on the brink of destruction. She saw the strategy that had kept her in bondage so long, a willing prisoner to fear and anger, sin and shame; she saw the wasted years of her life, when she hadn't lived at all, when she had been a shell of who she was created to be. And she knew that the truth would set her free, that she was forgiven and that beyond this bleak winter was the promise of a new spring when her fragile hope would again blossom and her shattered strength be renewed.

On Growth

It's almost been a month since I last posted. How I feel about this blog really has changed and I am much more self-conscious. I didn't even post anything and then delete it as I so often do, although I did have a couple of ideas for entries. I have been kind of busy with Greek and an application to graduate school. My definition of busyness is probably different from many other people and I tend to focus on just one thing at a time, instead of keeping many balls in the air.

Usually growth is so gradual that it is barely perceptible and regular measuring on a growth chart is the only way to notice the change. Looking back over the past year, I think I have grown in many ways, not always for the reasons I expected. My 40 days of purpose this summer and fall were more a meandering sixty day journey, rather unfocused and after the first fourteen days completely undocumented. The Alpha course I took this fall caused me to grow in ways I didn't expect. I thought a basic course in Christianity wouldn't teach me anything new, but the video presentations by Nicky Gumbel and the fellowship and sharing with people all at different points in their spiritual journey were both absolutely phenomenonal. I am sure with all that great food on Monday nights, I must have grown in other, less welcome, ways. A highlight for me was the Holy Spirit weekend, the weekend before Reformation day, which I spent at St. Thomas the Apostle, a Catholic church where I sensed the unity Christ prayed that we would have and learned from believers of another Christian tradition, as well experienced and learned about the Holy Spirit. We were together with another Alpha group, the first at St. Thomas the Apostle, lead by a woman who had attended Alpha at Immanuel the previous year and whose husband was in our group. I am so sad Alpha is now done, but another group A Life Worth Living will be starting up. I also enjoy the fellowship of my small group but we haven't met as often this year as I would like.
A couple of months ago I was so sure I was going to get another encouraging, uplifting message at a special service, something that would confirm the direction I am taking. I had a life-altering affirmation a year previous by someone who was visiting my parent's church from Elim Ministries. However I was disappointed this time to hear a message that was not relevant for my current life. It made me think about where I am getting my direction from, and I realized I need to seek guidance from God. God has promised to guide those who ask him for wisdom, and Christ has sent the Holy Spirit, so while another person may confirm my direction if that is in God's plan, I need to hear from God myself and follow the Spirit's leading. So now I wait and make plans, but I trust God to direct my steps.
I have been reading through the Message paraphrase of the Bible, which can be very jarring to read after years of solely reading the New International Version. The references to things anarchonistic to biblical times were particularly jarring, but I did really think about what the Bible was saying. The Bible reading plan I choose had its positive things and its pitfalls, and now I am nearly done, I think I will be reading through the Bible more slowly to get out morsels I couldn't really take the time to chew this past year, because I was rushing through the readings. I love God's Word so much and the difficult passages only make it more fascinating, although I never am excited to read Leviticus, and Jeremiah and Ezekiel and even Isaiah seem so long when you are trying to get through them. Reading Hebrews helps to understand Leviticus and sometimes a passage will leap out at you in the prophets and you wonder how you could have missed it.
This time last year I certainly wouldn't have expected I would now be living on my own for the past three months, taking a class in New Testament Greek and contemplating grad school for next year. I do see the hand of God and provision of God in this and I think this living on my own has been a maturing process. I see many more areas for growth, I'd like to display the fruits of the Spirit all the time, even in traffic, to live less by emotion and more by faith and obedience, to be more focused on God and others and less on myself, and I really need to learn how to speak wisely and be silent when necessary. I am growing in the gift of using words to encourage and to express and to speak of truth, but I think I need to examine the proverbs about the tongue. Sometimes you need to speak, but sometimes it is wiser to remain silent. At least your own foolishness will not be as readily apparent.
When God told Abraham to leave his people and go to a distant country, he obeyed and he didn't even really know where he was going. I don't think I would be like that at all, I'd want a road map and a detailed intinerary, and first I would wonder if it really was God speaking to me and who he really was. I think I'd need a few signs, perhaps a fleece-like test like Gideon was granted or the more impressive shadows moving back steps like Hezekiah was given. Abram was told he would be the father of a great nation, but he was old, his wife was barren and past the age of childbearing anyways, and he had not one child. Abraham believed God and he even was willing to give up his own son, the child of promise who came years of soujourning later, and in obedience he was about to sacrifice him, confident God could raise him to life if necessary. The apostle Paul said believers in Christ are children of Abraham and heirs to the promise God gave him. What great faith and how little Abraham had to go on, compared to believers today.

On Surrender

Then Jesus said, "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light."

I came to church very burdened and very hurt. I didn't want to be there and I felt I couldn't praise God. As I sat there I was reminded of how Jesus has set me free, in order to live, how he has made me right with God through his death. Then a wise person reminded me of these words of Jesus. I need to give my burden to him, to surrender what is eating away at me to him. He will give me rest. Sometimes you come to a place where there is nothing you can do, nothing you can say that will help, though it may cause further hurt or pain or division. I was reminded that God is in control, that I can give this situation to him and that I don't have to be burdened or weighed down anymore. Ultimately he will bring healing, redemption, reconciliation, true forgiveness, and he will reveal the truth, not the limited one I know, but his truth.
When I praise him for who he is, what he has done, and what he is doing, the worries and concerns and day to day struggles can fall to the side. Christ is the judge, it is not I, and he is the Truth. I can trust my Father, because he knows what is best for his children. Realizing there is nothing I can do with this mess I am a part of, helps me surrender everything in my life to God. There is so much in my life that needs to change and the Holy Spirit will help me, Jesus will teach me, and his burden, which I take to mean the burden to share his good news with others, is light, not like the burden that I took upon myself. May my words not hurt, not cause division or pain, not build walls, not set me in place as judge. May I be silent when I shouldn't speak, may I live what I confess, and may God's message shine through and may he be glorified.

The Greek Chorus
by Jo-Ann Badley
[with thanks to Jo-Ann Badley and apologies to the late Dr. Seuss]
I do not wish to study Greek
I do not want to be a Geek.
Would you study in your room?
And there prepare to meet your doom?
Would you study at a table?
Would you, could you, were you able?
Would you study on the train?
There, perchance, to strain your brain?
Would you, could you, on term break?
Do it for the gospel's sake?
I will not do it on term break
Not even for the gospel's sake;
I do not like to memorize:
Those funny letters hurt my eyes.
Not in a train, not with my brain,
Not at a table, though I'm able,
Not in my room to meet my doom:
Not here or there or anywhere...
I do not wish to study Greek
I do not want to be a Geek.
Take Greek this term without apology,
Drop anthro- theo- missiology!
Switch to Greek from other classes
It matters not if no-one passes...
Perhaps for you, but not for me:
Greek isn't practical, you see,
I'd rather learn to fix transmissions
I'm a candidate for missions.
Would you take in the summer?
Six weeks of verbs won't make you dumber
You might like the paradigms:
Repeat those lists five thousand times.
I would not, could not, in the summer
For six whole weeks a real bummer!
I will not study Greek at all
Not in summer, not in fall.
Greek is really for the birds
Greek is really just for nerds
I do not wish to study Greek
I do not want to be a Geek.
You do not like it, so you say
Try it, try it, and you may
Try it and you may, I say:
lego, legeis, and legei...
lego, legeis... now I've got it
Whatever it means, I needn't stop it.
This learning Greek is so much fun
A few more weeks and I'll be done.
Now I'll learn those paradigms,
Repeat vocab a million times.
In the summer, in the fall,
I'll do it any time at all.
I'll swap my Greek for other classes,
I won't mind if no one passes.
I will study in a tree,
Now I know that Greek's for me:
I will do a Ph.D.
I will study on term break;
Greek will be a piece of cake.
I will study on a train,
Let conjugations fill my brain.
I will study at a table;
Learn the aorist since I'm able.
I will study in my room,
Morning, night, and afternoon.
I will study here and there:
I will study anywhere!
I do so love to study Greek:
I really want to be a Geek.


My New Testament Greek professor had this poem read in our class and then emailed it to us. This poem is supposed to have Greek letters for "lego, legeis, legei" but those won't publish in blogger.
I love learning Greek; I just hope I can keep it up long enough for it to remain with me and not disappear as French did after highschool. I hope I can use it in biblical scholarship in an academic setting, but even just learning the original language of the New Testament is a valuable thing. I will get a copy of the Greek New Testament next semester from the Bible Society. The second year of Greek is exegesis. And then there is Hebrew, which I really want to learn too, so I can read the Old Testament in its original language. Not everyone understands my attraction to taking this class or recognizes the value of reading the New Testament in its original language, but it is fascinating to me and it will be essential if I am going to be a biblical scholar in post-graduate studies. Ofcourse I am only starting to learn it, but so far it is going well. Too bad I never took it at Redeemer where I studied English and Religion. My brother took it as an elective.

Withdrawal Symptoms (from Friends)

"I was feeling lazy," she said, moseying up to the sink, rinsing the stale water from the dishes, "so I made spaghetti pie. Remember when Mom used to make that? Of course, I didn't use cottage cheese."

"Sisterly solidarity," she said, laughing a little, lilting-like, with her head, tilting-like, going up to kiss the ceiling, "My spinach has been past the due date for a week now, and I'm still eating it."

"Oh, I started sliding a little today--in the rain," she said, sighing, like golden leaves would sigh if they did, "I think I need new tires. Someone said I should just change my front tires with my back tires. Of course, I wouldn't really know how to do that. And when I changed the back ones, the whole front might just roll away."

"She bought her wedding dress," she said, pausing, thoughtfully, with the dish towel limp in her hand. "She described it to me; but you know how sometimes you just can't see it in your mind--what it is that they're describing? I'll have to see it sometime, though."

"Mm hm," I said, typing furiously.

reed elamef a

the thing was so softly spoken,

i couldn't hear--quite,

couldn't make out--quite,

what it was he was saying, what it was

that he so much wanted me to hear

in the grey room with the phone curled, nestled

and sweaty between my ear and shoulder

and we breathing apart, so tired of the voices and stories that we only whispered things,

soft things,

that couldn't really be heard, or even

proven to exist

exegesis

She would walk around, stepping lightly from tile to tile. And she knew she stepped only once on each ceramic plate, because she was always looking down. And this didn't have to be a negative thing, necessarily. It was only when one looked down that one could see foundations of people, feet, and the twisting of the earth, how it grew from the depths upwards and exploded in green things, and buds. She knew this. She liked to look at carpet, too. Carpet could be lush, and purple, or it could be worn, and where there had been uniformity, there were now patches of stark fibres, because no one had tread this part. One could tell a lot about a person by her feet, or his carpet. She knew this. Sometimes it her hurt her eyes to look upward too directly. Sometimes the sky was too blue, and the flames were too orange, and she would blink, startled, and look down again.

thursday night at suzanne's apartment

A small grey turtle on a gnarled log.
Spiked coffee.
I feel...
Awakened.
Then, the macadamia nut cookie cometh.
Minks are mean.
Now...
Let's go bowling.

A Journey of (a metaphorical) 40 Days

In late August I began a rereading of "A Purpose Driven Life". The plan was that I would take the next forty days to read, reflect, and journal the insights I gained and steps I should take. I started off well, reading each section on the appointed day and journaling almost daily. However soon I was writing once a week and then not at all, and finally I wasn't even reading daily. The Forty Days of Purpose stretched into a sixty-five day period that was not entirely purposeful. This time around I learned much and was challenged with ways my life and focus has to change. From the first reading on "it's not about me" (I don't think that insight has fully sunk in yet), I was challenged about purposeful living working out in practical ways of service and obedience.

Sometimes I felt discouraged and doubted I would ever be a world class Christian such as Rick Warren describes or even someone who would share my faith with those who do not know Christ, but I realized that a journey takes time and growth takes time. I am not naturally a servant and I am naturally very self-absorbed so I think it will take some time to grow in these areas. I trust that God will work in me as I work out my faith.

At the same time I was taking an Alpha course and a couple weeks ago spent a wonderful weekend at a Catholic church learning about the Holy Spirit. Our Alpha group combined with another Alpha group and it was wonderful to experience the unity of brothers and sisters in Christ, learning from one another. I am very passionate about ecumenicalism and I love it when different church traditions and denominations can come together in unity, focusing on the essential matters that we have in common. I want to recognize my brothers and sisters in Christ from whatever denomination or tradition.

I'm an aunt!

I have been an aunt for more than twelve hours already. Owen Nicholas Langelaar was born a little after 8 am today. Mother Karen and baby Owen are both doing well. Clint sounded very happy on the message I got after I arrived home from work. Owen weighed 6 pounds and 5 ounces. That's all the detail I know. My Mom is now an Oma, since my Dad really wanted to be called Opa. My sisters have voluntarily taken on the title of Tante Rachel and Christina, but I think I'll just be known as Aunt Suzanne, although I doubt Owen will be able to pronounce my name correctly for quite some time. None of my younger siblings ever got it right. I was Zan and San, when they started talking. I am curious if Owen has reddish blond hair or not, like Karen did when she was born. I suppose I will see pictures posted on their blog within a few days. I will see Owen in person in January, when Karen and Clint are coming to Ontario for a visit.