status quo

 i saw a comment on an article about the abortion debate (i know, i know... i should never read the comments on the internet...) & it stated what i've seen *so* many comments state regarding the reopening of the abortion debate in Canada.  It suggested that most Canadians are moderates - and all those extremist, "anti-choicers" who would like to see abortion in Canada come to an end are never going to get what they want - so why bother debating it at all. 
Leave it as it is. 
The majority of Canadians are happy with the status quo. 
The thing that i don't think these commenters realize (& certainly not those who would label themselves, "moderates") - is that Canada's stance on abortion is anything but moderate.  We have the most extreme stance on abortion of any other developed country in the world - we're on par with North Korea and China in that we have *no abortion legislation*.  Canadians as a whole would like to see some legislation on abortion & i suspect that if more Canadians knew the truth about abortion in Canada the numbers would be even higher in favour of public debate and legislation.  (For more information, see We Need A Law HERE.)
Just because it has been the status quo since 1988 doesn't make it ok.  Just because the government refuses to debate it doesn't mean that a majority of Canadians are ok with it.  Just because a handful of extremists on the other side are happy with abortion being legal and tax funded at any stage of pregnancy for any reason... doesn't mean that the rest of Canada should be going along with them without resistance or debate. 
Sometimes i think we hate discomfort so much - that we'll do anything to continue with the status quo - even when our situation reeks of injustice.  i get that.  Change is uncomfortable.  We would be forced to reach in, to dig deep, to speak love into horrible, difficult situations. 
Oh, Jesus... do we have the courage to be Your hands and feet?
Certainly - to some it might seem preferable to turn our heads, avert our eyes and mutter, "Do whatever you want" - to the woman in crisis who is heading into the abortion clinic. 
But we can do better...
Can't we? 
Our children deserve a better Canada than this...
Don't they?

May 22, 2012

k, guys... there's something really big in the works for prolife in Canada.  There's a teaser clip on YouTube that's going around.  It has been shared on LifeSite news, (see their post HERE) and it's gathering steam in prolife circles everywhere.  May 22nd is right around the corner - i'm curious to see what it is.  They say on the clip, "It once signalled the coming of a great injustice.  Now it will make the invisible victims visible."
i'm going to be watching closely on May 22nd - and cheer for this new project that promises to rock the abortion debate forever.  Join the movement and repost!

adding colour

And the word of the Lord came again to Zechariah: This is what the Lord Almighty said: 'Administer true justice; show mercy and compassion to one another.  Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the alien or the poor.  In your hearts do not think evil of each other.'
Zechariah 7:8-10
& yeh... seems simple doesn't it?  But it's not always... 
i said to a friend the other day that i used to see so much in black and white... but the older i get, i have begun to see the world more in shades of loving or unloving.  & it adds so much complexity to any situation.  Yeh, there's right & wrong - but i have to be intentional in choosing my response to both.

sweet 16

i want to write about Neil.
We're tip-toeing over the edge of our 16th wedding anniversary - & he's been on my mind a lot.  i tried to put it into words... into his ears the other morning... what his love - and our marriage have meant to me. 
But at this point - 16 years in - i still feel like a baby in this game - & my thoughts came out all jumbled & confused - & so he just held me, like he so often has to do these days when words come hard fought and the tenderness of touch makes communication so much easier...
i feel like my marriage to Neil has been a softness:
i love that man.  i love him with a complete and utter vulnerability.  It especially feels vulnerable when i watch marriages crumble around me, or hear vicious whispers from all sorts of dark corners that have become unsafe.  Our love has flashed colour and texture like an old quilt drying on the laundry line - caught in the breeze... Symbolic of warmth and comfort and home - but bringing a strange beauty to the outdoor elements as it billows and rolls in the wind.
i feel like my marriage to Neil has been a hardness:
i have learned to love that man from a distance - as his work has taken him away from me.  He's a travelling man - & that aching and yearning for him has become a familiar flavour in my mouth - rather than just fading away into ambivalence.  i learned to get stronger (often failing miserably many times before i get there), to drive the big beast of our van at night or in snowstorms.  i learned to run the house without him here - to laugh louder when i miss the timbre of his voice, and to brazenly spout honestly to my littles whenever i feel that i must, "i miss daddy."  (And in return, they've learned to roll their eyes and smile indulgently, "Really, mom?  You've never said so before...")
But mostly... i feel like my marriage to Neil has been a stretching:
i see a picture in my mind of a limber set of dancers dancing the most exquisite stretching steps - the give and the take, the wide swooping gestures, the dip - without dropping and the chase before the catch - the breathtaking arc flown - and the exhilaration that trumps exhaustion... & no... i'm not a dancer... but my heart soars when i see some dancers dance; so urgently, so passionately & so vulnerably. & that's how we dance, Neil & i... in these sweet, beautiful years we find ourselves in.  He calls me on things that i need to be called on.  & i do the same.  He doesn't shame me, but he makes me think of the areas of my life where i indulge myself with thoughtlessness.  God has seen fit to choose to use Neil - singly - to bring about the hardest changes in my character, and to allow me to see truth a little more readily, vividly and peacefully.  This beautiful stretching eclipses both the hardness & the softness - epitomizing the heart of what marriage means. 
So... here's the nerdy part.  i hate reading the endless posts from adoring wives in sappy anniversary prose, & i apologize to my future self reading this saying, "really, Paige?  You couldn't hold yourself back??"  but... it has never been more true than it is right now... & yes, self... i must.  So here it is. 
Bess... i love you more now than i did when we said our, 'i do's' with out backs up against the world & bitter fools speaking discouragement into our fresh new union.  i love you more now than when you fed me fried chicken and listened to Gwen Stefani when my grief was too much for either of us to bear.  i love you more now than i did when you cut that silly cartoon out of the newspaper that signaled that maybe one day, we'd have more than five children.  i love you more now than i did when you brokenly said you were sorry my parents were getting a divorce... & you knew that i was so very, very sorry too. 
i choose you - again & again & again.  i choose you with your work flying you away, with your grey creeping in & with nay-sayers who have nothing better to do than to imagine the strikes we have against us. 
i wasn't engineered to be the kind of girl who's able to hold anything back. 
So i won't. 
Yours. 
p

a little lovin'

i felt like writing, so i did. 
My fingers flew over the keyboard, unrestrained... a thing they haven't done as much this past year... & i will post it... a seemingly fluff post... a love note, a bellowing moment of adoration for marriage. 
But before i do... i'll post this, a gentle opener before the bullhorn:

Neil & i sneak into the seniors home to peek at our girl playing violin.  She stands taller than me in her flats & pleated tartan skirt.  She pulls her hair back and ties it with a ribbon and her sweet softy smile flashes from the stage as she finds me grinning back at her; her toe taps & her hips sway. 
Neil sinks into a plush arm chair out of her sight, & i let my gaze meander around the cheerful little room full of wheelchairs, walkers, oxygen tanks and grey hair. 
One tiny woman catches my eye - and i watch her smiling at the children who are performing with verve and skill. 
Then she wrings her bent little hands. 
They're twisted with arthritis; massive swollen bones with hardly any flesh to pad them.  Her dainty blue veins colour them as she gently rubs one with the other, and then her fingers grope in familiarity the thin gold bands that adorn her left hand. 
As she does so, my fingers suddenly fly to find my golden bands; circling the same finger on my left hand. 
& i don't know her story.  i don't know where the man is who placed those rings there, or how many years ago the vows were spoken...
But i know that in 16 years, my rings have worn away the flesh around my ring finger - the symbol that i wear of the commitment i made has made a mark on my physical body.  My body has worn, and the stretch marks on my stomach bear witness to the family that we've grown...
Her gesture is hardly one to be noticed - but i do notice... the way her fingers linger on rings that are so worn, the gold has thinned to threadlike proportions in some places.  i watch as she tenderly twists the bands that i imagine have been there for decades - i doubt they could be removed now... even if she wanted to remove them over joints bent with arthritis and age...
And i glance at Neil - catching his dancing hazel eyes & he grins at me.  His smile still makes my stomach flip flop - & as i twist my ring, i can't help but hope that one day - when we're old... and our hands are creased and worn and tired - we'll still wear our gold bands - & in familiarity, we'll reach for, find and caress the aching hands of the one we love.