5 minute Friday - Writer

Sloan is participating in 5 minute Fridays, hosted by Lisa-Jo Baker, so I decided to join her today. 5 minutes is just a teeny tiny snippet of time.  Today's word was *writer*.

***go***

i never thought of myself as a "real" writer.

i had a blog and i loved the idea of capturing - like a photograph of words - parts of my life, their childhoods, our marriage. 

But then one day, i decided i wanted to write a book. i wanted to capture - for my little ones, and their little ones - some of my thoughts on prolife. And so, i stumblingly found a story line that i could use as a vehicle for these ideas, (borrowed generously from my life and anything, everything i could see around me) - and i started to write. Shoving those words aboard, creating space for ideas, for story, for characters that i want to remember from my real life, melted together and poured into new molds. 

Just a little book came out of this exercise. 

It's not fancy - it's self published, and is so sparingly edited that there remain typos and errors that i'll not likely ever go back to change. i sold a few copies and i still have a couple on my shelf... 

But i have them - those thousands of words bent and sprinkled and sometimes forced and awkward - on pages of paper that represent my heart for life - for the unborn and the born - for the dying, the unwanted, the unplanned. 

And i'm shy of it's lack of greatness. It makes me feel a little odd to put out there something that has probably been said in a million (better) ways. My book is a pretty humble little offering - created out of time stolen from dishes and laundry - from a woman who was (and remains) a sleep deprived stay at home mama, wife to a travelling man. 

It's not amazing or great. 

But it's written... 

So, this morning, when i saw the word was "writer"- honestly? i felt a little shame, thinking of that little blue, self-published book.... 

But what silly pride to let my own smallness take away my voice. 

Me? 

i'm a writer.

***stop***

unbloggable

i read a blogpost that someone had posted to facebook about it being harder (impossible) to blog the teen years as intensely as you can blog the baby/toddler years. That comforts me a bit as these last couple of years have seen a lot more quiet in this place that has brought me so much joy over my journey through motherhood.
It's true that circumstances are sometimes completely unbloggable... sometimes unsharable or unspeakable. That's when you just exhale - surrender - and trust that He is shaping you in the midst of the desert time.

That said, every so often, I realize that I do want to raise my hand in the crowded room and offer a small piece to record here - as my children seem to grow before my eyes and time mercilessly marches ever forward... So here's a small breath of praise to the One who continues to draw me "further up and further in!"*

At the beginning of this year, I kept seeing people post their "word for the year" - and I searched my mind and heart for a word that might fit for me to meditate on and grow from, but instead of a word, there were two phrases that have kept coming back to me these first two months into 2014.
The first is that I am learning to see the value, less in 'trying harder' and more in surrendering.
It has been spoken aloud in a million different ways - almost on a daily basis as I've been listening for His still small voice in conversations with other believers, in my bible reading, in my quiet time with Him. Surrender is a whole different ache than "trying hard". And I've loved the picture that He has given me - that surrender makes it His - and He will faithfully take, and make beautiful, what no amount of my own effort ever could...
i guess an example of this type of surrender would be in the area of self control. i know sometimes my little ones will have a burst of fury and as i try to talk them down, "Chill out, relax...", i get the standard indignant response, "I'm TRYING!!"
What a funny little twist in our own thinking to think of surrendering our fury, our sadness, our broken relationships, our lack of self control - instead of constantly "trying harder..."  I've had to laugh at myself too as I'm the queen of over thinking - and sometimes i find myself, "trying harder to surrender..." That's when I've missed the point  - and i need to take a step back and take my mind out of the situation completely...
The second is more of an image - another trading of one thing for something better - but it's the daily decision to (by the miracle of grace) trade my heart of stone for a heart of flesh. **
What a scary decision that can seem to be when flesh seems so vulnerably unprotected; we experience flesh's suffering rather than a stone's coldness, tenderness rather than hardness, painful growth rather than deadness... It's His precious gift to me - to strip away my stony humanness - and give me a gift of a heart that beats for Him.
And I think that these two ideas are connected for me. I've run up against so many situations that are out of my control - He's allowing me to see, that I can try and try and try... until I'm exhausted and spent - but if I could just surrender - it might be painful, but through surrender, He'll take me places i could never get to on my own. A heart of flesh that is living and beating can do things that a dead heart could never do. A heart of stone can't soften itself, it can't warm itself, it can't make itself come alive...
But through surrender, the stone can be made flesh - all things are possible.

* a little Narnia love... ;)
** check out Spurgeon's sermon The Stony Heart Removed.

29 & 30 - & a blogging confession

29 weeks

*a delayed post... i'm trying to push past my blip of self-consciousness in posting - and remember that this blog was created - not to capture each moment perfectly - but instead to remember the essence of what made these years so deliciously incredible.


(March 23rd) - i'll be 29 weeks tomorrow... My little one grows and kicks in my womb - and as i rub gently the piece of my own flesh that covers the tiny foot of another human being that just made an appearance on my ever expanding abdomen, i finally figure out why my mind has been so scattered lately.
i've been forgetful like i haven't been in years... So many plates spinning these days - and so many days spinning them without daddy.
Don't get me wrong, it has been good. (Minus a good week-long stretch where we got sick and i cried in bed because i thought that maybe i would be sick for the rest of my pregnancy and, Oh, God, how would i ever do this?)
But now i'm well - and strong - and i can laugh at my hormonal tears and defeatist attitude.
My mind is pulled in so many different directions these days: the dark eyed boy who writes sweet texts to my oldest daughter - and she who reciprocates, my middlies who are struggling with spelling despite the fact that i've made it a priority, my little boy whose runny nose keeps coming back, my tiny one growing in what feels sometimes like an ancient womb... (i get why Sarah laughed...) My mom - who i miss - and don't get to hear from enough, my sisters who are also navigating strangeness, my dad who is most often on the road, Good Friday - all that it means, all that i hope for, all that He is, my husband - and the peace that he unknowingly brings every time he comes home... there are only so many trails that my brain can follow before it just gives up...

And do you know where it goes?

It goes to the tiny one who is slowing me down. This little babe of mine reminds me with my own diminished abilities - that i am human... there is only so much i can do. He illustrates my weakness as 5 minutes of cleaning is inevitably followed by a 10 minute rest. He ignites my wonder as i feel him kick and grow inside of me and i could weep with the knowledge that his little life was ordained by a Holy God - for purposes beyond my imagination.
And i'm grateful.
i'm grateful for the scattered thoughts, for the rabbit trails my mind can't help but follow, the distractions that cause me to grow and try and be and do...
i'm doing the best that i can.... & it's enough.

**************************************

(April 2)  A break in blogging brings to me an insecurity in ever pressing "publish" again... i haven't posted in weeks... "is this worthy of breaking my bloggy silence?" i wonder.
i write for week 29 and it sleeps in drafts while week 30 slips away.
i writhe as i write - i sneak in a post... it's harder than it used to be.
i'm different than i was - (even though my old posts still resonate truth, and i'm glad i've been honest - and i'm so very, very glad that i wrote them - there's always the balance between authenticity and the ugly over-share...)  Things i thought i was sure of forever, have changed - things i thought might change, haven't. i guess it all comes down to the profound truth that so many before me have already discovered; that the older i am, the less i am sure of... you know... it's one of those lessons we are all bound to learn if we end up living long enough... and i'm muddling through it - 'cause that's how i roll... i muddle.
But...
i want to write for you *now*, little son.
i dream about you often. So much of this pregnancy has a strange new flavour for me - your experienced mama... who must acknowledge... that she has never, ever experienced YOU. You're bringing me to exotic new places - my Father is drawing me in - carefully prying open the layers of my heart to expose me to truth, to Himself and to His Great Love.
He's using you to bless me, tiny boy.
And so i'll press, "publish" - because i only ever started blogging for you anyway... for all my sons and daughters - to leave you a breadcrumb trail to my Creator (and yours too). As an echo proclaiming the Faithfulness of a Holy God who was leading your mama in preparation for the journey of your precious life.
i love you little "june baby"...
i'm so glad you've come.

why wait?

Taking a deep breath & posting a few drafts from the past couple of months... This one is from nearly 6 weeks ago. There are more to come...
As a side note - i have been wanting to blog more, but a little one broke my laptop screen and we just can't stomach the funds to get it fixed right now, so i haven't been able to write as much as i've wanted to. Oh, i've had some good thoughts that have flitted in... & flitted out. i really, really miss my laptop and late night writing sessions when my husband is out of town. But for now - here is a little bit of life to share...

****************************************************


At the time of this writing, i am seven weeks pregnant... and it's a secret.
i've done both - the frantic spilling of beans and the careful holding of news... and i've found that the careful holding of news seems to spare me some anxiety - so despite the heaving volcano inside wanting to jump up and tell the world our news, i'm holding it, examining it, pondering it and keeping it... just for now.
i guess anxiety is to be expected for a mama who has miscarried three times. i know that sometimes my little ones have come to stay - and sometimes their stay has been painfully short. And so in these months - tho i have never been able to hold back the waves of love that lap over the little one growing in the secret place - i hold them with open hands, accepting this gift from the Creator, yet knowing that the Great Giver and Taker of life is sovereign... and i trust Him.
i don't know why i feel less anxious when less people know about my tiny growing one - but i do. It's some psychological blip that makes me feel the comfort of solitude in waiting out these anxious weeks... of course, i'm never completely successful in my secret keeping - my husband is in on it - and as of a day or two ago - so are my big girls... Which brings me to the next reason waiting works for me:
Morning sickness? Is awful. i won't dwell on this topic because goodness knows, i could fill page after page of whining, complaining and self-absorption. i'm so sorry that the first trimester seems to shake everything out of me - leaving me exhausted, nauseated and useless. i needed to let my bigs in on the secret because i owed it to them after my bewildering sudden failure to do and be and cook and teach. But i've found that sometimes - if i talk less, i complain less... i hope it works - even just a little.
When i'm nauseated and tired and hormonal - to the point that it's really hard just to focus on anything other than that tiny, flailing being that is making me feel so rotten, i start to fantasize about telling people. If only to explain myself, to give a real reason to little furrowed brows of little people who wonder why mama is being such a lunk.
i'm counting down in my head - not that many more days - then you can tell, paige... 
But then i imagine the reactions that are going to feel like a kick when i'm down & i start to think that maybe any number of days wouldn't feel like enough.
"i'd kill myself if i were you!!"
"How old are you anyway??!!"
"i thought you weren't having any more?"
and oh my heart, i just know i'm not strong enough to string together coherency amidst my nausea... i know i'm not smart enough to respond with wisdom amidst my first trimester exhaustion...
And so i bite my tongue and think to myself - in a few weeks i'll deal with all that...
But meanwhile, my little one grows.
Tiny son or daughter sprouts arms and legs, and furiously beating heart begins to pound in wee forming chest.
Technically - this little person is still considered an "embryo".
But my baby is blissfully unaware of this title - and is growing, doubling in size, taking what is needed from mama...
In a matter of days - baby will be out of the embryonic period, and enter the fetal period... It will be the same babe created on the very day of conception - the same one who had a tail and paddle hands, the same one who will one day... hopefully... be in my arms pursing pink lips - blinking in the light of day.
And so - i hope that someday i can post this... when i'm not seven weeks pregnant. A little memory of the snivelling, barfing, mess that i was in this first trimester - daily making the choice to trade anxiety for gratitude and sickness for a slower pace - and imagining the little June baby who will make every moment worthwhile.

soul speak

i was listening to a song on the radio the other day - and i decided i wanted to learn the rap. Imitation is honestly a good way to learn, and sometimes some of the raw emotion expressed in rap is truer than any pretty melodic line... So i thought, "Why not give it a go, mama?"
i listened and printed the lyrics off the internet - but they rang hollow and phony in my own ears - even though it was their authenticity that caught my attention in the first place. i hadn't had any of the life experiences that the writer of that song had... and even though the song resonated with me, it felt weak to imitate his inflections and pauses - let alone the words he stretched and bounced artistically across the beat.
So i sighed... and decided to write my own.
Honestly? It's not my first time trying to rap... (and don't get a strange picture in your head of a white 36 year old woman trying to be young and hip... that's not what it's about - it's more about finding my own voice - no matter the genre.)
And so i wrote. i scrawled lyrics across the note pad, crossed out bits and crowded others in tiny letters. i was gentle with rules - and generous with heart. i used my piano and sang a simple melodic hook. i didn't write about apartheid or abuse... i wrote about how we've been lied to and taught to believe things about God that just aren't true.
Neil can hardly look at me without smirking... Cai stopped me as i attempted to show her the fruit of my afternoon labour, "No, mom. i don't need to hear you rap..."
But i don't care.
Art is like that - begging to be attempted... and yeh - i think i probably made a big mess out of it - and i should have probably followed a few rules a little closer - counted syllables with a little more care, paid attention to the lyrics of the hook rather than just the melody... or maybe i should have put my pencil away and cleaned the toilets or scrubbed baseboards - but i didn't.
And there it is...
It's kind of like this pathetic little blog that i keep up. i'll keep trying to find my voice - and speaking the little bits of truth i discover - with my eyes open to see Him in every tiny bit of life i capture.

digging for treasures

i was looking for something in my blog drafts the other day and i realized that i have half-written about a billion blogs that i never bothered to flesh out and publish.  i wrote about Elmer's funeral, a Tough Topic post, some travelling husband thoughts and a mama moment. 

It's like when a good friend comes over. Little ones are running around, and suddenly needing me more than they have for the past month. i'm being peppered with questions and my permission is required and tiny one needs me to wipe his bum -

And i find that my friend and i hardly got to finish a single thread of conversation - instead it was all tiny bits and pieces - baubles and buttons that are hardly coherent in the state we got to pass them in...

But sometimes... later in the day, before they've faded from my memory, i pull them out and examine them.  i piece them together and learn something new.  i remember what i was saying when she tried to tell me that story and it all suddenly makes sense now that i get the context. 
"Ahh," i choke out - overcome as i realize the richness that comes from buttons and baubles that have the capacity to become treasures...

That's what some of these little drafts are like - tiny baubles and buttons - preserved in a raw way.  Incomplete sentences that only half express the idea i was trying to capture.  Every so often, one of them becomes a treasure - but really - it's so incomplete, so hit and miss, so one dimensional. It would hardly be worth it - unless you had some enjoyment even for the colours and shapes of the buttons and baubles that are more frequently produced.
And i do. 

*self portrait series by ephraim - a selection of 3 of the 127 pictures i found on my iphone. 

seven quick takes

1.  Sometimes we go to Costco.  Usually it's just the two of us - on a hot date to buy lettuce in bulk.  He never eats samples.  Ever. 
And to me, it's strange 'cause i love eating a piece of granola bar followed by a hunk of meat on a cracker with a pomegranate juice chaser.  One day i noticed him with an odd smirk on his face - watching a free sample table. 
"What's so funny?" i asked.
"Look at them... Everyone is the same.  They skulk around, peering nervously around themselves.  They circle past... then look back trying to be discreet.  They all have a goofy excited look on their face as they furtively grab the sample and run away as if they've stolen something." 
"They do?"
"Yeah.  They do."
So i went to the booth and asked loudly, "Can i have one for my husband over there too?  He's too shy to get his own." 
:) 
Just kidding... but i should'a.

2.  i'm panicking about homeschool this week.  Just ignore me.  It will pass.  Every so often, i get organized and i worry about the program i'm planning for each little student and then suddenly like Peter who takes his eyes off Jesus when he's walking on water... i sink.  It's a terrifying prospect for me to think of the education of my children... and i know that each one of them will "own" their own accomplishments and failures - but i can't help but taste a little of each win and loss as i watch them grow. 

3.  In light of my panic, i ran out to Neil's office this week during business hours.  i hovered over his desk, vibrating as he finished his phone call and finally looked up at me - all calm and cool, "What's up?"
"Neil!!  i need this certain type of bookshelf.  i need it right now!  i can't do homeschool without it and YOU HAVE TO BUILD IT FOR ME OR OUR CHILDREN WILL NEVER GRADUATE!!!  THEY WILL LEARN TO HATE US (me) FOR THEIR LACK OF QUALITY EDUCATION AND I CAN'T HANDLE THEIR LOATHING!!!!"
"Uh, yeah... i'm kind of busy right now.  Maybe later."
Choking back sobs, "If we all last that long..."
So, yeah... a little over dramatic over here.  You might want to avoid me for a few weeks till this blows over. 

4.  When people are rude or inconsiderate to my kids - i take it waaaaay harder than if it happens to me.  i want to teach them to have grace for adults who don't know how to treat children - because i can't control every moron in the world, but i can gently encourage my little ones to turn the other cheek.  It's still hard. 

5. This little instagram shot made my morning... it makes me want to keep writing - and to get better at it.  It is such a kindness that so many friends have read and encouraged me to keep going. 

6.  Sometimes i wish Ephraim weren't so consistently a morning person.  The occasional lapse in routine wouldn't hurt my feelings if it meant i could sleep in a bit... but the fact that he's such a happy little duck in the morning makes those early morning hours with just the 2 of us pass a little sweeter. 

7.   i woke up this morning surprised and dismayed that my coffee wasn't made for me. (THAT'S how spoiled i am!!)  Every morning that Neil's home, he makes a pot of coffee that is already simmering by the time i make it down stairs.  July has been a month of having Neil working from home more than away.  It has been a little oasis in the desert of "traveling man-dom". (Yes, i'm just making up words now).  i have been so grateful to have him around more.

Happy Friday :)

i want to

i want to jump in a lake and swim to the bottom where it's the coldest and stay down there until i feel like my lungs will explode. 
i want to learn to knit, and create interesting little woolen works of art for my children to wear. 
i want to go for a hike in a canyon, and then up a mountain... one with a view that takes my breath away. 
i want to jump in the vehicle and drive - with only Neil and a credit card and a map...
i want to sleep outside on the beach and wake up to the sound of the water lapping on the shore. 
i want to eat healthy wholesome foods and feed them to my children - things that i've watched grow out of the earth in my own yard.
i want to go biking when it's raining hard - and let the mud splash up my legs and back. 
i want to have friends that i've had for years - that really know me, love me and remember me when... i want them to come to my house and sprawl on my couch and talk real, challenge me, tell when i'm being an idiot. 
i want them to be married to men who feel the same way about Neil. 
i want their kids to love my kids. 
i want to wear long flowing dresses sometimes - without worrying about being practical.
i want to create an artwork of words.
i want to sing and play with a band that wants to sing and play with me... i want the music to be stuff that moves me...
i want to change the world - but i want to be content changing diapers... and i want to be content if there are no more diapers to change. 
i want to love foolishly, obey fearlessly, follow courageously and even lead when He asks me to. 

**
post inspired by Cai's bff Alisha at Mercy's Miracle - what do you want? 

sojourners

When i first started my blog, a friend encouraged me to start a website.  He set it up & it became a very primitive place for me to gather some links, thoughts and ideas about prolife.  Over the years, my blog has remained a better fit for me.  It's more casual, and a little less intimidating for me to use, as a lot of my posts are only tentative graspings for truth and my letters are shamefully, poorly written (it's all about the loaves and fishes, isn't it?)  All this to say, i never really got in the swing of the website thing and so, it remained a very primitive gathering of links, letters and ideas.   
In light of  www.sojourners.ca being so little used, we're going to shut it down.
If you want to go have a peek & save some of the links or posts that may have been helpful to you in wrestling through some of these important life issues, you can still do so for the next couple of weeks.  i think i'll bring some of my favourite pieces over here - (& some of them are already over here tucked away in the very early beginnings of my blog archives).
If you see something over there that you think is very helpful, let me know and i'll make sure to transfer those things to the blog and label them 'sojourners'. 
Thanks for sojourning with me :)

ps - i'm still in the running for top 25 moms of teens - you can vote for me HERE till june 25th. 

7 quick takes volume SEVEN

1. When i spot grammatical errors on my blog after it has already been up for a long time, my cheeks burn & my heart beats really fast.  It's totally embarrassing & seems to be happening with increasing frequency these days.  Am i getting dumber?  Or am i not proof reading like i should?  Dunno - regardless, forgive me.  i hate reading stuff that's full of horrible spelling & grammar & i bet you do too.

2.  Y'know, i'm still doing 15 on Friday.  Sometimes i don't know why... but i don't feel completely 'released' from it yet.  The prayer part is... interesting.  i don't know if i'm learning or if i'm just banging my head on a brick wall.  Some days all i feel is exquisite rejection & i feel like i could just peel off my skin... in great slabs of ugly flesh... until i would become just bones, naked and so utterly unlovable... & yet, i can't stop proclaiming HIS GREAT LOVE... It's the great juxtaposition between how i feel & what i know to be true.  God help me. 

3.  Speaking of prayer... the other day in one of those moments that happens a million times, but this time it happened to catch like a little burr in my mind... we were praying during our morning school.  Mollen was grouchy for whatever reason & she kind of scowled as she sharply prayed, "Dear Heavenly Father..." thick resentment in her voice..." Give us a good day.  Amen." 
Then someone else prayed... & then someone else... & then suddenly i heard her little soprano, softened, beseeching the throne-room again, "God? Thank you for my family.  Could you help me to have a better attitude?" 
Oh, Holy Spirit... faithfully meet with us.  Challenge us when we allow bitterness to take root.  i'm so grateful for the opportunity to come before my Father with my little ones.  These are precious moments in these crazy fast years...

4.  Neil and the road are best friends.  Vancouver, Toronto, Chicago, Winnipeg... oh, baby... come home to me.  After only being home for 10 days total in January... i hoarded every one of the 13 days he was home in February.  i'm glad that his trips usually aren't long - & that he usually finds his way home for the weekends... i might nail his shoes to the floor soon though...

5.  At the time of the writing of #5 on this volume of 7 quick takes, this post has taken me three weeks to write.  We'll see if i ever get all the way to seven.

6.  For number six of the seven quick takes, i offer you the text i sent to my sister the other day:  "Ephraim found a little piece of brownie in my bra when i nursed him.  There *are* some pleasant surprises in life after all."

7.  And, an email conversation copied verbatim from my most recent emails with my halftime husband: 

me: Do you think of me during the day when you're working, or are you just too busy?  i've thought of you a freaking ton today... Maybe i should be working harder...

neil: All the time.  It is crazy. 

me: For reals?  Or are you smirking?

neil: Yup.

me: your friend brad scared the crap out of me today when i was driving.  Bad.  i miss you.  Cai is making supper tonight.  Her own version of roast beef.  She's adorable.  i adore you. 
p
ps. Did you mean yes for reals, or yes smirking? 

neil: All of the above. 

The end.

(ps - leave me a comment. i'm lonely.)

in the quiet

i've been quieter lately.  i've been getting in trouble from friends & family for neglecting to return emails or texts.  i fight the inescapable desire to ignore incoming calls & my blog folder is exploding with unpublished drafts. 
The beads of silence are even surrounding me in my own house - & i find i like it. 
i know it seems like kind of a morose thing to cut yourself off a little... & honestly, i do feel guilty - because people are important & the gentle probing questions of the ones i love shouldn't go unanswered... but i feel like i'm in those in between moments - you know those moments between wake and sleep?  Where you're neither asleep, nor completely awake.  It's kind of a blissful place - a little foggy and interesting and confusing.  i like it.
But... even if a little reprieve is ok... there comes a time to wrestle out of it. 
It's just that learning makes me so insecure and tired :) 
40 days for life begins tomorrow.  i'm gearing up to blog over there for the whole 40 days.  If you would like to contribute to that blog, or participate at the prayer vigil, be sure to let me know. 
Waking up... getting the sleep out of my eyes now... pressing on. 

blogging with honesty

Hey Paige?  Writing angsty blog posts & then leaving them all to sit in all their mellow dramatic glory in your drafts folder isn't exactly blogging... but whatever... that's beside the point. 

The best writing probably has to thank the words that were not written (or that were deleted in time... or put in the purgatory of a "drafts" folder...).

Blogging can be tricky business - especially when your blog becomes for you a seeking place, a sharing place, a growing place.

It can be tempting to manipulate situations or want to be seen only in a certain light...
It can be tempting to omit the unpleasant - or to dwell blindly on *self*... It can be tempting to be cryptic or vomit a bitter spew of honesty... These are all things i strongly dislike. 

It's such a delicate, tender balance, isn't it? - & there are so many who walk that road so deliberately & inspiringly.
   
There is so much to learn, isn't there?

It seems crazy to me that i've been blogging these 5 years already... & in that time, i guess there are a few observations that i have found to hold some truth in blogging the tougher stuff, the growing stuff, the tender subjects that have the potential to wound.. or tear down what required a gentle building up and mending...

One thing that i've done in those situations is to imagine someone that i respect and admire holding the opposite view.  This is often very easy for me, since i know so many amazing individuals with differing opinions... i give them a voice in my head... what might they say that is reasonable and true?  How might they respond to the words i've chosen?  What would wound, what would convict, what could i say that would best represent the One i long to be like? Of course, i don't always know what they would say, i'm human and i'll make mistakes - and there are times where people will just plain disagree, but it gives me a more graceful starting point if i try first to understand. 

The second thing that i try to do when i'm faced with uncertainty is to rip a post apart and work on each thought as an individual entity.  i start with the piece that i know to be the most true (with whatever small amount of wisdom that God has given) - and proceed from there. 

The final thing... is probably the most important... i wanna be teachable, correctable.  i've noticed it helps me to receive correction in writing, rather than verbally (*love* challenging, thoughtfully worded comments!)  i find i'm better able to sort out my own feelings to find what is true. i can pray about it & see if there is validity in what someone else is saying to me... (& sometimes, i'll find that it's just an attack & there is no truth - or other times, i'll find that there is truth & i need to respond accordingly).  But regardless, when a rebuke comes - verbally, in writing, by insinuation or accusation, i want my response to be to look inward - not retaliation, but reflection... it's my *goal* :) 

Anyway, a question that someone emailed me ages ago got me thinking on this topic & most of this post has been sitting in my drafts box since then... & then i read a thoughtfully worded blog post on what could be a tougher topic posted awhile ago (ahem... cairo), & i still didn't share, but maybe i will now.

What are your thoughts on blogging with honesty?

um, you *are* the church

For some reason, after over a thousand blog posts, people keep asking me for copies of THIS one.  i'm feeling it more today. 
So often we hear people say, "If only the CHURCH would do such and such, it would be better!" or, "i'd be a part of the church if it wasn't so..."
Gently, i'd just remind you (& myself)... that if you are a Christ follower... you are the church.  BE the church... go to Him hungry, and thirsty, tired and broken.  Let Him croon tenderly to you words of love and healing.  You are the church & He loves His bride.

Here's a repost:

this is the church i go to...


Hey, let me introduce us...

We're the broken - the sick - the lost - the dying...

We've struggled with death and disease, some of us have come here looking for answers, not knowing if we believe in heaven at all... some have become hard and calloused and don't even know why we're here Sunday after Sunday. Still others of us come because we need fellowship with other people who love Jesus...

Some of us are struggling with infertility, some of us have been cheated on, disrespected, abandoned by spouses who should have known better. Some of us have been happily married for decades. Some of us are lonely, guilty, shy, boisterous, bitter or happy. Some of us are reeling from circumstances that have spiraled far beyond our control.

This is the church that i go to...

Some of us mouth the words of the songs because our hearts would break if we *really* sang those words. Some of us are unemployed, former addicts, present day mess-ups, control-freaks or successful businessmen. Some of us are grieving our babies lost to miscarriage - others grieving our children lost to abortion - & still others are gratefully anticipating new life with swelling bellies and tearful gratitude.

This is the church i go to...

Our childhoods are as varied as the rest of our lives... Some were happy.... Some of us were neglected, abused, ignored, abandoned. Some of us were motherless, others fatherless - some of us got good grades & some of us are drop outs. Some of us still feel stuck in those years - the hurts won't heal & we come here looking for answers... looking for Jesus... so we can quit wasting away and start living.

This is the church i go to.

Some of us come straight from work, others from hellish, unimaginable situations, & some straight from a good night's rest... Some of us go home to empty houses, or warm lunches, or out to work again...

But on Sunday morning, we gather as a congregation...

We, who are daily becoming aware of our need...

Jesus.

He is the cup - and we are thirsty - parched, crawling and almost delirious with our need.

Jesus.

He is the bread - our frail bodies are wracked with hunger.

Jesus.

We're clinging to the cross...

This is the church i go to.



12On hearing this, Jesus said, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. 13But go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice.'[a] For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners." matthew 9:12&13

 36When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. matthew 9:36

Need some new music?

Remember when i wrote my book? 
In a moment of rare confidence, we made the order of books to distribute. 
& i felt my cheeks turn crimson & blinked back tears of shame, my confidence completely gone, as that box of books came through the door. i could hear the voice of the accuser in my ear saying, "Who's gonna want to read that anyway?  You're kind of dumb... "
& my children squealed and ran to get a knife to open that box & pull out all those glossy copies... & i groaned... sick to my stomach. 
& then my friend Lisa emailed me... "Can i come by & pick up a book?  Tonight?"
& she came... like a little bustling Hero up my steps & into my house.  She shoved ten bucks in my hand & grinned at me, "i can't wait to read it!  Seeya!"
& just like that... my first copy walked out the door. 
Over the next weeks, friends and family picked up copies & gradually, that big box emptied & finally i sold the last of them & had to order more...
Anyway, all this to say... that writing... (this blog & my little book)... takes every ounce of courage that i possess. 
i know...
i'm not very courageous. 
& i might have just crumbled if friends hadn't come along... & cheered for me... when i was too shy to put myself out there.  Bloggy friends reviewed my book & organized give aways.  Others surprised me by posting reviews on Amazon & still others wrote me heartfelt encouraging notes. 
Putting yourself out there is scary... Some people... (maybe most people?!)... won't like whatever it is you've created.
& it's so hard to lay your soul bare & hear, "meh..." in response.   Sometimes you don't even want to take the risk. 
This year, friends of mine - Dave & Janna McPhee put themselves out there & created something - music full of truth... & a good, heaping, (pressed down, shaken together and running over) measure of beauty too. 
i'm so glad they did.  It's so good, so honest, so encouraging & edifying. 
i wanna share it with you.   
You can check it out HERE. 
(or i bought my copy on itunes)... & can i say... that if you don't want to risk buying the whole album on my say so :)  that my favourite song lately has been How Beautiful.
(They have a facebook page too, if you 'like' that kind of thing ;)  HERE). 

Anyway... artists, musicians, writers... mamas who aren't paid, but blog anyway, people who try to create beauty (& the ones who succeed amazingly, like Dave & Janna)... this is me, tipping my hat to you.  i know how freaking hard it is.  Be faithful in sharing what He gives you to share.  Play for the audience of ONE when nobody listens, nobody reads, nobody sees, because this world can always use a little more truth and beauty.   
My mom always said there were 2 kinds of people; those who create & those who tear down.  i wanna be counted among those who build up & create... The company here is fabulous. 

********************************
ps - nobody asked me to review this album, i'm just sharing it 'cause it has been meeting a cry in my heart lately & i'm grateful for it. 

reflections on a busy November

So i am home. 
i am safe and comforted, poured out, used up and finished. 
My dry little soul praises my Maker for what November brought. 
The ladies tea in Ponoka was a night of uncertainty.  Would God come?  Would He meet my needs when i was broken and afraid? 
He came. 
The memory that persists from that night was the woman who might have been in her 50's.  She came up to me and tearfully told me about her losses.  They far outnumbered the children she was given to raise.  She almost whispered, "i never heard anyone share about miscarriage before.  Thank you."
And then there were the four nights God gave me in Sexsmith.  Each one unique and beautiful in it's own way.  The third night was awash in tears, awkward pauses, strange mistakes and blunders... but i trust that even there, God can use my weaknesses for His Glory.  The fourth night, i asked God what the evening would hold & felt a deep, honest peace... That night was my favourite - i felt like a baby soothed by it's nursing mama - and i felt like i finished with His blessing.  i walked off... found a quiet corner... and closed my eyes with gratitude knowing that *home* was only hours away.
Once home, i hermited at my computer for a couple of stolen hours and wrote about eight hundred blog posts that begged to be captured (actually, only 6... but that felt like a lot!), a couple that i've shared already & others that i'm still figuring out - fingering the edges, considering their texture, their deeper meaning, the value - or lack of value.    There is something comforting about the solitude of writing and the camaraderie that comes from sharing what you've written.  Thank you, for reading here... it means a lot to me to have you come. 
i sold all the books i had... and then a couple more that i will have to ship... and December brings the blessing of time away with Neil - & it makes me laugh that my Father knew how i would finish this month empty & He provided for replenishing in the next.
i hope December brings joy, sincerity and reconciliation.  i hope it brings growth, honesty and clarity.  i'd love to feel understood, but i'll settle for better understanding, if He'll let me.

home

It's been a rough go. 
This blog - is for my little ones.  Maybe one day it will be helpful for them to see their mama 'in the thick of it all' & know how very hard i wrestled out my faith because of my love for them.  And yet even though i write with that small audience in mind, i've chosen to be public in this seeking place - hoping that He will use even these tiny loaves and fishes and multiply them for His Kingdom...
Sometimes that makes it more challenging - because of the privacy of others, but i don't know how to embark on this next stage of learning without gently, brokenly stating that my parents have filed for divorce.  i'm not gonna talk about them - or their marriage, but instead i need to take a long hard look at myself - the walking wounded child of divorce - and explain to my children that yes... i'm drowning, but i promise you all that i will pull myself together.  i will press into the heart of my Father, and accept His comfort.  i will learn what He has for me to learn and i will whisper the truths He teaches me through this present pain into your ears and hearts.  Bear with me, little ones, i'm still reeling. 
i just feel like grabbing Neil & hiding & making him tell me that we'll still love each other when we're 60 and still flawed - that we'll laugh at our differences - hold hands when we walk together and cradle each other when we cry... i want to crawl inside his head and fill it with memories of our past & our dreams for the future & all the things we are to each other. 
My friends tell me it will get better - it will get easier as these nighmarish days pass and we find our new footing, but right now... this is where i am... feeling a little orphaned, blinded by darkness, feeling my way along a dangerous pathway, praying for morning. 
i hate looking at marriage with fear - & that's what i can't seem to stop doing right now...

What's really scary

i posted this on the OTHER blog today too.  We're counting down the final week of our vigil - & that's where my mind has been. 

On Friday and Saturday i had the chance to attend the Life 2011 National Prolife conference.  There were people who have been involved in prolife since before any laws even began to change, long before the years of publicly funded abortions, and certainly... before i was even born. 
i was hoping it would be ok to post here some 'learning posts'... i think for me, better understanding our situation in Canada helps me to pray...
It was 1969 when abortion first began to be decriminalized in Canada.  From there, we have never been able to stem the tide.  The Canadian Supreme Court struck Canada's abortion laws completely in 1988 and declared them "unconstitutional".  Since then, there has been no legal protection for tiny ones growing in the womb.  In 1991, the supreme court ruled that a baby even in the process of being born, was not a person (even if the baby's head was outside of her mother's body). 
In 1999 Calgary nurses from the Foothills hospital complained about a late term abortions in which the children were born alive and left to die, and in particular, a late (35 week) abortion in which the child was born alive and lived for 12 hours.  The police found no evidence of criminal wrongdoing, (without interviewing any nurses)- but the "pregnancy termination guidelines" were subsequently changed to suggest that doctor's consider feticide in utero before delivery (by intracardiac injection of KCI). 
You can read more about Canada's timeline HERE and HERE.  (You'll notice the slant in the language from the two websites - one being prolife, the other prochoice).   
Since 1969,  more than three million Canadian children have lost their lives to abortion.  i wonder sometimes about those three million... some of them should be older than me by now... & every day the number grows.  We can't leave this Canada to our children. 
i hate hallowe'en, but at the conference this weekend, Peter Menzies talked about how there are dwindling numbers of trick or treaters as of late... He told us that the number of children between the ages of 5-14 has dropped by 10% in the past 9 years.  He said it's the smallest number of children in that age bracket since 1988...
What happened in 1988 again?

who doesn't like prizes?

i made a facebook page for the 40 days for life blog. 
i was hoping for 100 likes by the end of the 40 days (another 15 days) but then my cousin offered a prize for a random person when we reached 100 likes. 
It took 2 days. 
So, i figured since that worked so well, i'd see if we could find another present for 200 'likes'.  We found one. 
My sweet friend makes the best bibs ever & they're adorably cute.  She's offering 2 & i'm throwing in a copy of my book too. 
If you want a chance to win, all you gotta do is go to our facebook page HERE & click 'like' then watch to see who wins. 
(Having the opportunity to share the page with your friends is just a bonus). 
You don't need to live in Calgary - or even Canada - to enter. 
You can find the page HERE. 

Tough Questions

A few days ago, a friend emailed me with some thoughts and questions about the 40 Days for Life prayer vigil that i have become a part of.  i wanted to share some of my thoughts that came out of that conversation... so i'll pose the questions (not in anyone's wording but my own) & my answers below. 

Do you think that the benefit outweighs the negativity that these women feel seeing "protesters" on the sidewalks by the abortion clinic?  Do you think that maybe sometimes - abortion is not quite as bad as we make it out to be?   

During the vigil, the 40 days for life organizers keep track of how many babies they know for sure are saved by their presence & PRAYERS on the side walk. The number is now in the thousands (4, 313 prior to this campaign). These are only the babies that we know of - where mothers have come & asked for help - (& they get compassionate, loving help from those Christians standing there *ready, willing & able* to help - or to find someone who can). There have also been countless post-abortion mama's & daddies who have come forward & begun their healing and recovery. 

i know that we're all gonna be different in what we're supposed to do in our call to action - i feel strongly led to be involved in 40 days for life... the prayer... the prayer is what is changing me. i know i won't change your mind - & i'm good with that :) but at the same time... i do feel that there is a truth here... that is valuable - & worth defending.

The science behind life beginning at conception is what convinces me - that this is a clear cut issue. Human beings are made to love, care for and nurture their young... If our culture provides abortions rather than the love & support that mama's need to do what they were created to do - then i really believe that things need to change.

Every time i go, i'm saddened with the possibility that my presence causes agony... but that agony is kinder than silently turning my back while evil is accomplished... i feel it in the same way that God didn't have to let me get 'caught' when i had sex out of wedlock! But He did!! & it was a kindness to me that i was embarrassed, hurt & caught... It was His best gift that He brought LIGHT into the areas of my life where i let darkness in...
 
Does it bother you to be lumped in with fanatical, angry, judgemental pro-lifers?  Do you want to be associated with those graphic images?
 
i went to the life chain this year & even though for the most part, it was HUGELY encouraging to see so many people who were willing... i found it disconcerting to see one very tiny group of teens dancing and laughing... :) and it seemed to *me* making light... i think because i have seen tiny babies... that have died - that it makes me feel more sober and serious when i think on these things. But who am i to think that i know or understand their motivation?  i'm grateful for their presence, even if i haven't had the chance to get to know their hearts yet...


Regarding graphic images (i have never, ever seen graphic images used at 40 days for life Calgary - to my knowledge, they're not used at all by this group)- for me *personally* i won't use them (unless God asked me to.  Then i would... immediately)... The kids and i are reading 2 Samuel lately & there's this part where Saul's concubines sons are killed... She goes to the place where her son's bodies have been set out on display - and she spreads a cloth on a rock & stays there 'from harvest until the rains fell', scaring off birds or beasts who would hurt their bodies... She stayed there until finally king David ordered a proper burial. i think i feel a little like Rizpah did too... i feel like we need to have respect for those little ones who are vulnerable - even though they're already gone. i feel a tenderness towards those little *people* who are used as graphic images... & my mama heart says,... 'let's not'...

At the same time, i know graphic images have been used in situations like the Rwandan genocide - because it was necessary to get people's attention. "This is what is really happening - are we really ok with this??!!"  Some people need to see the death and careless destruction of lives to really come to terms with what we've become.  i heard a story just last week about one of those trucks that carries graphic images of aborted babies.  An old man stood at the corner staring up at the image, and said sorrowfully, "i never knew... i honestly never knew."  He was changed by what he saw... So - if someone were to feel strongly about the use of graphic images for prolife work, i wouldn't stand in their way - or argue... but i do know that for *me*... it's not what i feel led to do.

As far as being lumped in... i get that too. But, the best way for me to get over that is to only look at Jesus. If i looked at all the other "big family moms" - i'd feel out of place... if i looked at all the other "homeschooling moms" or "prolifers" or "christians" - i might worry about being lumped in with them.... but instead, i'm trying to keep my eyes on HIM - & be who he wants me to be... even if those around me don't represent me exactly...

Do you think that those bearing a sign reading, "Mommy will it hurt?" are expressing what will only be seen as contempt for the broken women seeking abortions?
(You can read the full comment and my original response HERE)

Firstly, i wouldn't choose this sign...  - but i do understand the goal of the statement on it.  (There will be an honest, raw response from Dave on the subject of this sign tomorrow).  It is an attempt to humanize the tiny one that for the past 30+ years has been referred to as "tissue" or, "a clump of cells".  It speaks to the uncertainty that prevails around when a child can feel pain and i think these are valid points. As far as people *feeling* contempt, as i responded to the original commenter who suggested a sign that read, "You are loved, chosen and forgiven" - that sign too would be construed by some as bearing contempt - because if you're offering forgiveness, you're acknowledging a wrong committed. 
You see, these are such difficult waters... It takes courage to stand on those street corners - wearing an imperfect sign - bound by law that we cannot speak unless spoken to.
So come, Christian - make your sign, let your little ones colour it with markers - stand on the street corner with your one line message and pray that those who drive by will see your heart.... (i pray this every single time i stand on that street corner).
i need to add here that the signs are secondary.  If they told me tomorrow that we were banned from bringing signs, i would still go.  Why?  Because - we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. (eph. 6:12). 
So, if you're uncomfortable with the signs, if you're unable to be a physical presence - stand with us in prayer.  Join us at whatever point you're able - we'll meet you there, and together we can by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present our requests to God. (phil. 4:4-8)

What do your littles think about the topic of abortion?

My little ones are still mostly in the 'sponge' phase.  i'll never forget the thoughtful look on my son's face as i described the situation that THIS family found themselves in.  We prayed for little Rachel every day.  Her life & her parent's choices - provided the substance for many great conversations & growing opportunities for my little ones.  i'm so grateful to them for choosing life. 
My teens are at a different phase - & we discuss things on a deeper, more personal level.  i asked them some of their views recently & found their responses interesting.  Softie (13) said that she could see herself involved in a peaceful prayer vigil in the years to come (so far they haven't come to pray with me - just to play at the park).  We were reading our history book the other day - and as we rounded another bend in the curve of time - and history repeated itself with more bloodshed and war, Softie gasped out loud, "NOOOOOooooo!  Not again!  How can they be so foolish??!!"  Later she told me something i have also long suspected to be true.  "Mama, they're gonna say that about us when they read about how we aborted our own babies in a hundred years..."  Radar (15) had something different in mind.  She came with me to an organizational meeting one day & listened in awe as Caroline stated that she wanted to try to meet with the clinic's director.  On the way home, she whispered to me, "How could you have that kind of courage?"  (Side note: the clinic director refused to meet with her).  Radar said, "i know i said before that i couldn't do it, mom, but i wanna meet with the clinic director one day... i don't know what i'd say, or what i'd ask... but i want to do something that will make a difference."
i pray that God will give them more courage than their mama (my courage fails so easily)... and that their little lives will be used in whatever capacity that God would choose to bring light and truth to a dark world. 

For those who had questions, or discomfort that they felt but didn't want to express, i want to tell you that it's ok to question, it's ok to think through *why* something makes us uncomfortable, why we choose not to "get on board".   i'm glad to talk about it - & yes... there are seasons where we bury our head in the sand (me too) - & that's ok... it's all a part of the 'wrestling out our faith with fear and trembling'... Just don't stay there.  We take on what we can when we're able... listening intently to that still small voice, and following where He leads.

more than halfway

We're more than halfway through our 40 day peaceful prayer vigil for life...
Have you had a chance to check out the blog HERE?
i'm working on a post giving my response to some of the questions that come up about prolife in general and this vigil in specific.  It's still marinading in my drafts folder. 
While i'm working on that, are there any questions you'd like to add to it? Some of the topics i'm hoping to cover are: What about graphic images? Don't you think women feel condemnation by your presence? Is there even an impact from a peaceful prayer vigil? Do you worry about being lumped in with the 'crazies'? :) 
Leave a comment, i'll do my best. 
The littles & i are reading in Romans today & we were reminded how when our faith is *real* - it changes the way we live and the choices that we make. 
i told them about the young, second time mama who was diagnosed with throat cancer at the same time as her pregnancy was confirmed.  She refused treatments that would kill or hurt her tiny one, and ultimately died of cancer just as her baby girl reached viability... She lived out her faith in a courageous way...
i don't want a faith that changes when my circumstances are hard... i want a faith that gives me the courage to be different in this culture that magnifies 'self'. 
There's more to life than me...