It's the little things in life...

It's a beautiful clear Saturday morning and my heart is full. John snuck into Benji's room this morning and woke him up with the words this little 7-year-old has been dying to hear.
"Wanna go fishing, buddy?"
When the little things so often mean the most, why does it take such an effort to do them? I seriously don't know. When all my daughter wants to do is make a raspberry cheesecake with me, is it just my pure laziness that has kept me from it? When our fourteen year old son has been asking to watch the newest action movie for three weeks now, why does it take so long for us to get around to it?
The little things: going for a bike ride together, playing Wii Sports as a family, working on the scrapbook we started last month, baking cookies or playing a board game. These are the kinds of things I want to do with my kids.
And from the look on Benji's face this morning and the spring in his step, it seems the kids are pretty pumped about the little things, too!

Looking for a summer project???

No? Me neither. I always start the summer so optimistically, with a project list as long as my arm - "paint basement, pull out dried-up shrubs in front yard, lay flagstone path by shed, sign kids up for swimming lessons, book one more camping weekend, start jogging" (that's on my list all year long).
But then a dear friend e-mailed me today to say that God had been challenging her to keep her mind more focused on His truth. Would I be interested in memorizing some Scripture together this summer?
Would I?! You bet I would.
Here's why. Since I began seriously working at Scripture memorization about five years ago, God has honestly and truly rocked my world in ways I never could have imagined. Now don't get me wrong ... it's not like it's been back-to-back mountaintop experiences, sunshine and roses, or floating on cloud nine with not a care in the world. Nope. Life has gone on and, in some ways, it's gotten harder. We've had our same share of frustrations, disappointments, questions, losses and failures. Life continues to be tedious and mundane a lot of the time, no doubt about it. But in the midst of all that, God has CHANGED ME! And I know for a fact that a big part of that change is due to the verses and passages He's helped me to memorize. It's like He's taken those verses and made them a part of me... so much so that I find the words, HIS Word, coming to my mind or my lips right in the middle of a prayer or in the midst of a crap-ola situation that I have no idea how to handle. I can't count the times I've asked for His wisdom when I'm at a total loss for what to do ... and just as I learned from James 3:17, I've found that "the wisdom from above is first of all pure ... peaceloving ... gentle at all times and willing to yield to others." You think we can work up that kind of wisdom on our own? Not a chance, my friend, not over here in my world anyway. It's all Him, and only Him.

So if you're interested, but not sure how to start, here are a few things that helped me along the way:

1. Choose a verse or passage that MEANS something to you. It's a lot easier to work at memorizing something that God is currently using in your life or speaking to you about.


2. Give yourself some kind of timeline. (eg. "I want to memorize a verse a month for the summer - June to September.")
   
3. Find someone you can be accountable to ... someone who will ask you to recite your verse to them at the end of the month!


4. Buy yourself some index cards or, even better, a set of them already prebound in a spiral set. Set them somewhere visible. (I prop mine right up on the counter by the kitchen sink so I can practice that month's verse while I wash dishes. Needless to say, the cards are kind of ugly and wrinkled from all the dishwater I've splattered on them, but such is life.)

One more thing. Maybe you'd like to memorize a whole chapter or passage that's meant something to you along the way - like the twenty-third Psalm maybe. I'm actually memorizing Psalm 103 right now and all I'm doing is taking it two verses per month, just flipping to the next blank card in my spiral at the beginning of each month and writing out the next two verses from the chapter. It's working!

So, I hope this has inspired you to add one more teensy, tiny little thing to your summer project list. It's a teensy, tiny little thing, but the rewards are huge!

We're Heading South!

Well, we're doing it! We've bitten the proverbial bullet and we are heading down to Florida. Orlando, to be exact. Disneyworld to be exact-er. It was no small feat, convincing my sweetheart that our family NEEDED to spend our income tax return in this way ... but he eventually ran out of excuses and most likely got so tired of the pathetic, pleading look in my eyes that he figured it would be easier to cave and just do the thing than it would be to live under that kind of pressure much longer. I love that about him.

So, in exactly 48 hours we will be rolling down the 1-75, probably with our van scraping the pavement it will be so loaded down with "diversions" for the children. How exactly are we going to survive a 22-hour ride straight through the night and into the next afternoon? I have no earthly idea. Seriously, I don't. But "everyone" does this, apparently. I've lost count of the number of people who casually shrug it off. "Oh yeah, we do it all the time." "We drove straight through every year when our kids were young." Clearly this is within the realm of the possible. And so, I forge ahead with my packing, planning, organizing .... all the things I love to do. And I try not to think about the reality of what I've talked my husband into. Will we actually arrive in that far-off land? The hordes of tourists we will encounter at Disneyworld are the least of my concern right now. I just want to GET THERE!

Signing off in the hopes that we shall meet again...

It's a "Marvel-ous" Life

Have you ever stepped back and taken a look at your life and marvelled at the things you see there? I use the word "marvel" on a couple of different levels. It could be "marvel" in the sense that you can't believe your own good fortune. Or it could be "marvel" as in "This is more bizarre than anything I could ever have imagined being a part of my earthly existence!"



Being the rather introspective, pensive person that I am, I tend to do this quite regularly. Here are some things in my life that cause me to "marvel" from time to time:

• I have a snake living in my house. Right across the hall from my bedroom, actually. Atticus is a one-year-old rainbow boa belonging to my 13-year-old son Duncan.


• This fact alone causes me to shake my head, but even more bizarre is my willingness to participate in the weekly "feeding" of said snake. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I actually remind Duncan to defrost the frozen little mouse that he has removed from my chest freezer and then watch with morbid interest to see whether or not the sacrificial offering has been accepted.


• I marvel at the fact that we are not financially free and independent. I really thought by this time in our lives we'd have more of a handle on the money thing, but, well, we just don't.


• I find myself in awe over the love I have for my children. Of course, I knew I would love them like crazy, but sometimes I look at them and feel an ache in my chest for all the tenderness I feel. (Other times I feel an ache in my head for all the stress they cause, but that's for another post.)


• I am amazed at the faithfulness of God throughout my life. I really am. I look back and see His hand in so many situations; His patience with me as I try to walk closely with Him; His wisdom in the way He's guided me and taught me such important life lessons; and His power as He's delivered me from debilitating anxiety and fear. He is truly the biggest, greatest thing in my life. He is more than I'll ever be able to fully comprehend. And He is love. For all of us.

Have a marvel-ous day, wherever you are!

Happy Birthday to Me!

This may seem odd to you, that I'm wishing myself a Happy Birthday. Does it? I guess it might look a little self-centred or maybe it just seems weird that a 41-year old gal like myself is actually CELEBRATING another climb up the birthday ladder. Oh well. The fact of the matter is that this year I'm totally happy about my birthday. Maybe it's the fact that last year for my 40th I was confined to the couch with the worst head cold I've ever had. And we had to cancel all festivities (which included ice skating and cake & hot chocolate back here at home). It feels good to feel good for my birthday, for Pete's sake.

Actually, I think the main reason I'm so happy on my birthday this year is just that I'm feeling plain old thankful. On the way to work this morning, I was talking to God about stuff and I found myself saying, "Thanks for 41 years on this planet, Lord!" As my mind started to wander over the years of my life, it felt like I was watching a slide show in my own head (I know, I'm weird) ... the blessings just went on and on. How can you not enjoy your own birthday when God brings to mind an unending list of things to thank Him for?

So here are just a few of the blessings I am pondering on the big 4-1. (Don't worry, I won't be silly and try to think of 41 of them... you have better things to do):

• Parents who loved, encouraged and taught me what I needed to know for life
• Sixteen years of marriage to a man who loves, respects and values me
• Three amazing kids who challenge me and let me be part of their lives
• A flexible job where I get to do what I love the most (teach kids) and yet have lots of time for my family as well.
• Life in a free country
• God's amazing, unconditional love for me
• Friends
• A van that is on its last legs (wheels?) but still roars to life every morning for me
• Health
• Our new hardwood floors
• A great school for the kids, with (so far) no major issues to deal with

Thank You, Jesus!

I was so naive...

I thought blogging would be easy. I'd just sit down at the keyboard whenever the fancy struck me and, shazam!, something entertaining or lovely or moving or inspirational would miraculously just flow out of me. What foolishness! It has been almost three full months since my first and only post and I have been utterly paralyzed by an unidentifiable something ... any time I even think about blogging, my mind turns to mush. Or maybe even worse than mush - maybe something in the liquid family, like tomato soup. I don't know. See, I'm rambling already.

So, Laurie Lane, my favourite follower (heehee - there are benefits to being the one and only), this post goes out to you, my darling friend!
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Okay, I'll quickly tell you the weekend story. Here I was, all excited about taking John to this fabulous place I found .... the kids were super pumped about being at Mom and Dad's .... we had a great drive all the way there, talking about parenting, the future, all the typical "we're finally having an adult conversation" topics. As we entered the city, Steph the Diligent Navigator, promptly got out the Google Map Directions and un-bossily directed John as to where we should be going next. (This HAS been an issue in the past. Sigh.) We got ourselves onto the correct street, which turned out to be quite a high-traffic area, and started watching for house numbers. The magic number on our directions was house #102. No problem. Being the university graduates that we are, we quickly ascertained which side of the road contained the even numbers and scanned them carefully. 46, 58, 72, .... two blinks of an eye .... 134, 142, ....

Eeek! Back the truck up! Hmmm...well, maybe this was how it worked in bigger cities. We were clearly not in Kansas anymore, Toto. John turned the van around and back we went, squinting at the address plates even more carefully. Number 102 jumped out at me just as we were passing a house on the corner. With perfect style and form, my honey wheeled onto the narrow, icy side street and parked us by the curb.

"I don't think we should park here," said I. (Trying hard to be un-bossy and romantic.)
"Why not?"
"Because it's a really narrow, old street and there are two perfectly good parking spots in this here driveway at the back of the Bed-and-Breakfast."
"But we don't know for sure whose driveway this is, so I think we should stay parked on the street, go in and register and they'll tell us exactly where we SHOULD park and I can move the van when I go get the luggage." (No one told me marriage would be so full of tedious, drawn out decision-making conversations where we both try to be agreeable and giving, but deep down wonder why the other person cannot see what is so blastedly obvious to the rest of the world.)

"Alright, darling," I said. (In so many words.)
Off we went, hand in hand, towards the back entrance of the B-and-B. We noticed a cobbled path leading toward the rear of the house (how quaint - a cobbled path) and carefully made our way across a lovely patio area. Just as we were walking under a delightful little archway, my Columbia hiking shoes instantaneously lost all their little traction-bumpies and left me hovering in midair over a patch of ice. Down I crashed, my full weight coming to rest on the pointiest part of my right elbow, followed by a solid crunch of the right hip. Through the fog of my pain and surprise, I sensed a large St. Bernard coming to my rescue behind me. Oh. No, that was John. He was running in one spot on the ice while simultaneously reaching down to help me up. I'm sure we were a sight to behold.

In fact, I KNOW we were a sight to behold because just as we hobbled to our feet, the side door to the B-and-B swung open and we heard a decidedly irritated voice call out, "Can I HELP you? What are you doing back here?"
Hmmm... not the compassionate tone I was hoping for.
"I think you could use some salt back here," I pointed out in a very tactful way, I thought. "We're your 1:00 arrivals."
"Actually, that is our private entrance and no one is to be back there anyway."

Is it self-centred to want someone to care that you've just hurt yourself? On their property? I don't know. By the time she actually said, "Are you alright?" (in a totally unconvincing way) I was too far gone to even make conversation. The fact that she then sent us hobbling around to the front door, which was locked when we got there, and then proceeded to interrogate me as to why we were even BACK there in the first place (this all happened while John was getting the luggage) left me so utterly confused and furious that all I wanted to do was get out of the place. We had a couple hours until official check in time, so we zipped off to do some shopping. Like I was in the mood for that. As soon as we were back in the van, I actually started crying! And it takes a lot to make me cry. (Well, from pain, anyway- a good book or song can make me cry at the drop of a hat.)

I'll tell you, it took everything I had, plus a major infusion of Godly peace, to make me even want to go back to see that woman again. I was so determined to not let it ruin my weekend, and with the benefit of a few hours under my belt before we had to go back, I managed to actually smile at her and even make small talk. But I'll never go back there. Nope.

And that was how our weekend getaway began. I'm happy to report that this was the lowest point and that my wonderful husband quickly rejuvenated my spirits (by shopping for accent cushions for our living room with me). For John, this was the ultimate sacrifice of his time. He really is the best.

Wow, this blogging thing kind of takes over once you get going!

Blast!

I used to laugh at my father-in-law for this funny little expletive, but over the years I have unwittingly adopted it myself. For example, today I have decided to try to get this crazy blog of mine up and running, but "BLAST!" - there are so many things I still don't know how to do. Wait, let me rephrase that - I know almost nothing. I guess for now I'll have to be satisfied with a title, date and picture!! (So very proud of myself for figuring that one out.)