Anchors and Clear Sailing

In the life of a person, there are a very few anchors. For me, they are the relationships that keep one on an even keel, point to true north and keep us steady on toward wholeness and deep satisfaction. I am privileged to name mine as 1) Jesus 2) parents, 3) spouse, 4) child. From each, I have received unconditional love. My first anchor is the One who chose me from before the foundation of the world, loved me so completely he voluntarily gave his life to ransom mine, and now, by His Spirit, lives in me, to guide, sustain, provide, direct and complete.

When I am loved by those closest to me--my human anchors--those who love me best, I can more capably navigate the rest of life with its joy, trial, or trouble. This past weekend was one of those anchor-strengthening times and this blog entry is something of a journal entry. This unique weekend was one of those transcendent times that are hard to capture in words. Yet, I shall attempt to do so. Grab a cuppa something warm and read along if you like.

We had planned to possibly join my son and his wife on his birthday. As an only child, our family was small. When I was young, my very large family rarely ever celebrated birthdays in a personal or stupendous way. So, when he was young, we always made a big deal about birthdays. Now he is a mature young adult, it is only right and fitting that I share him. He is married, living close to his in-laws, and as a couple, they are quite socially active with their own circle of friends. I checked in with them about possible dates to come visit, and they'd already made plans for several close friends to come from out of town to spend his birthday weekend celebrating with him.

So we chose an alternative weekend when the Christkindlmarkt (German Christmas Market) was also going to be open in downtown Vancouver. Might as well include as much fun as possible with one trip. And much fun we did! We knew in advance, however, that there would be a third person with them: a dear young boy who had special needs. We'll call him "Joey" (not his real name). They had recently been approved by the government body who certifies relief care givers. They provide occasional care, keeping Joey the entire weekend, so that his foster home has a brief respite from his full time care.

My mother's heart was so enlarged by seeing my son and daughter-in-law's loving care for this sweet boy who'd been born with limitations he will never outgrow.  I was able to bear witness to how both of them patiently care for him, lovingly train him, and relate to him in healthy, life-giving ways. This was one of the most transcendent experiences of my life, defying definition. Gratitude and pride are mere shadows that barely approach the depth of emotion from our weekend together.

In these moments approaching holiness, I have learned to be silent. I used to be like the impulsive Apostle Peter on the Mount of Transfiguration, blurting out whatever comes to my head that "seems like a good idea at the time," but as I've aged, some wisdom has arrived that helps keep me humble (and closed mouthed) as an observer of the miraculous.

Please allow me to share some weekend highlights, and delights of all sorts. Rejoice with me. I record them because I want to remember.

Friday night we arrived after a full day of driving. The roads had been clear, with only a skiff of snow near the mountain pass. Driving through the mountains when the weather is good is such a gift and settles my soul every time. It is such mysterious, majestic beauty.

Upon our safe arrival, we checked into our favorite Best Western nearby, then went to my son's home. Joey was already in bed, so we visited quietly.

We had brought Andrew's birthday gift, a hockey jersey from his favorite team with the name of one of the rising young stars. He was delighted, as it had been on his wish list, which his wife kindly shared with us. Don't you just love giving your children gifts and witnessing their total delight?! And, of course, I also had to bring a gift for my grand-dog, Louise the Doodle. She enjoyed the tug of war rope I'd found for her. I also have begun an annual tradition of giving both him and his father-in-law a bottle of the annual release of Alberta's first local single malt whiskey. It's made using local grain, in small batches, at a certified farm distillery. It's a farm to glass operation, with some of their select batches coming from an old-fashioned harvest involving 4-horse-teams which pull a cutter/binder. This fall, Henry and I, along with a few dozen others, got to be "farmers for a day" and help stook the barley or assist later in threshing for a future batch.

Since the beginning of Advent was the next day, I had planned a special surprise for "my kids" -- even though they are adults, I suspect a part of us never outgrows our favorite childhood traditions. This is the first year I've made up a calendar on my own, rather than just buying a chocolate one. Our church held a fundraiser recently, sponsored by women from the sewing club. Proceeds go to our church camp, so I'm happy to support it by stocking up on stocking stuffers. One item I found there was this hand stitched advent calendar which can be re-used each year. I filled each pocket with two chocolates for both A & R. Gotta be fair!

(If you want to see more detail, you can click on any picture for a larger version.)

Then, I added individual notes in each day's pocket with a daily activity to help focus on faith. Each day the items rotate through either prayer, service, or a spiritual practice. The ideas and inspiration came from here. Since the prayer practices included lighting candles once per week, I also gave them an accompanying advent wreath and candles, so they can light them each Sunday to represent hope, peace, joy, love and (on Christmas Day) light. This is my first year doing this also, and I'm very excited to share the experience with them. It was fun picking out the candles and finally using the wreaths I'd purchased several years ago and saved for just the right time.

We finished our night with snacks and a couple quiet rounds of Azul, an award-winning board game which they had introduced us to on our previous visit. To my surprise, I managed to win both rounds. That's unusual, as I instilled a competitive spirit in my son and he's usually tops in most of our competitions.

Saturday we met for breakfast at Porters Bistro Coffee & Tea House, as is our favorite tradition. It's successfully managed by my son's in-laws, and no visit is complete without at least a couple breakfasts and an evening of scrumptious buffet dinner with live music in this heritage building built in the early 1900s. If you are the kind of person who likes to watch Hallmark Christmas Movies, you might see Porters featured in some of them.

Then we were off to walk Louise the Doodle. It was a lovely foggy day, with frost just clearing from the grass. The mist hung low over the school field as we made our way to the playground.

Then it was time for regularly scheduled therapeutic horseback riding for Joey. I can't share pictures of him, but let me try to describe it. The weather had turned into a wonderful sunny day which offset the chill in the air. We watched the ride, where Joey sits on the horse with someone walking alongside as a spotter and another person leading the horse. He did very well, sitting tall in the saddle, holding on by himself, and his smile gave testament to the joy of this experience.

Afterward, we all went to our hotel, had a quick bite of lunch and took a dip in the indoor pool, which we had all to ourselves. Joey loves the water, even the hot tub, which was very hot! I love being in the water, so this was a treat for me too!

Our evening was a repeat of the night before, but we brought in Vietnamese food for supper, and watched a hockey game, then just chilled with Louise the doodle, who is also learning some very valuable lessons as she now shares her master's attention with another person in the house.

Sunday morning started a bit earlier than usual, as we chose to attend services with A & R. Next, we explored the small, quaint, trendy town of Fort Langley, browsing the shops and discovering a new brunch place which made its own jams and sauces, and baked lovely pastries. They even had a lovely gluten free scone for me.

We picked up dried cranberries and cranberry tea from our favorite shop, and took a few photos by the artist's murals.


The nearby playground had another artist's installation that added a stunning, playful splash of colour to the day. Hanging from wires you can't hardly see, were several dozen open umbrellas. Aren't they fun?

After that it was well past time to go home and chill. Well, home to A & R's  place. Joey loves relaxing there and Louise was happy to see them and get her own walk and snuggles.

That afternoon, Henry and I took a drive into the city to spend a couple hours at the Vancouver Christmas Market. We headed across the bridge as the sun was setting, navigated the maze of big city streets and were pleased to find on street parking right in front of the market.

This is an annual tradition, a German-themed craft and food market for artisans of all sorts, set up around the Olympic torch on the Vancouver waterfront. A carousel greets you at the entrance, and in the centre is a very tall (2-3 story) revolving pyramid, and a very tall Christmas tree. For more details, go here.

We loved our time, sampled Glühwein, enjoyed bratwurst, and selected some Christmas gifts. The view at night over the waterfront and the seaplane harbour is delightful. Then we returned to A & R's place for a final visit and fond farewell.

The next morning, we met Andrew's in-laws for a lovely visit and breakfast at the Hilltop Diner, a long time fixture on the old Fraser highway between Langley and Aldergrove. That is also a joy-filled experience, sharing comfort food, life experiences, and parenting stories about our two children whom we love.

Our journey home was quiet and uneventful. Any time we drive the 11 hours between Langley and Calgary, especially in the winter, it can be a hair raising experience, but once again, the roads were clear, and we made the trip in Godspeed. I drove from Sorrento to Golden while Henry caught up on the sleep lost due to the one hour time difference and early mornings.

All in all, a joyful weekend and terrific start to the Advent season. Thank you for sailing along with me. I hope your season is filled with similar times of family joy.

Merry Christmas!

Remember Whose You Are

She calls out to me as I dash out of the house. It is a blessing, benediction, warning, prayer, and goodbye. It is intentional, and it goes far beyond the fact that I am her child, that I belong to this family and we have certain requirements for behavior. It holds a far deeper meaning that touches on my conduct, purpose, and identity. It takes root deep in my mind and heart.

My mother's words echo at almost every departure: "Remember Whose you are."

It is more than who I am. It is the deepest core of my identity.
I belong to God.
I am God's child.
I am beloved by God.
I was bought with a price.
(more here)

Because of his love, God sent Jesus, his only begotten son, to die for me, to give eternal life.
Therefore, I matter.
I have a purpose.
How I live matters.
What I think matters.

My life has been exchanged for the life of Christ. I am a standard bearer for the name of my Saviour. Through his strength, I can reflect the love and light of the One who is my Life.
How I treat others.
What I contribute to the world.
The attitudes I cultivate.
How I steward my talents and resources.

Every good thing I am and have is a gift from the Father of Lights who is a good, good father. One who gives good gifts to his children. I am his.

Remember.

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith (by trust) in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. Galatians 2:20

Photo: Mom and I, 1959, from personal collection

Blue Monday Balderdash

There's no science behind Blue Monday. Invented as a self-marketing ploy by "happiness" *consultant, Cliff Arnall, it's a made up formula, factoring in the weather, debt, the amount of time elapsed since Christmas AND since we failed at our New Year's Resolutions plus general feelings of low motivation.

Gracious. The sky is falling. We're all doomed.

Here's a news flash: feelings of sadness and hopelessness are part of the human condition. They come and go. Just like happiness and euphoria.

Whatever you're looking for, you'll find.

Read that again.

Whatever you're looking for, you'll find.

Instead of giving in, weak-mindedly, to the confirmation bias of whatever is suggested by social media or the press, take control of your head and heart. Look for the beautiful gifts, large and small, right in front of you. And celebrate them.

#happybluemonday #blueismyfavoritecolor

*Consultants: "If you're not part of the solution, there's good money to be made in prolonging the problem."


Photo: depositphotos.com #61300799, standard license

I want to remember these moments

Rebecca asked if I could be in Langley by Monday before their Friday wedding. Less than a year before, she had stood by Andrew’s side at my wedding. Strange and wonderful, knowing we were all going to be family. Beside her stood her parents, my son’s soon to be in-laws, who really have been filling the gaps left by the distance between Calgary and Langley since Andrew first met them five years ago.

I love Bill and Karin. I love them for how they’ve loved on Andrew from the very beginning but I also really like them as individuals and as a couple. How they helped me out before we’d even met, getting Andrew’s vehicle from Salmon Arm back to Langley in August of 2011 (long story). Further, I respect them as business people and craftspeople and artists. Karin is a baker, working both for the restaurant they own and another early morning job elsewhere. Bill has been a restaurateur for many years, having spent a large part of his career setting up the restaurants in new Ikea stores. They now own Porter’s Bistro, a coffee and tea house, café, housed in a historic turn of the century building at Five Corners in historic Murrayville (on the east side of Langley). Bill is also an accomplished jazz musician, playing drums in a professional jazz trio and hosting live music every Friday and Saturday night at Porter’s.

Their hospitality comforts me and their faithful work ethic inspires me. This became even more evident in the months and days leading up to the wedding, on the day itself and the days afterward. Yes, it was their daughter’s wedding, and the bulk of the planning and coordinating had to be left to them because I was too far away to be of any practical help, other than holding a wedding shower in Calgary and helping with errands the week of the wedding - which I will get to in a future blog post - but first, the prep and pre-events.

In addition to the immediate family, including Julia, Rebecca’s sister, their aunt Ricky had volunteered to help coordinate many items related to the wedding and another extended family member on Bill’s side, Aunt Beverly, offered her assistance as a floral designer. Side note here: Beverly was using succulents as the primary “flower” in the décor and bouquets. Many of these were grown in her own garden and the gardens of other family members and four of them spent several days the week of the wedding gathering these from various gardens and putting together the floral décor. A labour of love, a beautiful result!

When I attended the family wedding shower for Rebecca and Andrew a few weeks prior, I got my first glimpse “behind the curtain” of the legacy of family and faith that have brought me to understand, even more, how and why Bill (from his Dutch ancestry) and Karin (from Danish parents) have become the amazing people they are. The entire experience has developed into a panorama of experiences that bolsters my belief in the legacy and constancy of loving family who set aside their personal preferences to come together to help and contribute to landmark events.

It started with an invitation in the mail, a hand made card. The shower was held in the home of Ricky, one of Bill’s sisters. The floral designer pinned a corsage on the bride to be, and we had a buffet of sweets, fruit, veggies and sandwiches to enjoy. One by one we shared one word we felt described Rebecca, each of these a blessing, a mirror back to her of what her life has meant to ours: as our lives have gathered these blessings like wildflowers, walking along life’s path with her. Aunt Elsje, Bill’s other sister, will incorporate these words into a wall hanging to remind Rebecca of the love shared around this intimate circle.

Gifts were precious. The ones that struck me were the more sentimental keepsakes: an elaborate and beautiful scrapbook from Elsje, filled with traditional family recipes. The first version of this gift had been destroyed in a tragic fire only a few weeks before. Her aunt was able to save the computer that held many of the photos and documents used in the making of the book and she worked long hours to recreate this heirloom gift in time for the shower. The same fire destroyed the work done on centerpieces for the wedding reception and these, too, were recreated in time for the wedding.

Another gift was a box of family heirlooms both old and new. It included hand-embroidered and edged linen napkins made by an ancestor, hand-tatted doilies, sachets, candles, heirloom candle holder and a “bouquet” of collector spoons from every country Rebecca and Andrew have each visited so far in their lives, collected and donated by family and friends from across the world. The gift box included many more items of poignant significance in Rebecca’s family history. A treasure box, indeed.

A special surprise came from Karin’s mother, Else Jensen, Rebecca’s grandmother. She crocheted a beautiful white wrap/shawl for Rebecca to wear on her wedding day if it got too cool. None of the family knew she was doing this and the needlework was so intricate and beautiful, the yarn so delicate and soft, it was an immediate heirloom – a treasure to keep for the ages.

As I recount these moments I want to remember, there are many more details, many more gifts, many more significant people, some details and names of which I may not have gotten straight or remembered accurately. If I have made any errors, let me know so I can correct them.

In recording these moments, I echo again what I did in an earlier post surrounding the events of the wedding: “Here I raise my Ebenezer, this far by God’s help I’ve come.”

So grateful,

Joyce

…to be continued

Retro Prospective

This morning my son and I shared the last pot of Kona coffee from a package I saved since our Hawaii trip last Christmas. One year ago, on the day I bought this luscious coffee, I never would have imagined how differently life would unfold in 2014.

It was a year of saying goodbye to…

• my 16 year old dog
• my roommate of eight months
• my son calling this his permanent residence
• singleness
• serving the unrealistic agendas of others
• my tightly held grasp on specific outcomes
• denial

It was a year of saying hello to...

• a full night’s sleep, almost every night
• what I truly wanted in a relationship
• a completely empty nest
• joy and peace and contentment and gratitude
• listening
• satisfaction
• marriage
• who I really want to be
• forgiveness
• acceptance
• laughter

I realize, in looking at this list, that most of these things said hello to me before I received them as gifts. And most have come within the context of relationship: with my new husband, with friends, with family, with the Lord.

None of these hellos or goodbyes were actually easy. I pondered long and hard about many, wrestled furiously (and repeatedly) with a few, some were forced on me, but most I had to choose. With intention, determination and/or surrender.

Few of these are a once-for-all, one-time event. Some take repetition, reminders, remembering that I’ve made the agreement to say yes or no. A few must be affirmed each morning, each evening.

We look at decluttering our homes. We understand getting rid of old habits. We think less often about decluttering our thinking and behavior or welcoming new scenarios and accepting joy without foreboding. It all shapes our lives into the most beautiful of realities: 

Living present in this moment, today.

Don’t make a future list of what needs to go away or come to your life. Promise yourself only one thing this year: be present. Speak it only to yourself. Promises spoken out loud trick the brain into thinking we've already accomplished what we've spoken and it releases the reward endorphin so we get the sense of accomplishment before the promise is actually fulfilled. Thus, we neglect to do the work necessary to actually keep our promise. Just whisper it to yourself: "Be present". In every moment, in every situation, in every joy, with every difficult person: be present, focused, attentive, fully engaged. Make this agreement with yourself. Honour yourself enough to keep your own solemn vow.

Release what you must.

Receive all that comes.

It’s the present.

The Black and White of Death and Life

This is the transcript of a devotional talk I gave tonight to the First Alliance Church Photography Group monthly meeting. I post it here by request for those who wish to read it again.

“There is a way that seems right to a man but the end thereof are the ways of death.” Prov. 14:12 KJV (There is a way that seems right to a woman also…)

What are “the ways of death”?  Things that cause death? Is this only spiritual? Let’s list a few:

• The thousands of choices that don't bring life
• Words that tear down
• Critical spirit
• Waste
• Sin
• Ingratitude
• Looks can kill
• Withdrawal
• Weapons
• Self-protection
• Covetousness
• Loneliness
• Depression
• Anxiety
• Comparison
• and more...

A college classmate of mine in a large town was recently found dead. He had passed away almost two weeks before, they think. His lack of close relationships, solitude and loneliness led to his death. Scientists say you can literally die of a broken heart. Emotional diseases can kill your “life” before your body ever takes its last breath.

I’m going to focus for just a moment on how “comparison” brings death. I personally believe comparison is the eighth deadly sin.

When I compare myself to others, two possible things happen. If I think myself "better", it can lead to a superiority attitude and condescension. If I view myself as "worse", it leads to humiliation, shame or covetousness.

Feeling like I’m better or like I’m worse are two sides of the same coin of pride. Heads or tails it's all the same: Heads I win, tails you lose. Heads you win, tails I lose.

We may have emotional or mental storehouses, hordes of “pride coins” - different denominations by which we compare ourselves to others.

The pennies of possessions.
The silver dollars of wealth.
The gold bullion of appearance.
The platinum of position.

Each, with purely symbolic face value, minted by the Kingdom of Self, hoarded in the Bank of My Own Mind. Tokens with no guarantee that debase another's currency. Or that minimize our value before God and others. Or that give us a sense that somehow we deserve to stand before a holy God.

Listen to this life-giving perspective from Romans 12:3 MSG:
"I’m speaking to you out of deep gratitude for all that God has given me, and especially as I have responsibilities in relation to you. Living then, as every one of you does, in pure grace, it’s important that you not misinterpret yourselves as people who are bringing this goodness to God. No, God brings it all to you. The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by what God is and by what God does for us, not by what we are and what we do for God."

I'm sort of on the flip side of the coin that what I bring isn't good enough (still another comparative term).  So many of us struggle with this basic lie in our lives: “Nothing I can do is ever good enough” or I am not pretty enough, thin enough, young enough, tall enough, rich enough, nice enough...  The end of it is simply, "I am not enough."

I struggle with this in photography. I know there are those of you who produce a much higher quality photograph, so I have to intentionally choose to offer what I can, from where I'm at, knowing that if I come to these monthly meetings and participate in the bi-weekly challenges in our Facebook group, I will learn something or possibly even help someone else. It is life-giving to participate in a community like this. Each of us has something to contribute. Each of us can learn from one another.

The best example of this is how the Body of Christ operates when it is healthy and all are exercising their God-given gifts. See the Apostle Paul’s take on this in 1 Corinthians 12 MSG:

“God’s various gifts are handed out everywhere; but they all originate in God’s Spirit. God’s various ministries are carried out everywhere; but they all originate in God’s Spirit. God’s various expressions of power are in action everywhere; but God himself is behind it all. Each person is given something to do that shows who God is: Everyone gets in on it, everyone benefits. All kinds of things are handed out by the Spirit, and to all kinds of people! The variety is wonderful:

• wise counsel
• clear understanding
• simple trust
• healing the sick
• miraculous acts
• proclamation…”

Here we see the list of the ways of life, rather than "the ways of death". Paul goes on:

“All these gifts have a common origin, but are handed out one by one by the one Spirit of God. God decides who gets what, and when.

“Think about how all this makes you more significant, not less. A body isn’t just a single part blown up into something huge. It’s all the different-but-similar parts arranged and functioning together… As it is, we see that God has carefully placed each part of the body right where he wanted it.”

I learn more of God by seeing how these gifts are used in each of you. So, no comparisons, okay? Respect the gifts, respect the Giver. Use your gifts, whatever they may be. You are right where God wants you. And God will be glorified.

Not Half

I’m not half a couple, I am a whole person. Always have been, just didn't recognize it some days.

There were many things I wanted to write, say and do before my husband died, but I felt those things might have embarrassed him, so I didn’t do them. Now that he is in heaven, I think he will understand. I can’t imagine what we do on earth has any comparable interest to those who are now perfectly whole in the presence of the creator of the universe and the lover of our souls, but if Brent does pay any mind, I really don’t think he will mind.

This gives a certain measure of freedom to work through some things that perhaps I couldn’t face before. I used to think I didn’t do some things out of respect for his feelings, but now standing here stripped bare of any excuses, I’m beginning to think perhaps I used Brent’s feelings as an excuse for not doing what I was called to do.

I also used to mentally blame my dad for some of my “father wounds” and my upbringing for some of the conservative view points that kept me silent in the church. I knew instinctively, sometimes explicitly, that my role in the church would be limited to speaking to women, caring for children or perhaps singing, if I was allowed. So, everywhere I turned,  it seemed men were in control of my destiny and were the limiting factor to me being able to exercise my greatest passion: sharing truth, beauty and love.

There were pastors and worship leaders, a father, seven brothers, a husband, even the scripture itself which I believed limited me in exercising my God-given gifts. I felt my life was akin to bringing my sacrifice to the altar and being told the altar was full or my gift wasn’t good enough. I wasted years licking my wounds and wrestling with God. Yet, I didn’t want to become this rebel who left the church and took my gifts elsewhere. So, I stayed in the church but I battled envy, jealousy, bitterness, resentment, all the time blaming others for why I couldn’t do what I felt called to do.

Then I read it: “Spiritual gifts are not gender-based.” And I realized that all of life is spiritual. “Secular” does not exist in the life of a Christ-follower. It is either all for Jesus or it is a sham.

Alone or together with others, I must write, sing, dance, speak, and do it all when and where God prompts me to do it. I am no longer crippled by thinking of myself as half of a couple. Married, widowed or single, I can begin where I am as a whole person, a cherished individual, beloved of God and part of God’s divine image, sent to share that vision of God with the world. The vision is incomplete without my part being fully engaged and delivered.

So no more excuses. No more barriers. No one to blame.

Ready, set….