When Change Comes

Impending storm, SE Calgary

It started. Without warning. Without ceremony. Hardhat workmen appeared overnight with orange vests and heavy machinery, just over the rise. Throat constricting with panic, I run to see.

I spend hours each week, wandering the shore of this pond, sharing sacred space with a chorus of Canada geese, crazy laughing loons and squawking gulls. One memorable series of days includes a migration of geese so dense the sky was dark with their waves. Wing upon wing, clouds lifting and lighting on the water. I photograph sunrise flamingo pink and purple, sunset blazing orange and fire, wildflowers on the bank framing wilderness pathway. I walk midst golden fall of aspen and birch, return to gentle waves lapping, worshipping the Creator of fowl and flora, earth and wind under bluebell sky.

Female Common Golden Eye with her brood of chicks, Carburn Park

Now standing on top of the rise, my worst fears are realized. I hear the death sentence declared with a loud roar from the backhoe as it digs a deep scar, tears into the heart of the rich black earth. The unspeakable is happening: the beautiful waterfowl refuge is being drained.

Pathway beside Bow River, Douglasdale

To be fair, it really wasn’t a protected area. Boundaried by two residential developments in a suburban area of the city, this unique parcel - adjacent to forest pathways and the Bow River - had long been zoned heavy industrial. And the body of water? Only a large settling pond for rock-washing runoff from the nearby cement plant. But the utilitarian had become utopian. A fixture befitting the small forest it bordered. A watery refuge for birds and stressed out humans.  Beauty out of ashes. Now it is being removed. Drained and filled with dirt for a new development.

Blood pumping, fire flashing in my temples, I call the community association.  Can I stop it? Protest? Rally the protesting power of Greenpeace or Ducks Unlimited?

“Not likely! Remington Developments is going ahead with the first stage of preparing the land for light industrial and residential use. It will be the largest urban development of its kind in Canada. There was an information session last week.”

Community information sessions are pretty low on my priority list. I’d missed it. Light industrial? What does that mean?

“It could mean small shops like automotive repair or something similar.”

I imagine it now. Waking up at 7 a.m. with the whine of an air gun or power torque wrench removing lug nuts from a tire, carbon monoxide from idling cars, black smoke from blown engines billowing behind my back yard.

I call the neighborhood realtor.

“I’m going to have to sell and move. How much did I just lose in my property value?”

“Well,” he says, “the value of your house is quite imaginary until you put it on the market. It’s worth what someone is willing to pay. What’s happening over the rise may seem bad right now, but really, based on the type of development being planned, you should actually see an increase in your property value once the development is finished.”

“How long will that take?” I ask. I don’t really believe him, but I’m still listening.

“Oh, maybe five or more years.”

I sigh. Swallow my pride. Decline his offer of a free home estimate. Take a Tylenol for the pounding behind my eyes. Try to rest. Dream of how it used to look.

A nearby lake in Carburn Park is still accessible 

We do move. Sell the house at double the price we paid only five years earlier. Move into a slightly older but immaculate home with a wonderful mountain view. I’m still walking distance to the river, so I couldn’t be happier.

Fast forward five years.

Today we drove through Quarry Park. Once I got over my resistance to change, we have watched with great curiosity what was rising from the dregs of my favorite pond. Elegant glass, steel and stone office buildings no more than three stories high, landscaped with fountains and flower, with thematic names like “Central Campus” and “Quarry Park West”. Upper middle class residential homes and townhomes in tudor style with rear garages, all in soothing dark neutrals and beautiful sandstone. Retail and restaurant area with our favorite grocery and eating places, a salon spa and—of course—a Starbucks™. Walking pathways, green space, resting benches alongside a lagoon and creek which intersect the center of the development. Executive apartments and a high-end condo development aptly named “Champagne” – penthouse units run nearly $1 million each.

The ugly cement plant has been dismantled. No trace remains. Land is designated for a community recreational complex. Further north, warehouse space is tucked in a discreet area well hidden from residential view. Adjacent older industrial buildings have been decommissioned and moved to a new building further from the roadway. What was a narrow, bumpy, poorly maintained city street is now being widened to four lanes, providing ease of access north and south. Not a single automotive repair shop in sight.

“This is one beautiful development,” my husband exclaims. “It has really improved the entire community.”

I have to agree. Five years earlier, my panic, anger and despair was based on wanting things to stay as they were. What I saw as disaster has, in five short years, become a blessing. I didn’t know what the developer had in mind, so I couldn’t grasp the enormous benefit was going to come from losing my favorite pond.

Perhaps I should remember this lesson for other areas of life. My loving Creator has a greater blueprint for benefits to bestow on my life. What may seem tragic could actually be the beginning of one of the biggest developments in my life. 

As we pass the lagoon, two Canada geese landed softly on the water. The sun reflects a brilliant Alberta sky, and the soft breeze seemed to whisper with a divine accent:

“Trust me.”

Sunset on Pond

Photo credits: Personal collection

Back-Ordered Gratitude

I return to the blog after a stressful week to name gifts, wondering, if I had kept naming them daily, if the stress might not have been so great. However, when the well is dry, to try to be grateful in the tsunami of stress seems as inappropriate as conjuring up water with a divining rod. Here are free and unencumbered gifts seen in the past couple of days:

279. A day trip to the mountains. Calm water. Mt. Rundle.

280. A brief view of wildlife, reminding me of the scripture song: "As the deer pants for the water, so my soul longs after (the Lord)... He alone can satisfy". And he alone restores my soul.

281. Just enough melt on Johnson Lake to get a reflecting photo, a quiet moment and a near-spill into the water when I slipped on the bank. Didn't get all wet, just a wee bit muddy.

Ann's list today: fragile things...

282. I give thanks for a fragile ego. God always tells me to bring it to him to fix and it's a little smaller each time he repairs it.

283. The tire stem leaking air, gratitude for the air pump nearby.

284. Democracy is fragile. A little fear mongering, a little intimidation, a little bullying, and all of a sudden this bold woman doesn't want to take a public stand. I'm grateful I still have the right to vote, in private, without fear - knowing it is the Lord who raises up one and takes down another.

Some Days are Diamonds, Some Days are Coal

I know that's not how the song goes, but it fits. Today I was a coal miner. The pressure wasn't quite intense enough to produce diamonds, but it was a really, really hard day at work and I just felt like I spent 18 hours in the pitch black with only a pick axe and my weakening headlamp to light the work. I kept my mouth shut pretty much and just bore down and pressed through. I nearly coughed up a lung when the stress made my hiatal hernia bring up supper.

I am still going to name gifts, though I'm skipping Ann's list today because I didn't see anything bloom.

275. My son's crippled MacBook Pro was repaired, thanks to the discs I sent via Priority Post arriving today and a kind soul at Apple Care walking him through an obscure restart option that enabled him to repair the errors. Maybe Mom couldn't fix it, but I helped. And I prayed. Best fix ever.

276. I finally had the courage to say no to someone who sideways-delegates work they had been asked to do. Yes, I know grammatically I should specify he or she but I prefer to not make this too easy to identify. Let's just say it wasn't a staff member. I stood my ground because I'm already doing two jobs. Taking on another task was impossible. There are times when saying "No" is the right thing to do, even if it makes someone else's life a little bit more complicated.

277. I cooked quinoa for my supper. Alongside lemon-dill salmon, it was lovely. I love my rice cooker. Finished the quinoa perfectly, with two additional servings left for lunches.

278. I spoke out generally about those who lose their sanctification when cheering for their sports team. Sometimes you need to shine that dimming headlamp so someone else can see they are just making them selves look dirty.

Busy Thanks

I continue naming 1,000 gifts in 2012. Is it possible to be too busy to be grateful? Here I am, catching up again, but it is good to give thanks. Any time. Any day.

3 Gifts Waited For, April 7

262. An appointment with a nutritionist to deal with newly identified food intolerances.

263. Time to write.

264. Repeatedly singing the song: “We Will Wait” by Amanda Falk in preparation for singing it solo on Sunday.

3 Gifts Rising Up, April 8

265. Standing up to praise in harmony with my husband and long time friend.

266. Waking to Easter morning, all life begun anew

267. A chance to help my son with a computer problem. I'm so glad he asked.

A Gift Hiding, Held, Heard, April 9

268. I looked long and hard for a receipt in order to activate my birthday gift from December (iPad2). The receipt still hides, but the gift in looking was that I know where so many other things are hiding now.

269. I held my iPad2, finally deciding to activate the data plan and begin using it regularly. It meant a trip to the Apple store to get a proper SIM card. 

270. “You don’t need your receipt for that.” –Apple Store rep

3 Gifts Opened Up, April 10

271. The front door to a clean house when I came home. Thankful for people who love to clean for a living.

272. The ears of colleagues who are open to receive input and engage in constructive dialogue.

273. The words and hearts of five other women around my dinner table tonight, giving and receiving the gift of affirmation: what we have meant to each other and how each one has grown in their life and faith in the past seven months.

Related:
274. My husband willingly giving me space to entertain my group of women. 

Question: Who needs your affirmation today? What if the only people who will be here tomorrow are the ones you told "Thanks" today?

Garrison Keillor: He does good work

Image linked from Wikipedia bio on Keillor

Garrison Keillor of A Prairie Home Companion has done more to encourage my love and knowledge of poetry than any other person. I owe him a debt of gratitude for an expanded life. His "Good Poems" books are generous and delightful collections of poems all of us should know and read often. In his public radio program, The Writers Almanac, Keillor consistently presents solid, accessible poetry. The spot is transcribed and accessible online or via email. It is an email subscription I enjoy daily.

Besides a poem, Keillor includes one or two background pieces on writers or other famous individuals. Today's Almanac struck me as particularly poignant. A poem about so much more than aging, "Old Guys" by Wesley McNair and a piece about the surrender at Appomattox which ended the Civil War.

I recommend it to you. A brief journey into history, even emotion, that will leave you better for having visited. Click here to read or listen.

Garrison Keillor is added as gift 261 as I continue naming 1,000 gifts in 2012.


Question: What public figure has expanded your life?

April Gifts

I continue naming 1,000 gifts in 2012

3 Gifts round, April 1
237. The moon. Full and white.
238. The way my dog curls to sleep.
239. The tires that bear me to work.

3 Gifts white, April 2
240. The fresh snow.
241. The light of my monitor.
242. The hair of wiser women.

3 Gifts surprisingly found, April 3
243. A beautiful song to sing - from a friend.
244. Three part harmony - how much I've missed it.
245. Food intolerance identified. Now I avoid those and I feel better.

3 Gifts in His Word, April 4
246. Resurrection in Luke 24
247. My life is hid with Christ in God. Col. 3:3
248. If we get included in Christ's sin-conquering death, we also get included in his life-saving resurrection. (Romans 6:8 MSG)

3 Gifts: at 11 a.m., 2 p.m., 6 p.m., April 5
249. At 11: A smile with two of the women from Bible study.
250. At 2: Finishing lunch to celebrate my boss's birthday.
251. At 6: Heading off with my husband to the hockey game. Our team won.

3 Gifts nailed together, April 6
252. The coffee table upon which I prop my feet.
253. The house in which I sit.
254. The cross upon which my sins are nailed.

And this moment, the end of the movie, a happy ending, a difficult movie to watch: War Horse.
The gifts of
255. courage,
256. perseverance,
257. love,
258. loyalty,
259. excellence,
260. miracles.

Sing, Speak, Write, Paint

I woke with a desperate melancholy this morning, and so I return to gaze on beauty and continue naming 1,000 gifts in 2012.

233. A gift sung
Yesterday at the memorial service for my good friend, Carole, her favorite worship leader led us in “Blessed Be the Name”. This was a song which I sang the weekend my father passed away. I remember that comfort as a gift each time I hear the song. The truth of the song is that God gives and takes away and I choose to speak the truth, that either scenario is a blessing intended for my good and his glory.

234. A gift written
My father was a songwriter. He wrote these song lyrics: “Forget not all his benefits, my soul bless thou the Lord. Review his tender mercies and the comfort of his word. Remember well the greatest of the gifts that he has given: eternal life through Christ our Lord and citizenship in heaven.” These include a reference to Psalm 103:2. I recommend the entire Psalm to you.

235. A gift painted
My friend, Michele Bailey, shared the room across the hall from me during my last semester of college 2,000 kms from here. We have remained friends. We now live within 15 minutes of each other and she has become quite the painter. She did a commissioned work for us last year based on a photograph I took of Upper Kananaskis Lake from Mt. Indefatigable (see picture above). Each time I look at the painting I think of my friendship with Michele, how God orchestrated our lives to live near each other, and the blessing that we continue to be in each other's lives.

236. A gift spoken - an incredible gift to me this morning...
This video is excellent and well worth the 43 minutes to view. John Lynch speaks about what could be the most profound decision you will make in your life: “There are two roads at an intersection, the road to pleasing God and the road to trusting God. You can only choose one.” –John Lynch, The Cure

Questions: What have you sung, read, heard or seen today that was a gift?

3 Things Salty, Sweet, Just Right and more

I continue the Joy Dare: Naming 1,000 gifts in 2012 

Today was "Greek Day" at the Women's Time Out where I work. The first three gifts came from these lovely ladies.

225. First, I witnessed them learning to dance like Zorba the Greek. Laughter, exercise, and fun! It was a "just right" gift.

226. Next, they gave me a plate of Greek food samples. The one most unique was Dolmathakia me Kima (Stuffed Grape Leaves). I can't say that it was particularly "salty", but it was the first experience I've had with anything wrapped in a grape leaf. Variety is the spice (or salt) of life.
227. Sweet: A lovely bite-sized sampling of baklava. Perfect, "sweet" ending to a delightful morning.

228. Snowy. The weather... my goodness! It snowed all morning. I went home, shoveled the driveway and walk - got some good exercise - went inside to have lunch, came back out and voila! the clouds broke and the sun shone. Scant residue of snow had melted.

229. I love my job. Most days. And usually the days I don't are the ones where outside influences are pushing their stressful ways into the job hours. On the rare occasion, the mundane duties require me to buck up and do the task - reminding myself always that there is a rhythm of life that allows "a time for everything" and the littlest task, when done to the glory of God, becomes an offering of worship.

230. My son is on the plane, winging his way homeward. Four short days to be with family. My heart is full.
231. Looking forward to a mini-reunion of sorts with in-laws around meals and a theatrical production this weekend. Music, food and family - almost like a Greek wedding! What could be better?

232. A multitude of affirmations this week from those whom I led in songs of worship this past Sunday.

Grateful. Humbled. Tired. Sad. Rejoicing. Yes, all those emotions can co-exist at the same time.

What are your gifts today? Did you notice them?

 

3 Things That Made Me Laugh

I continue the Joy Dare: Naming 1000 gifts in 2012:

222. My dog daughter's crazy, Tigger-like energy after grooming today. She bounced all over the vehicle,  then she collapsed, totally exhausted, when we got home.

223. Reminiscing with a friend... how Carole used to respond when I'd tease her: "Oh, you!" and she would dismiss my silliness with a wave of her hand as she chuckled.

224. How easily I cry. This is cathartic. It is good.

A Week in the Life

I continue the Joy Dare: Naming 1000 gifts in 2012:

217. One of my best friends died this week. She was a gift, taken sooner than I desire. The gift she left me was the example of perseverance, creativity, contentment, selflessness and encourager. She left people with a sense of their own value in the way she valued them.

218. My dog came through anesthetic and dental surgery with flying colors. She has a new lease on life.

219. Denise Hearn of the Calgary Pregnancy Care Centre spoke on Pornography: Why Christians Should Care" in church this morning. Eye opening. For more see http://exposecalgary.com

220. I led worship this morning at the church where I work. Great musicians joined me.

221. The guitar amp quit in between rehearsal and the service. I had given this all to the Lord so no need to worry. What a gift.

House Guest, Habits and Health

I continue the Joy Dare: Naming 1000 gifts in 2012.

207. It was a gift to give a cup of cold water to someone who asked. They were walking in the park and passed by my workplace. She needed to take a pill, I was glad I could assist. On the rare occasions when I give a cup of cold water to someone in need, I always whisper: "In the name of Jesus".

208. It was an absolute gift to have the son of friends come stay with us while he is taking a First Aid course. We had a wonderful time sharing about the Lord, his song writing and music leading, Narnia books, spiritual friendships, worshipping God.

209. It was a gift to speak seriously with a long time friend about a habit I need to change. A true friend doesn't pull punches. They tell it like it is. And I can hear them because I know they love me, they aren't just telling me what they think I want to hear or what they think is "right", they are speaking God's very truth.

210. It was a gift, that in a round-about way, Kony 2012 and a physically challenged woman helping care for orphans in Sudan have led me back to reconnecting with an in-town friend for lunch. I look forward to what other surprises will come.

211. A hard gift is the engine light staying on in my vehicle. Deciding whether to take it to the shop where I bought it, or to the dealer who knows the vehicle inside out. Knowing I've only had it four months. This is an opportunity to trust God.

212. My dog will have dental surgery Friday. Veterinarians are a gift. Having one close by is a bonus.

213. Antibiotics are a gift. They will hopefully begin to cleanse the infection in my dog's mouth before the surgery commences.

214. Health. Not being sick is such a gift. I am grateful I do not currently have to be on any medication or supplements. I generally feel well, so when my heart wouldn't slow down after exertion this afternoon, it was a red flag.

215. My body tells me when I need to relax.

216. Surprises. I love surprises. Each one is a gift. Lord, help me thank you for every surprise, even if it doesn't come wrapped as one of My Favourite Things. Help me to see your hand as the giver who only gives good gifts.

Simple Gratitude

Quick and easy tonight. Counting 1000 Gifts:

204. I am grateful for the gift of a soft, thick, terrycloth towel after a rejuvenating shower.
205. I am grateful for the absorbent towels that dry my dog and mop up messes.
206. I am grateful for the towel Jesus tied around his waist when he humbled himself to wash feet and set an example of how we are to serve and make ourselves of "no reputation".

Hard to Give Thanks

Image from stock.xchng

Who can't you forgive? Why can't I? I have someone I need to forgive every single day. You too? And I'm certain there is someone in my life who needs to forgive me every single day.

A discussion on a pastor's Facebook status today was in regards to forgiveness. If I don't forgive, God won't forgive me, this was the conclusion. I think the order is, however, that God has forgiven me, therefore, I must forgive.

I will forgive. It may take longer than I would like for me to get there. God may need to show me my reticence. I have forgiven in many situations. There are one or two remaining and new ones that surface from time to time. He may need to discipline me in ways that reveal my unforgiveness, but ultimately, since I am forgiven, since Christ is my life, I must, will, shall forgive. I am not alone in this effort. The power of Christ. The very Spirit of Christ who said "Love your enemies" and "forgive those who trespass against you" - this is the life I now live.

This is hard for me on so many levels. It requires death to self.

My human nature wants to rise. My "rights" are trampled and I feel resentment. My abilities are spurned for another's and I am envious. My needs go unmet and I am angry. These are the things for which I must give thanks.

Amanda Lindhout was kidnapped and held captive by Islamist insurgents in southern Somalia. She was held for 15 months, released in November 2009 when her family paid the ransom. She is now a sought-after speaker on the topics of forgiveness, compassion and social responsibility. She refuses to discuss the specific details of what happened to her in captivity.

However, a colleague of mine heard her speak recently and quoted Amanda as saying in her windowless prison where she was shackled alone in the dark for 10 months, she sought out something every day which she could count as a gift. If the guards handed her food instead of throwing it at her, that was a gift.

There was much more but it is not my story to tell. My story tonight is to find gifts that are hard to name as gifts. It is a little easier after hearing Amanda Lindhout's story. If she can find gifts in captivity, I better find them in my life.

Okay then. Let's get to it.

198. It is a gift that I am no longer invited to sing on worship teams in my church.
199. It is a gift to have someone in my life who doesn't share. This creates a lack in me. It is a vacant gift.
200. It is a gift to work full time. The hard part is to say it is a gift to not have my days free to do with as I would wish.

201. On the flip side, I can sing any time I please. No platform is necessary.
202. An unfilled hole is a space into which I can welcome the spirit of Christ. He offers to fill me to overflowing.
203. And being focused at work means that my time is spent in ministry instead of self-perpetuating indulgences. I think less of me and more of others.

Silence, vacancy and a lack of leisure can be turned into freedom, filling and giving - if I am willing.
Can I learn to say with the apostle:

I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. -Phil. 4:11-13

Question: Do you readily forgive? What helps you get there faster? If you're hanging on to unforgiveness,  what would it take to change your mind?

Places I Love

191. The views are wonderful. Here is La Grande Arche and La Défense near sunset, photographed from the top of the Arc de Triomphe de l'Étoile, Paris.

192. Smith-Dorien/Spray Lakes Trail, Kananaskis. Looking northwest toward Ha Link peak above Canmore, Alberta

193. Paragliding in the Lauterbrunnen Valley in the Swiss Alps, we lift off above Murren

194. Seeing from a bird's eye view. Read the story of the day I flew.

195. Back home, Upper Kananaskis Lake from Mt. Indefatigable

196. The beach in Florida

197. Anywhere with my family

I am grateful for the joy of beauty and relationships.

Question: What are your favourite places? 

March on with the Joy Dare

My three gifts at three o'clock today included:

185. Finding the March Joy Dare page.
186. Securing a plumber in a hurry to fix a leak.
187. Texting with my son who is on a road trip in California.
188. And, dear Ann Voskamp, you are a gift. Thank you for the lists and the suggestions of 3 each day.
189. My small group was a gift tonight. Wise, caring, funny. A blessing.
190. James 3:17-18 which helps us understand what real wisdom is and what it accomplishes:

Real wisdom, God's wisdom, begins with a holy life and is characterized by getting along with others. It is gentle and reasonable, overflowing with mercy and blessings, not hot one day and cold the next, not two-faced. You can develop a healthy, robust community that lives right with God and enjoy its results only if you do the hard work of getting along with each other, treating each other with dignity and honour. James 3:17-18 MSG


Question: How do you think gratitude can help cultivate Godly wisdom?

Multitudes on Monday

I don't have to look at the prompt list today. I have several things that were gifts today.

176. A nurse took my blood sample and it was COMPLETELY painless. You've no idea how much of a gift this is. It has never happened before. Always painful, always multiple attempts. Not today.
177. I got a walk in appointment to see the eye doctor and he referred me to a specialist re: my eye strain.
178. Free hockey tickets.
179. Another night out with my guy.
180. The Spirit of perseverance that pulled me out of a dark blue funk and back into productivity.
181. The husband cleaning the kitchen right now.
182. The fatigue I feel so that I will go straight to bed and hopefully sleep through the night.
183. Quiet time to work.
184. Our son texting us his status updates. Made it to California and is having fun tenting, despite the rain.

Glazed Eyes and Glazed Donuts

When I walk into any Krispy Kreme, taste the free sample and see their donut-making system, I am eight years old again. They make their donuts exactly like the donut factory in my home town.

It is 1965. We go to church whenever the doors open. Sunday morning. Sunday evening. Wednesday night prayer meeting. Sunday lunch is pot roast so tender it falls apart under my fork. It is always my favorite meal. We ride borrowed bikes to the creek and float boats, wade up to our knees and look for crawdads. We chase fireflies after dark and capture them in glass quart jars.

Wednesday night we always take the same way home from church, down College Street on Route 66, past Dairy Queen. It is 1965, well before DQ Brazier was introduced in our town. All this DQ sells is ice cream and Mister Misty. We don’t stop every week. It is a special treat and it is still a mystery to me what makes one week a drive by and another week a stop for a Dilly Bar, ice cream sandwich or chocolate dipped cone.

But some nights. Ah, that special, magical night when we stop next door at the donut factory. My father and one or two of the older boys go inside. The front retail room is no larger than 12x12 feet, with a rounded glass front display case containing donuts. The fresh baked smell of sweetness is mesmerizing. Dad orders a dozen glazed.

I stay outside. There may have been others beside me. Steve or Paul, my closest brothers in age, perhaps Momma is nearby but I don’t notice. I am alone in my wonder at this amazing factory as if Willy Wonka himself is giving me a tour. I press my nose against the glass and blinder my eyes with my hands from the glare of the streetlight.

Looking back through the large, high-ceilinged room, I spy an odd machine in the middle of the concrete floor. It has strange dough hooks and a large stainless steel bowl big enough to bathe in. It looks very much like a giant KitchenAid mixer. Sometimes I see a baker in white pants, shirt, black belt and paper hat add ingredients and start those strange hooks moving. Sometimes the batch is ready and he lifts the hooks out of the vat and moves the dough to a stainless steel funnel-like dispenser that squeezes perfect dough circles onto trays in orderly rows of 4 or 5. They rise, and when ready, the trays are transferred to a conveyor belt and the magic begins.

The conveyor moves slowly along the west wall and the dough circles slide down a short ramp into their first bath of hot oil. The forward motion keeps them moving slowly like swimmers in an Iron Man, liquid bubbling all around. After about three feet or 10 seconds, slender rotating prongs lift the donuts, gently flipping them 180 degrees onto their backside into the next bath of oil, revealing a perfectly tanned belly.

They bump and bob slightly and keep on moving. After another 10 second float trip, more rotating prongs lift the uniformly browned batch up and over onto a mesh conveyor belt which turns continuously like tracks on a tank. The entire belt makes a 90 degree turn to the east right in front of the window and my salivating mouth, as it heads for the jackpot: a waterfall of glaze.

I stand directly in line with the glaze dispenser, dream of lying my body down on the conveyor belt, face up, mouth open, going under that curtain of sticky sweetness head first to drink my fill. I shake my head and watch spellbound as each donut emerges, perfectly coated, glistening with glaze.

The conveyor curves sharply south now, away from my front window vantage point to begin a climb up, up, up a long ramp. As the warm, plump donuts rise slowly to the heavens, a large-blade fan spins quickly overhead, drying the glaze to a crackled translucent layer. It's like they are finishing a ride at Disneyland. Perhaps they are smiling. I know I am. Sometimes, if we are very fortunate with our timing, the clerk will go into the factory and fill the Dad’s order directly off the rising ramp with the warm, fresh donuts.

Today the Springfield Donut Factory is long gone from College Street. Only my memories and DQ managed to survive. The building is still there but the plate glass windows are bricked up and Farr’s Westside Automotive has moved in. Still, at the first bite of a glazed donut, I am eight years old on a Wednesday night after prayer meeting, face pressed against the glass, eyes glazed with delight, giving warm, mouth-watering, sticky-sweet thanks.

A gift new, made do, worn out, and a bonus...

171. A gift new: Silver space-age-esque cylindrical containers which have spring-loaded pumps which dispense the salt and pepper. I hesitate to use new contraptions like this. But they look cool.

172. A gift made-do: A parking spot at the hockey game tonight. We made do because it was as far from the arena as one could park and still be in the lot. We had to walk quite a distance in the cold with wet, blowing snow beating at our faces, however, exercise is good, the snow wasn't deep and the location of the parking spot at the faraway end made the easiest exit from the crowd of 19,000 we've ever had, with no line up at all.

173. A gift nearly worn out: Singing by ear. I've been doing it since birth. In my previous post, the picture reminds me of when I first discovered that not everyone can harmonize by ear. I grew up doing it because it was what we did in my family. But we also knew how to read music. Twelve years of piano lessons and 10 years of choir ensured that. Perhaps hanging around those that harmonized by ear made it possible for me to do it too. Perhaps there is something in how we are wired. I just still remember my astonishment at discovering some very accomplished musician who couldn't. Yet. Kind of like me learning how to be grateful. Haven't quite got the gist of it but I keep practicing. Sometimes it's off key but it's more grateful than the past. Practice makes permanent.

174. A bonus gift: Listening to Eric Metaxas speak at the Feb. 2 Presidential Prayer Breakfast. In this video, his talk begins at 35:00 minute mark and ends at 1:05. He draws a clear dividing line between what is a false picture of God painted by dead religion vs. the reality of Jesus being exactly what our hearts long for. Funny, poignant, profound.

175. Another bonus: I sat down at the piano today. I have only done that once or twice in the past six years. I played one of my father's songs. The older I get, the more I realize what he must have struggled through. Makes it easier to forgive him for what he didn't (couldn't?) give me. His music lingers as a testament to his struggle to honour God and sustain faith.

"I can't help but love you," God whispers. "Trust me."

Question: As you mature, have your eyes been opened to a clearer understanding of why others may not be able to do what comes rather easily to you?

Music. Music. Music.

To sing is joy. As I continue to number 1000 gifts, I can't believe it's been almost two months before music surfaced in the gratitude list.

168. Music. We had the gift of two amazing people express interest in the Worship Director vacancy at the church where I work.

169. Music. I listened to Kathryn Scott. She sings the Spirit.

170. Music. My desire for singing again is so strong, I think it's time. Singing is where I feel most alive. To be able to sing is a value that exceeds anything else. To sing for the creator of the universe, that is the greatest gift.

Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet. Those who wish to sing always find a song. ~Plato

Question: What makes you come alive?

Joy Dare: Three Gifts that Changed Today

165. It started with gratitude for my husband's kindness. It kept my mind thinking about it all day.
166. A text message from a long-time friend to have dinner - which we did - such a treat.
167. The beginning of Lent, the reading reminds me about aligning myself with God's purpose in the world. For Lent, I am giving up expressing my opinions. What I think has absolutely no ability to change life or give dignity. What I do and what I allow God to do through me - now, that has power.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Those things, which ye have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen in me, DO: and the God of peace shall be with you. Phil. 4:8-9 NIV

Question: Do you observe Lent? How does it shape your thinking? Your actions?