A Year in the Life: 2018

Riding the Model T Ford at Greenfield Village

What I would tell you over a cup of coffee as I show you my photo album:

I am not an exceptional person. I am average, sometimes strong, sometimes helpless, desperately clutching on to an exceptional God. And when I'm unable to hold on, God still holds me.

I don't post many of my dark moments here. I don't usually tell you about my mistakes or the nightmares or how I am up and down some nights, especially when the wind howls. But I will tell you those times are getting less often, Part of the reason for that is I am finally learning to trust and rely on the love, care and encouragement from our dear friends and family members. We have seen so many of you this year that I hesitate to include pictures for fear of leaving someone out. Please, if you have one of us together, send it to me, yes?

When the dark times do come, and friends may not be immediately available, I know beyond any doubt that God is with me through it all, whether or not I feel it. I am learning to choose to TRUST this truth, that's why "trust" is my #oneword for 2019.

I have finally made it through my 2018 Joy Jar, then I browsed through my photos for the year and filled in some significant blanks. Not everything made the list, but I'd like to tell you about some of them. But, please keep something in mind if you choose to walk down this pathway of past days with me. Our human tendency is to compare our worst moments to someone else's highlight reel.

Please don't.

Each of us lives out our life and our calling as faithfully as we are able, as best as we can manage. There are fits and starts, there are dark days I wouldn't share with my best friend. So rejoice with me, for I have found joy in all sorts of places, mostly because I'm learning to look for it everywhere.

Playing Azul at Boardwalk in Abbotsford

Games We Played:
We love to play board games and card games. Some favorites include Crokinole, Dixit, Five Crowns, and Crib. This year Andrew and Rebecca introduced us to Azul, and Azul 2: Stained Glass of Sintra. We had fun learning the party game Code Names with LeBlancs and crew on New Years Eve.

Marcel Dionne at his diner in Niagara Falls

Memorable Restaurants:
Who doesn't love to eat, and the more amazing the flavors or atmosphere, the better we like it. Some of our favorites in Calgary include Ten Foot Henry, Rouge, Seasons of Bowness Park, Smugglers Inn, Vintage Chophouse (Calgary), Heartland Café (Okotoks), The Italian Farmhouse (Bragg Creeg).

The rest of this list comes from a little further afield, from our road trips this year. If you're ever in these areas, be sure to try these places: Porter's Bistro (Langley), Saba (Ft. Langley), Elizabeth’s Chalet (Surrey), Glass House Winery (Langley Twp), Hilltop Café (Langley Twp), Avishan Authentic Middle East Grill (Langley), Smith & Wolensky (Chicago), Lou Malnati’s Pizzeria (Naperville), Schmidt’s Sausage Haus in the German Village (Columbus, OH), The Blueline Diner (Niagara Falls. ON where the owner, famous hockey legend, Marcel Dionne was bussing tables because it's his place and they were short staffed that day!), Buddy’s Pizza (Livonia, MI), Bavarian Inn (Frankenmuth, MI), and finally, one we completely stumbled over on our long drive home: Doncker’s (Marquette, MI).

Cinema:
Of course, who doesn't love a good movie. It's been a while since I've seen one I'd rate 5/5, and only one did that for me this year. Here's my completely arbitrary and subjective personal ratings based on how intensely moved I was, the relative importance of the story themes, and the special effects/stunts/cinematography. Tell me, did I miss one you think is a must-see?

The Darkest Hour 4/5
The Greatest Showman 3/5
Paul, Apostle of Christ 4/5
The Black Panther 3/5
Star Wars: Solo 3/5
Incredibles 2  2/5
Mamma Mia  3/5
Christopher Robin 5/5
Mission Impossible: Fallout 4/5
Robin Hood 3/5
Mary Poppins Returns (VIP Experience) 3/5

Live Theatre/Concerts:
This is by far the most interesting part of entertainment in my book. Real people, singing, acting, dancing, playing. Human expertise at its best or in its infancy, quality live performances resonate deeply with me.

In February, for Black History Month, we attended the 32nd Annual Gospel Concert in Edmonton at the Northern Alberta Jubilee Auditorium. A packed program with hundreds of performers in dozens of choirs and bands.

In March and April we visited Rosebud twice: once for the hilarious and incredible one man show, Wingfield’s Inferno and next for the endearing and funny Driving Miss Daisy.

On April 24, The Tallis Scholars, were the height of classical music, performing at Bella Concert Hall at Mount Royal University. "The Tallis Scholars have done more than any other group to establish sacred vocal music of the Renaissance as one of the great repertoires of Western classical music." Their close a capella harmony is an "exclusive sound, praised by reviewers for its supple clarity and tone, and to bring fresh interpretations to music" new and old.

 

Joel solos at Louis Riel Band Concert

Celebrating with the Warrens and Wynnes after Youth Singers

The spring and Christmas time also brought out school concerts and Youth Singers. We are privileged to be friends with several very talented young people whose concerts and plays we frequent with pleasure. We thrilled to Joel Warren's jazz trumpet at the Louis Riel Band concerts, Amy Warren's delightful performances in Lights on Broadway and Falaland with the Calgary Youth Singers, and Nicole Aronitz as a stunning Peter Pan at David Thompson School.

We of course love classic rock and music of all sorts, so were thrilled to take in The Eagles with Vince Gill and get our first look at the new Rogers Centre in Edmonton. We also loved attending an Andrew Allen house concert hosted by my friend Catherine Cadman, who also introduced me to the Calgary Women's Chorus at their outstanding Christmas concert. One other notable event was Wonder and Gloria by the First Alliance Church choir and orchestra.

Humberto Vargas directs Vivaldi's Gloria

Best of all are the plays and musicals. Henry played one of the Inklings (C.S. Lewis and friends) in a terrific production of Shadowlands. On our very short stopover in Chicago this summer, we were able to see Hamilton, the Broadway Musical, at the historic 1906 CIBC Theatre. The same day we were also able to score tickets to see 84 year old Carol Burnett, live at the Chicago Theatre. We also loved Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat in Rosebud; the Canadian Badlands Passion Play, Drumheller; and finishing off the musicals was The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, First Alliance Church.

The Inklings from Shadowlands

(back row): Brad McDowell, Frances Taman, Al Hall

(front) Greg McCombs as C.S. Lewis, Adam Ward, Henry Rempel

We finished out the last quarter of the year with a play every month. The captivating Every Brilliant Thing was presented on the Engineered Air Stage (Arts Commons, Calgary). This one-woman show involved audience participation and dealt with the subject of suicide in a helpful, uplifting and informative way. I am deeply grateful to the writers, the actor, and the joint sponsorship by Fire Exit Theatre and Burnt Thicket Theatre.

Finally, Christmastime was completed with Rosebud's show: Sherlock Holmes & the Case of the Christmas Carol, a classic retelling of the classic story where Holmes is the Scrooge-like character. We finished the season with the traditional rendition of A Christmas Carol at Theatre Calgary.

Cathy and Peggy join me at Passion For Glass Gallery & Studio

Artistic Ventures:
This year, in addition to my photography and graphic arts, I took several needlecraft "sampler" workshops, had an unfortunate experience in glass fusing at franchise shop, so tried again at the studio of a glass artisan with my friends Cathy and Peggy. The second attempt went very well and I will return! Pamela came down from Sherwood Park the fall for our annual girls' weekend and we both tried our hand at watercolour painting. It wasn't quite the beginner's level advertised, but we had a few laughs and learned a bit.

Well I have to try to start wrapping things up here. Significant people returned to our life: Steve and Lisa LeBlanc came back from Winnipeg and Oly and Dianne Boersma moved back from the Netherlands. We've spent many occasions with each, as well as celebrating the following events:

Henry chats with the teamster while harvesting barley by horse drawn cutter at the Bar U

 Goat on the sod roof at Old Country Market in Coombs, BC

Significant Firsts:
Feb. 7, A visit to Glenbow Museum
Apr. 24, Driest Day in 50 years at only 8% humidity
May 25, A stay at Three Valley Gap Hotel, Museum & Ghost Town
May 30, We finally see goats on the roof at the Old Country Market in Coombs, BC
May 31, Meet up with Henry’s niece in Qualicum Beach
May 31, Watch the tide come in at Rothtrever Beach, Vancouver Island
Jun. 5, Attend Vespers at Westminster Abbey in Mission, BC
Jun. 7, Stopped (finally) at The Last Spike, Craigellachie, BC
Jun. 9, Astonished by a first view of Chaplin Lake, Canada’s second largest inland saline water body.
Jun. 18, Long awaited visit to the Pro Football Hall of Fame
Jun. 19, Mind blown at Warther Museum & Carvers
Jun. 20, Got soaked on the Hornblower Cruise for Niagara Falls Fireworks
Jun. 28, Stumbled across the self-titled Home of Bigfoot (Remer, MN)
July 17, Camping at Akokiniskway Golf Course, Rosebud
July 17, Explore Dinosaur Trail and Horse Thief Canyon, Drumheller
July 18, Tour Atlas Coal Mine, East Coulee, AB
July 19, Last Chance Saloon, and the 11 Bridges, Wayne
July 20, Canadian Badlands Passion Play, Drumheller
Aug. 6, Pandas at the Zoo, Calgary
Aug. 10, Survived Calgary’s Hottest Day (36.4 C / 97.5 F)
Aug. 30, Visited Whyte Museum of the Canadian Rockies, Banff
Sep. 2, Stooking barley with Eau Claire Distillery at Bar U Ranch
Sep. 2, Made tea from rose-hips (pick, de-seed, dry, ground, steep)
Sep. 28, Towed trailer to BC and camped at Ft. Langley
Oct. 1, Stranded due highway closure at Canmore, camped in 2 ft. of snow
Oct. 20, Two day Watercolour Painting workshop at Leighton Art Centre with Pamela
Nov. 21, Knee Injection
Nov. 24, Dog-sat Blu

Some of my family at Murray's wedding

Notable Celebrations: 
Jan. 27, Pamela Forbe’s 60th in Sherwood Park
Feb. 10, Kevann’s wedding in Water Valley
June 6, My son Andrew’s university graduation and first year teaching grade four.
June 16, My nephew Murray’s Ohio wedding
Aug. 30, Our Wedding Anniversary #4, celebrated in Banff
Sep. 8, Joel Warren’s Baptism
Nov. 20, Henry’s birthday
Dec. 21, Joyce’s birthday
Dec. 31, LeBlanc’s New Year’s Eve

Well, that's not all, but there's not time to tell you about other church involvement, my garden, artistic endeavours, new writing assignments; Henry's books, motorcycle trips, handyman work, antique restoration, car project and puzzles; fun visiting with friends, siblings and extended relatives; the hockey games with our sons, and birthday celebrations with the family; the Calgary Flames being top of their division; or volunteering with a team of five to cook for 130 people at camp every day for a week. On the darker side were the horrible storms we couldn't avoid on our road trips, the ambulance call in the middle of the night, the root canals (one each), the knee injection, the myriad of doctor visits filling up our social calendar... those are just the stuff of life, showing our age and our scars and our gratitude for the fact we still wake up each day to God's mercies, new every morning. Most of all, we love our life together and are so grateful for this gift of love we share.

If you've stuck with me this far, your coffee is probably cold and you need a refill. Gracious. Retirement can be exhausting. What a list! Thanks for walking down memory lane with me. Why don't you create your own Joy Jar this year, and keep looking for all the events that bring a smile to your face in 2019! Then we'll meet again to compare notes, this time next year!

What ever you're looking for, you will find!

Henry's sister Elvira and brother in law, Ernie

 Celebrating the LeBlanc's return!

 Hockey with the guys

 With our daughter-in-law's family, the Buurmeesters

Lifelong friends, Murray & Pam Forbes, daughter Erica

 Pamela's party and the guys are in the kitchen?!

Henry's brother Abe and sister in law, Katie

 Beautiful Kevann

With Glen & Char visiting wineries in the Similkameen Valley

My Trio of Trust, Jean and Cathy

 Henry's niece, Janet

 Our cooking team at Camp Chamisall Week 7

Motorcycling with Richard and Lynn

 Hiking with Oly and Diane Boersma

Dinner at Gord and Jill's new villa at Glen Eagles, Cochrane

Nine strong women who've loved me a long time

 Hockey Mom Strong

 Grey Cup Victory Party: Calgary Stampeders 2018!

 Grey Cup Victory Party: Calgary Stampeders 2018!

My cousin Sylvia and Rick introduced us to Lou Malnati’s Pizzeria

Keith and Diane

Kirk visited us and we returned the favour this summer
in Ontario but I missed getting a picture of Patti.

Our friend, Amy Burks moved back to Ontario. We miss her.

The Harback crew. Lots of love and memories here.

Some of the wonderful women I serve with at women's Bible Study

Blu

Cindy, Kiel, Shaun, Henry, Bev and Jim - I didn't make them pose.

  ~Here's to 50 more years!~

Apples of Gold

“It really makes me sad to see you speak so harshly to yourself.”

I looked at his face, tender with concern. Harshly to myself? What had I said?

“I pray I will know when to speak and when to shut my mouth.”

It was, on the surface, a genuine concern to only say what is helpful. To not speak in unhelpful or hurtful ways. To carefully choose my battles and determine which hills to die on, then speak with the right attitude and in the right tone of voice. Because we know that it’s not so much what you say but how you say it that leaves the listener remembering how you made them feel. For goodness sake, I even pray about this sort of thing. And I sometimes decide not to speak when I listen to the still, small voice which cautions me to be still.

I had said the first part in a normal voice: “I pray I will know when to speak.” Speak up for those who have no voice. Speak peace into a troubled heart. Speak encouragement for the weak one. Speak up when I have been wronged. I’m still learning how to do that last one without being a prickly pear.

But when to shut my mouth? Ah, that I said with a snarl and a curled lip. A self-flagellation for every time I spoke out of turn, spoke too loud, spoke unkindly, hurt someone, accused someone, berated someone.

It takes me right back to Grade Eight science class when Bruce and Gerry gave me an unflattering nickname: Meramac Cavern Mouth. They were my friends, we sang together. I liked them. We teased each other. But I was loud and they poked me for it, choosing the largest cave in the state as my namesake.

Yes, I was loud in Junior High. I was obnoxious. I was funny. I was busy. I was a singer. I was confident. I was sometimes insecure and I was trying to find my place in the world, just having experienced my first kiss.

That was awkward and gross. I didn’t know what to do with that icky feeling. So I redirected it in anger against the boy who tried it and to my best friend and her boyfriend who goaded us into it. Sitting on the cold floor of her parents’ garage, we two couples, all the early side of 14 years old, decided to explore kissing. And it was a bomb. I was embarrassed. Was something wrong with me? Was it him? Neither one of us knew how. I was disappointed that I’d chosen poorly and I could never get “my first kiss” back. It was gone and now it would forever be engraved in history as a bad mistake I made with a pudgy Grade Seven boy.

What followed was my first experience with really hurting someone with my words. I broke up with the boy and decided I didn’t want to be friends with my best friend any more. I made unkind remarks about her to others at school. The vitriol went on until one of the teachers called me aside to say, “I know your brother (a teacher in Grade Six) and I know your family and I know they didn’t raise you to act like this. You are being a bully and it needs to stop.”

I did stop. I was embarrassed that someone had to take me aside like that, yet I was grateful because I knew he was right.

“The right word at the right time is like a custom-made piece of jewelry, and a wise friend’s timely reprimand is like a gold ring slipped on your finger. Patient persistence pierces through indifference; gentle speech breaks down rigid defenses.” Proverbs 25:11-12,15 (MSG)

My friend and I made up but it was always different after that. We had both been wounded and my words had left scars on us both.

The awkward, gross, icky feeling of Grade Eight surfaces every time I see that look in another person’s eyes: I’ve hurt them. I kick myself over and over for speaking at the wrong time or in the wrong way, even if what I said was valid. They couldn’t receive it because my timing or tone of voice was offensive.

As time passes, as I mature, I have earned a measure of success and respect for how I speak and what I write. But as many writers do, I write very carefully, wrestling long and hard over anything I put in print: to say it right, to say it well, to say it clearly. It can take an entire morning to write and publish one blog post. And I anguish over emails, writing and re-writing paragraphs to minimize any possibility of misinterpretation and still, it is sometimes misunderstood, the reader misses the point or fixates on one ill-chosen phrase.

I have no one to blame but myself.

Or so I thought.

In sober second thought, my rational mind can logically deduce that others are also responsible for their reactions. They hear what I have to say through their own background experience and emotional filters. They give different value, meaning and weight to my words than what I intended.

When another is offended, I can sometimes understand in retrospect how it hurt them, if they let me know. More often they don’t say anything. They just fade away. Not many people confront me about my words. Not many people confront anyone. It seems confrontation is avoided at all costs by a majority of us.

When that unsettled feeling rises, that subtle alienation after I say something intense, passionate or strong, I go away and analyze it. Replay the full conversation, maybe the entire event in my head more than once, guess at how it might have been interpreted (how impossible is that, since I’m trying to understand someone else’s filters through my own).

I know I am not alone in this practice. You do it too, perhaps?

So back to the original remark that started this all off. When I pray I want to know when to keep my mouth shut, I’m thinking of all that has come before. All the ways I’ve caused pain to the heart of another. That overbearing burden of being a person who so often wounds another, that somehow I should be able to not do that.

I should be perfect.

Or at least, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”

So I turn on myself. “Keep your mouth shut!” my inner critic snarls.

And the one who loves me best, who sees me at my worst, who has promised to love and cherish me until death parts us, tells me how sad he is to see that venom turned inward.

This is a shining moment in love, in marriage: the mirror held up by a loving hand to help me see clearly where I am self-cutting. The one who sees my heart, knows my life and moves to restrain my hand from the mea culpa.

“It is not only what you say but, more importantly, how you say it.”

Especially when you are saying it to yourself. Self-compassion is not selfishness. It is what makes it possible for us to live whole and compassionate in all our other relationships.

He goes on, “Ask yourself how you would speak to another person, and speak to yourself in that same courteous way.”

Words can heal and words can kill. Words wound and words give life. So, I will continue to pray about when to speak and when to be silent. Because silence is not always golden. Sometimes silence means consent or cowardice. In that case, speaking graciously is the most loving way to live in community with one another.

I’m so glad for the way another spoke healing words to me.

Watch the way you talk. Let nothing foul or dirty come out of your mouth. Say only what helps, each word a gift. Don’t grieve God. Don’t break his heart. His Holy Spirit, moving and breathing in you, is the most intimate part of your life, making you fit for himself. Don’t take such a gift for granted. Make a clean break with all cutting, backbiting, profane talk. Be gentle with one another, sensitive. Forgive one another as quickly and thoroughly as God in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:29-32 MSG

Reflecting while the wind howls

The smooth jazz Christmas music is on. My new housemate has moved in and is finding space for her things. The first huge blizzard of the season has been blowing all day. Because I'm fighting some sort of flu bug and it returned with a vengeance to my head in terms of sniffles and sneezes, I decided not to venture to work today. Mid-afternoon I felt better so I took apart my ten year old computer to retrieve the hard drive. This is a project that has been waiting for three years. Then my roomie and I made supper together: gluten-free pancakes with real maple syrup and raspberry topping, and a side of bacon for me because my vegan roomie doesn't judge anyone else's food intake. And yes, I know that's having breakfast for supper but it felt like that kind of day.

However, part of our agreement in her living here is that she will prepare some of the meals and I am more than happy to be introduced to other nutritional options. No one knows better than I that my food choices have been lacking some balance over the last several decades.

The day has been quiet except for the storm raging outside. It seems so natural and right to have someone else in the house. The dog isn't quite sure about it yet and has been behaving out of character, a little stressed at the change of routine. She was disconcerted by the moving of many boxes and furniture that ensued from deciding to swap the upstairs spare room with the downstairs office so the housemate could have her own space with the full bath right beside.

So I found some room in the pantry for her dry goods, some storage space under the bar for her dishes, emptied one shoe storage rack in the front closet, a little space in the garage and storeroom for miscellaneous items and for the rest she's finding a home in the spare room that has now become her room.

After supper I finally sat down in my "new" office, nicely organized, though there are a number of boxes filled with items from the closet that now need to be sorted, purged, given away or properly stored. I sorted my in basket and now have a larger filing pile and a small to-do pile.

All this in an atmosphere of peace, both external and internal. Oh, I know the snow is blowing and the wind howling like a banshee outside and I've had to raise the thermostat to keep the indoor temperature comfortable and my sinuses are really bothering me, but I truly am at peace.

Have you experienced this? When someone can come into your space, your office or your home and just having them around brings with it a sense of either peace or tension or perhaps some other emotion? Sometimes you can't even articulate what that emotion is.

In my case, the way this arrangement developed was so unique that I have no other option to consider but that it was God preparing the way for this to happen, from the first time I met Amy about 18 months ago. Someday I might tell you the story. Suffice it to say, it just feels right for now. It is an open-ended agreement and we're still sorting out the details, but I'm at peace and know that life is all about relationships. This is just one more friend that I'm glad to have!

The Next Morning

I had a wonderful dinner and visit with a long time friend last night who has walked with me through some pretty tough stuff. We couldn't be more different, yet we've always had a great connection and camaraderie. This morning I am still reflecting on the remarkable satisfaction that comes from being able to go to a deep-heart level with someone who knows pretty much everything about you and accepts you as you are, cultivates the core of your soul and helps it blossom.

I am heard, I am known, I am loved.

What a gift to receive. What a gift to give. Both are blessed.


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Well, That Was Fast

If you've seen the movie (and if you haven't, where have you been?), you'll recognize the scenes in this collage. In looking at these scenes, you just relived memories and experienced emotions in the split second it took your eyes to sweep over all eight frames. My short-lived Facebook hiatus was like that.

In my first full day off Facebook, I logged in a dozen times. (Yeah, I might have a problem.) I did a quick speed-read of headlines and status updates. I resisted logging in from work. Until my break, then I logged in once. I didn’t comment or ‘like’ anything, even though I wanted to. The reality is, I've lived a hundred memories and emotions since I thought I was going to go off cold-turkey. Some thoughtful responses to my hiatus announcement got me thinking beyond just my little window on the world. I sense how much it keeps us connected to life, to each other, to reality. How much it staves off loneliness.

But... it’s a good exercise, this Facebook hiatus.

Instead of mindlessly wandering through posts, updating and commenting at random, here, thither and yon (did I really say “thither”?) I’m being intentional. Asking myself, “Is that really a necessary thing for me to say?” Sifting out the frivolous. "Rawk, papier, thithers" (well maybe that's frivolous).

There’s nothing wrong with frivolous. As long as it’s not escapism or denial. It’s so easy to make light and make jokes when we don’t want to face reality or deal with the deeper wounds. Remember, we can't heal what we don't acknowledge. We can't surrender what we don't first own.

I’m not judging anyone else. Just me. I’m responsible for me.

In my first evening off Facebook, I write a poem that affirms I'm not a preacher but I think about it. I spend some wonderful quiet time meditating, then reading. I'm soaking and digesting Dr. David Benner's amazing book, The Gift of Being Yourself, a follow up to the deeply healing Surrender to Love. They're both great. Read them. Seriously.

I did some laundry. Cleaned the kitchen. Don’t get me wrong, even when I was on FB too often, I did these things. Except the poems became few and far between and the laundry would often sit in the washer so long I had to wash it again to freshen the almost-ready-to-mildew scent. But that also goes along with being busy, and I'm busy about a lot more things than just the internet (or maybe I'm in denial).

What is the appeal of Facebook?

I use it almost solely to connect with others. I'm curious about the world. About you. I don't play games. I don't click advertisements. I don't post recipes. Not that any of those things are wrong, it's just not my style. I use it to share interesting stuff and what's bouncing around my mind, it helps me stay informed about current events and keep in touch with what's happening with my friends. It’s like walking into a good party. I can make a remark to this person here and read their timeline posts just as if they were giving me a verbal run-down of what they’ve been doing lately. I can leave them without apology and move on to the next person. If they are quiet, I don’t have to make small talk, I just move on.

So I connect, but it’s without obligation. Very “social” media. Pseudo-vulnerable. I only come out where you can see me when it’s safe. Friends without commitment? Doesn’t cost me anything but time and it is the gift that keeps on giving: blog posts, quotes, scripture, inspiration, laughs.

I linger on the timeline of another poet. A professional one. Wait. I’ve been paid for my poetry. But this professional does this for a living. I think. Wouldn’t that be amazing? If I were a professional poet? But if all I did was write, instead of interact with people in the real world who make me think about things I want to write about, would I still have enough ideas to really write full time? 

I move on to the writer/professor/preacher/philosopher and see what kind of chat he’s stirred up. I always feel so intellectual on his timeline. Apparently I'm not alone. It's another theological debate among the students. Some are so emphatic. I giggle in recognition. I used to be that adamant. Convinced of my right-ness. I persuaded no one but myself and I alienated far more people than average. Now I’m sure of less and less and have more and more friends. I do still believe there are some absolute truths. However…

Based on whom you follow, Facebook can provide a new way of looking at things. 

A brilliant pun. A great article. So much wealth of curiosity-satisfying meat-and-potatoes content. Or achingly beautiful word-smithing. It keeps my mind keen and open, challenges my ingrained ideas, gives me clarity and hope. Satiating.

Then my son's girlfriend posts a picture of him at his job as a camp staffer. I really, really, like it. Of course I have to 'like' it! And I have a PM interchange with a dear friend. Wow, would I ever miss that! And to be brutally honest here, when I AM lonely in the wee hours of the night, Facebook is a waaaaay better alternative than the Crisis Line or dialing YOUR number at 3 a.m., right?

Why do I want to be on Facebook? It fills that basic human need for connection, for significance. I need to know I’m heard. I need to hear you. It helps me know I’m not alone in the universe. That you can trust me enough to share your heart when you really need to. That I make a difference. That you might get an epiphany or a different perspective when hearing from me and I from you, that we can challenge each other's ingrained ideas, call each other out when we are believing lies; support each other when we're dealing with petulant people (children, teens, bosses, employees), (((hug))) each other when we are going through horrible tragedy, point each other to the Truth in Jesus and just give each other a little hope, faith and love. (And a bit of cheesiness once in a while, too).

It is community. It is life. It IS real life. Yes, it is. Sure, it's a less that perfect substitute for a face-to-face conversation, but it’s a good alternative when I can’t look in your eyes. (Except in that really nice profile pic you just posted there.)

I am making some changes, though. I'm limiting my time. I'm not logging in during work hours (unless it's for work), I'm setting aside specific time to be completely silent and unplugged and I'm thinking twice or more about what I say, what I do and, um, how I dress...

Thanks for being my friend. Are you nodding yet? After all, I’m just a girl, standing in front of you, asking you to love me.

And you do.




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