I am a rookie blogger. Feeling afraid to take this risk, but hearing Aslan whisper "Courage, dear heart", I move ahead. I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve and can be a deep thinker but I really don't take myself too seriously. I am so excited about life and all I am learning. I long to share with anyone who wants to join with me on this journey. Hope you visit often!
It's a Wonderful Life - I Want to Write Again!
It's a Wonderful Life - I Want to Write Again!
It's a Wonderful Life - I Want to Live Again!
It has been a really rough summer. I almost deleted this blog and was ready to give up on the whole thing. I had no motivation or inspiration and didn't see the point. I am so glad I know better than to act on those types decisions when I am in a dark place. Perhaps I have more of a story to tell after all.
September 29, 2018
The Summer Lost but Something Found
On the very first day of my much anticipated week of
vacation, at the very beginning of summer, my brother died. Since that day I have been dealing with all
that is grief. The many shapes and forms it takes on. God got me through I know, but to be honest, I don’t
really remember the rest of the summer. It is a blur, totally
Until the last week of August.
Another much anticipated, very much needed, week of
vacation. Looking forward to the visits with friends, the fun outings, the rest,
and the days in the vineyards or at the beach that I so long for. Unfortunately
I would not get to see my sister as she was in Vancouver seeing specialists for
a tumour behind her eye and that was weighing heavy on my heart, but this would
be the week that could fill my soul and bring some healing I so desperately need. Another chance to connect with family,
ESPECIALLY those grandkids, who would be part of it all, the main event. This week had been planned since February
and reconfirmed in May with all parties involved who share custody/visiting
times with said grandkids. The main event. Less than 48 hrs in, we found out that
the other parties involved had forgotten about these plans. That according to their schedules, between
them all, they had the girls right up until school started. Not a death, but
gut wrenching and another devastating blow for us and the girls. It all ended up working out after a few days
but then I got sick. Bedridden sick. The
coughing, the burning lungs, the throat infection. The sinuses, the pressure, the
blocked ears. The cold sores, the sores in the mouth and the eye infection. I
could barely breathe, swallow, talk, see or hear. I will never forget the look on my
granddaughters face when we told her we had to go home a bit earlier than
planned after already having spent most of my time there in bed. She sobbed and pleaded for us not to leave
through her tears. This is the girl that
we raised in her early years. We have such a bond and she pines for us as much
as we pine for her. Once again this did not go anything like it was planned.
When we got back home I had to take a full week off work. I
still have lingering symptoms today, over a month later.
In my time of grieving and being sick I have not been able
to get outside much, to read or write. I am very tired. I feel old. I can’t really focus or concentrate. I haven’t
been able to connect with God the same.
I have been feeling robbed, discouraged, vulnerable and at times
afraid. Not purposely disconnecting
from God but starting to feel disconnected all the same. I have had a lot of time to think and be in my
head. I know that I will get over this,
get through this. I am waiting and have hope that I will get
back on track. Waiting until I feel
better. Once I can get out in nature,
once I can read and write again all will be well. But it has got me thinking an awful lot about
the circumstances of others and my waiting.
What about those who won’t get over or through it? Those who
have chronic or terminal illness? With each new day, instead of the hope of
being all better, back to normal, it is only a promise of more pain, more
debilitation, and another day closer to the end. I have been thinking an awful
lot about prisoners and refugees. About
Corrie Ten Boom and Job. How did they do it? What exactly am I waiting for? God how do I do
this? What. Am. I. waiting for?!
This morning in that place between dreaming and awake, God
gave me these thoughts that I scribbled down through sleepy eyes.
He has taken my very own words, quotes and beliefs from the
last 10, 20, 30 years and paired them with my deepest fears.
Keep in mind this is in no way a rebuke but an invitation to go much deeper.
The title is
YOU SAY – BUT WHAT IF
You Say: that in the presence of your family and
especially those grandkids “All is right with the world” and “My cup runneth
But What If: they
were taken away? Your people, your loves disappeared without a trace?
Would you say all is well? It IS well? Could you be filled to overflowing?
You Say: “If I
couldn’t be near water I would shrivel up and die!” “In the waves I hear the
heartbeat of God” “In nature I am
grounded when I feel the earth beneath my feet.” To see and hear and smell the trees is to
breathe in life.”
But What If: you
had no access. In the concrete, in the stench, the lifeless forms, could you
still breathe me in? Could you still
hear my heart beat? Would I still be?
You Say: “When I get back to reading the word and
listening to worship I will get back on track.
But What If:
these things were denied you? Even worse, you lost your sight and your hearing?
Is my word impressed upon your soul? Do you carry my song in your heart? Are my
praises on your lips?
You Say: “When I
write in my prayer and gratitude journals it is life giving. Life changing. I become more grateful. I am more aware of my thoughts and feelings
and where I’m at with God. It is intimate communion with my Abba Daddy. I am
happier and at peace.” “When I study the
word and read books I am inspired. I grow deeper in my faith.”
But What if: there
were no paper and pen, there was no written page, no other story. Could you
still find me in your story? Connect
with me? Commune with me? Would you still learn and grow? Would you
still have the peace that passes understanding?
You Say: “I need
to be able to focus. I need to be able
to be still. I need to be able to read and write and listen. I need to be able
to go for walks. I need to get through this, to get over this, then I will be
better and then I will be able to connect with God again. I need to get back to
where I should be.”
But What If: I SAY
-I am here with you now. Just as
you are. Just be. I AM.
Later in the evening I happened upon this quote:
"It's a good thing
to have all the props pulled out from under us occasionally. It gives us some
sense of what is rock under our feet, and what is sand." -- Madeleine L'Engle, The Summer of the Great
One of my all-time
favourite books. I feel known
Week One: It is a very strange feeling. I know I will be ok, and I know that I have much love and support but life will never be the same again. There is this huge, bold mark on my timeline. The before, the after. I am not the same person. It is not my first big loss and grieving process, but it is the first loss of a sibling. I am not sure how to do this. I don't want to do this. I am still tumbling from the rug being pulled out, however people all around me are (as am I) going grocery shopping, banking, driving, working, planning....It's like in the movies when the scene is paused but some objects are still going by in slow motion. Surreal. I am so very grateful for the love and support of my husband, kids and grandkids and other siblings, family and friends. I treasure the evening just spent with Tommy, my sisters and brother in law, sharing in communion and prayer, laughing and crying and singing/worshipping together as we remember Paul and hold on to our lifeline, our Hea…
October 27, 1966
I was born (and mostly) raised in and around St-Eustache,Quebec. A small, yet historically significant town north of Montreal. If you click on the link, the famous church they are referring to is where I had my first communion and where we had my father's funeral. Our family burial plot is there.
My Father was French Canadian Catholic. My mother English Protestant. Let that sink
in a moment. That is a whole other story on it’s own.
If you ever get a chance to watch the documentary Quebec My
Country Mon Pays, please do. It is so well done! That will show you the kind of environment I
grew up in. And some of the exact area
too, much to my surprise when I watched it.
Here is a link to the trailer https://vimeo.com/182087241 It is only 2 minutes long and really worth the watch. The film itself really resonated with me. I cried more than once watching it.
The Revolution Tranquille and the FLQ crisis. I remember being 4 yrs old and hiding under
The HIGHS and the lows of 2017 - A tragic loss, a serious illness, a wedding, a new job and a move. Another big year
My latest blog post. It's not very poetic or creative in any way shape or form. Just wanted to get it done. So far behind with the crazy move and having no internet etc. Aplogies
The year started off very intense. Our granddaughters Cadence and Crystal’ s baby
brother Keegan passed away suddenly when he was only a few weeks old. Although I have experienced many hard losses over the years nothing prepared me for this one. I never thought I would one day be walking down this road with those girls. They are too young to experience the loss of a sibling. I am so grateful I got to hold him and cuddle with him. A gift I will always treasure. There are no words to describe the heartbreak
and everything the family went through with such a devastating loss. They are strong and amazing but please
continue to keep this precious young family in your prayers.