Talking to Myself

Three of my daughters apparently take after their mother in the most unfortunate of ways.

Our family had the neat opportunity to attend a neighbourhood 3 on 3 basketball tourney today. What was truly remarkable was the vast array of different responses to this invitation.

My first born was ready to play. She figured out which of her brand new friends would join a team with her, they picked a name for their team, made a logo and matching t-shirts, taught the younger sisters some cheers to do on the side lines and then waited to go stomp the competition. She was not detered in the least by the reality that she didn't actually know the rules to basketball. "I can learn. We'll figure it out. I bet we can still really do well."

That's one response.

Then there was daughter 2. "I'm not playing. I don't think anyone will want to be on a team with me. I'll just cheer. If they don't mind me doing that."

Wow.

Then there was daughter 3. "I can't wait to be a cheerleader! I'm so excited! I'll practice and get it memorized and do it the whole time they are playing." Except then today while the games are going on, despite her mastery and excellence in these cheers, she dissolves into tears of fear because "There are alot of people here I don't know and if I do the cheers now, what if someone sees me and laughs at me. I want to be a cheerleader but I'm just so scared."

Hmmmm.

Then there was daughter 4. She was too busy being the adorable cheerleader doing all the actions, all the routines, while flashing her brilliant smile to care if anyone was watching her or not.

Better.

Then there was daughter 5. She found the chip bowls and stayed there for a couple hours.

Ah yes.

So out of my 5 lovely daughters, can you guess which ones were like me? And which ones were not like me?

Oh yes, I recognized my mother's voice speaking to a 9 year old me when I was telling daughter #2 "Of course they want you to be here. You are an amazing girl. Just have fun and hang out with them. Of course they want to be your friend."

And yes, I felt the stab of irony when I was telling daughter #3 "You don't need to be afraid. Go out there and give it your best. Do the cheers. No one will laugh at you. And who cares if they do? You'll know that I'm proud of you and that you've done your best. No one is even watching you. It is a little self-centered to think the whole neighbourhood will be watching you and you only in the middle of a basketball game. Just go for it. Have fun trying to be brave."

And yes, I sucked my gut in a little tighter when I was telling daughter #5 to use a little more self-control at the snack table.

Some day I'll get it. Some day I will bust out of all the lies and elementary school insecurities that cling on. I seem to recall telling my friends Kate T. and Catherine earlier this year that this would be the year for challenging my self and being brave to do the things the Lord is calling me too. And yet, here I am, kind of still not really pushing myself too hard. I want to be the girl willing to jump in with great enthusiasm and zeal to try the new thing and push my comfort limits a bit. And I want to be the girl who does what she knows she can do full out, regardless of what people might think or say.

I don't want to be a fool, jumping into arenas where I don't belong. And I don't want to be so 'care less' about people's opinions that I stop listening to wise counsel. But I do want, first and foremost, to listen to the Lord, and to do His will, unfettered by fear of man, and unenslaved to weak masters.

But now that I've put this down on virtual paper, and now that you've read it, I'm kind of committed to being brave and trying to obey the Lord in those potentially embarassing areas no matter what.

So, my prayer for this week -- a real small first step: Lord, show me one thing to do that would typically scare me silly that you want me to do for your glory. Then give me the strength to do it. And if we could start with a small thing, I'd be very grateful.

Wow-ful Women Wednesdays

There is a benediction that makes me well up with tears every time it is spoken over the church: "Now may the God of all hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope." Wow. The God of hope. Filling me with more of His Spirit so I can abound in His Hope. I wonder about that. Why is it easy to believe in Christ's victory on the cross, but not so easy to cling to hope? And how do you define hope? Did you know that a survey of people said that "hope" is wanting something you are pretty sure you are not going to get? I heard that on the CBC so it can't be wrong. That is worldly hope, not Biblical hope. When it comes to the God of all hope there is a surety and a promise and an absolute there. Not that we will get everything we want, but that He will do everything He says. And what more could you possibly want than that?

Addison Road -- Hope Now.



If everything comes down to love
Then just what am I afraid of
When I call out Your name
Something inside awakes in my soul
How quickly I forget I'm Yours

I'm not my own
I've been carried by You
All my life

Everything rides on hope now
Everything rides on faith somehow
When the world has broken me down
Your love sets me free

When my life is like a storm
Rising waters all I want is the shore
You say I'll be ok and
Make it through the rain
You are my shelter from the storm

You've become my hearts desire
I will sing Your praises higher
Cause Your love sets me free
Your love sets me free
Your love sets me free

mmmmm......

When will Tim and Andrew sing this at church?

Wow-ful Women Wednesdays

Nothing to add. This is really where I am this week. Especially after the call we received on Sunday from Pastor Mike to remember that God is in control. Of everything. Always. Forever. And we need to praise Him for that, not complain and strive and stress. He is good. He is good. He is good.

Loving the Little Things

In our previous house, there were several flowers in my garden that I did not plant that I really loved. When we were preparing to move, I considered digging up a bunch of them. But seriously. Did not have time. One of my lovely neighbours actually dug up 3 of my mostest favourites, but there were still others.

That little green one with the little white flowers whose name I never discovered.

The False Solomon's Seal that I loved watching slowly take over a larger part of the garden.

Then there were the ferns I always saw at DeGroot's and always wanted to buy but never did, leaving a space where they were "supposed" to go.

And of course I had always wanted to have something in the garden with a really deep burgandy leaf. A shade plant that would just pop in the indirect light.

Of course, I had also wanted to try out some big ornamental grasses, but we just could never find the place to put them.

Oh, and then the bunnies. Now, clearly not a plant, the bunnies were part of our garden, and our backyard. Especially the days just before we moved. There were 4 little bunnies who had a daily game of tag that carried on all through our backyard and then would spill onto the neighbours' yards.

As we were pulling out of the driveway for the last time, we all sighed a bit at the beginning of a garden we had going, the plants we were leaving behind, and the bunnies that we would surely never have in the middle of the city.

Well, imagine my surprise. As I finally walked around the exterior of my new house tonight, wasn't I shocked to find the little green plant with white flowers, the painted fern I always wanted, some burgandy leafy thing that just "pops", true Solomon Seal, a row of ornamental grasses reaching half way up our back fence, and a momma rabbit, with 5 bunnies, nesting in our little garden.

I know, I know, when I go to plant lettuce I'll rue those little bunnies, but for now, right this moment, they are all reminders to me that the Lord knows how to encourage me with even the littlest of things. Things easily overlooked by others because it just isn't what they need at that moment. But tonight, He knew that I really needed it. And I'm loving it.

Wow-ful Women Wednesdays

I'm almost embarrassed to post this video today. But it is all this gal's fault. She was all talkin' NKOTB memories, which made me think of this 5 minute bit of brilliance from my youth.

So now that I've alluded to the fact that I too loved NKOTB way back when, let me also confess that I totally loved (ahem) Janet Jackson. Not "wardrobe malfunction" Janet. Janet when she was so good everyone forgot who her brother was. I'm talking about her mini-movie "Rhythm Nation". Yes I owned it...on VHS. Yes I regret throwing it out. But hurray for youtube! Now I can share one of my favourite grade nine memories with you.

My friend Crystal and I spent countless hours pausing and rewinding and playing in 'slow speed' this song to get all the dance moves. We tried. Really we did. The highly pitiful truth is that while I was playing this video today, I still remembered some of the moves. Crystal and I actually had a fair bit of it down and, while a crowd gathered spontaneously in a circle around us, we would do it at school dances. Or die trying. Die laughing trying.

We were so dedicated we even did the chair bit at the end of the song. Oh if only my parents hadn't insisted on buying solid wood chairs we could have got it. None of our chairs were light enough to flip around like they do on the video.

Now you all know that deep down inside I have always wanted to be a dancer. Not like ballet, but one of those cool "I dance behind a famous person in a video" kind of dancers.

Yes, my hair used to be that big.

No, I will not bust any of these moves on the platform at church.

Yes, I will be pausing youtube and trying to learn these steps all over.

No, you cannot come and watch. Unless you want to join me. Then that would be thoroughly life altering.

Odious Tasks

I don't know about you, but there are some parts of being who I am, called to do what I am doing, that are really stinkin' excellent. On the flip side, there are a couple of things that are significantly less excellent. I'd like to mention a few of those things here today. I hope this isn't 'grumbling and complaining'. Perhaps it is just enough 'realness' for you to finish your week knowing that someone else is in the trenches beside ya.

Ready?

Okay, so first, I really hate going to bed knowing my husband isn't coming home. If I know he'll be home at 3am because of work? No problem. I'm in the happy land of Snooze by 9:15pm. But he's not coming home all night? He's travelling? Sorry. I'll be up til the little birdies sing their happy morning song. Do you know why I hate this? Yes, partially because I'm a sappy, hopeless romantic, but really because I think this might just be the night that some ne'er-do-well rapscallion is going to break into my house and steal something. Nothing strikes fear into the heart so much as the phrase "home invasion". This goes beyond the hassle and severe heebie-jeebie-ness of 'break and enter'. No one wants to know that someone has broken in and rummaged through all your unmentionables, but while I'm at home? sleeping? Um. No thanks.

Next on my list, is making the beds. I'm not talking pulling up the sheets in the morning and arranging the pillows ever so jauntily. No, I mean, I just spent all day haulin' 62% of my body weight in sheets and comforters up and down from the laundry room, only to have to now climb all over some rectangular "funhouse" trying to pin down an elastic edged sheet that doesn't feel like co-operating. And you do realize that at present we have one bunk bed set in our house. We have 3 more sets a comin'. Nothing like whacking my head whilst doing the bottom bunk and then suffering from vertigo from the top bunk to make my night. In fact, I have, in moments of weakness, prayed, whilst up on said top bunk, for that ne'er-do-well rapscallion to come at that exact moment. And I would beseech him to have the decency to help make that top bunk before robbing me blind. Pathetic.

This next one might surprise you. At first it doesn't sound so odious, but if you are a homeschooling mom you may just relate. Sharpening pencils. OH! how I hate sharpening pencils. I really do *heart* a nice sharp HB, but when there are 6 children at the table, all wanting a pointing thing with which to colour or print, and you are trying to sharpen as quickly as possible, it becomes an odios task. Especially when just as you are nearing pencil point perfection, the stupid lead breaks off several millimetres below. It is at that point that I wish I was not such a stupid cheapskate, because the leads likely break so easily because I bought a box of 24 pencils for 10 cents at Target. Why do I think they mark them down to 10 cents? Ah yes, the greatness of the 'deal' is losing its lustre right about now.

Toilet training? Anyone? Ya. Thought so. Moving on....

Picking tomatoes. I know, I know, garden fresh and back to nature and all that. Believe me, I love tomatoes right out of the garden. Nothing tastes better. All hot from the sun and juicy and perfect and YUM! I know. And I realize that *someone* needs to be out there picking them. Just please let me pick the basil that will taste like heaven with the tomatoes. Or let me gather some green beans. Picking in and of itself is not the problem. It is tomatoes specifically. The vines are the problem. They have a smell that makes me gag. Even "on the vine tomatoes" at the grocery store creep me out. Yes they taste better, but only if I plug my nose when I pull them off the vine.

Now this one is obscure, but it trumps the rest: Getting jalepeno pepper juice in the eye. I know, how often does this happen? Not often, but only once in a life makes it the most odious of all tasks. Except possibly making the top bunk. But I digress. It is like a little "do it yourself, at home pepper spray" kit. Man alive, you have to really like guacamole to put up with that pain. It happened to me in a really horrific way once and I was so incapacitated with pain that I left my (at the time) 3 youngest children alone in the living room to fend for themselves while I stood in the shower, fully clothed, trying to pry my eyes open and rinse them out with cold water. This after I had tried to pry my eyes open to get my contacts out (which of course were nicely rubbing that capascin juice right back into my cornea). The thing is, with pepper juice, your eyes don't tear. Your nose runs like a faucet, but there ain't a drip of tear to wash this stuff out. My hubby came home an hour after it had happened and thought that I'd been crying my eyes were still so red and swollen. I told him I would rather be in labour than have my eyes pepper sprayed. Seriously.

This is a long post. Are you still here? Maybe I just gave you an odious task of note: Reading Barbara's rambling blog. Painful.

Here's to hoping that none of us have to do any of those things in the next several days. Especially the jalepeno bit. Maybe keep one on hand though in case of home invasion.

Wow-ful Women Wednesdays

Well lucky me. I had considered posting a Wow-ful Women video of both of these women individually and then yee ha, I find them together on one video. Now mind you I might just still have to post them individually at some point to really highlight them both but it is pretty excellent hearing these two together.

There are just some voices that blend so beautifully together. More than just being able to find the right notes together, there is the need for a seamlessness of tone and timbre (ooh. nice use of a 75 cent word). I think these two ladies nail both those aspects.

Plus it is one of my favourite sappy songs that you are sometimes embarrased to admit you like because of radio over play, but there you have it. I *heart* this song!

Allison Krauss with Shania Twain (WHAT! I know. Fantastic!) Forever and For Always.

Simple Woman's Daybook

Outside My Window... someone actually cutting their lawn. Isn't it still April?

I am Thinking... that Brother Lawrence couldn't really have been *that* saintly.

I am Thankful For... another chance to start again tomorrow.

From the Kitchen... homemade, seriously yummy brocolli soup.

I am Wearing... my *skinny* jeans (it's all relative) and a light-weight, empire waist blousy thing that probably makes me look pregnant.

I am Creating... a music line up for our ladies' retreat.

I am Going... slowly crazy.

I am Reading... 1st and 2nd Kings, mostly because I can't handle Brother Lawrence any more.

I am Hoping... for less than 2 weeks.

I am Hearing... that lawn mower and occassionally my kiddos on their bikes.

Around the house... a large number of bags waiting to be picked up by the Canadian Diabetes Association trucks.

One of my favourite things... knowing Chris would rather be here.

A Few Plans for the Rest of the Week... pick up some new keys!

A picture thought I'm sharing...

Jealousy

Alright, show of hands. How many of you parents just today had to arbitrate between two children both wanting the same toy? How many of you wish that children just naturally shared and weren't filled with such outrageous jealousy? Can I hear an "amen"? Come on now, I know I'm not alone.


But today as this happened in my home, the Lord showed me a little glimpse of a pretty great truth.

Picture it with me: child one is holding the precious toy. Child two comes and tries to snatch it away. Child one grasps it all the more firmly, wrapping his arms around himself and the precious item, perhaps turning his body away from the would-be thief and shouting "MINE!"

Yes? Familiar?

Okay: now see it again your mind, but you are the precious item. The Enemy is trying to steal you away, and the Lord is holding you ever so close, jealous for you, saying, "No. This one is mine."

No one can ever steal a child of God out of His hand. Nearly unbelievable, except to say it was unbelievable would be to say that maybe God is unloving. And I can't say that. God is infinitely loving, so of course he would hold me and keep me and be jealous for me. Consider the price he paid to own me. Why would he then let me go so easily?

But now, just stretch your heart a little further. I had a dear friend pray for me once, as I was slipping into despair and depression, saying that he was jealous for me with a godly jealousy. See, he saw the clutch that the Enemy could get on my heart and was refusing to sit by and watch it happen. He refused to not do something to protect me from what assailled me. He was jealously grabbing me in prayer and saying to Satan "No, her heart is not yours. She is mine, in as much as we are all of one body." (Read 2 Corinthians 11:2-3)

Oh, dear brothers and sisters in Christ: we need, I need, to feel that heated, divine jealousy for each other. I need to look at you in the midst of your struggles and feel as desperate for your rescue as you do. We need to look out for each other as if we were protecting our own limbs. With jealousy, holding each other close in prayer.

As much as I hate to see a selfish, jealous streak in my kids, I am so glad to have been reminded today of Christ's beautiful jealousy for me, and the challenge put out to me to be so jealous for you. I need to pray for you like your life depends on it, because it I think it does. Lord give me that love and jealousy for your people that drives me to intercede for them.