Bees in My Bonnet

 Is it audacious to pretend that God has a birthday? Today the whole world seems to pause and recognize...some thing , if not, some ONE.   Those who come to adore the Christ-child and those who merely tip their hat in token reverence - most of the world will in some way commemorate the coming of this newborn baby, come to make all things new.   And how will we honour Him? In the markets we will purchase. In our homes we will decorate. Some will travel far and wide to gather together with family, whether natural or chosen. There will be food, feasting, desserts, fun, simple gifts, abundant gifts. We will honour the birth of the holy child by honouring each other.   Don't you think the God Who made us, delights in our  delight in good gifts - the gift of each other, yes, but also the new fluffy blanket, new notebook and pen, new robot vacuum, new piano books, new dollhouse, new art kit, new socks, new bouquet of flowers? Aren't these tangible pictures that hint to...

 I just began to journal...and it made me realize I never concluded the previous saga of the lost wallet. There is more  to that story, I tell you.  My journal began..."Sometimes I think my brain got fried. The ability - really, the capacity - of my soul to hold grief, pain, trauma, suffering, silencing - I'm guessing has been greater  than most. I used to think of myself differently; blaming myself for being weak, fragile, IN-capable. But if I honestly look at my life journey, I must arrive at a different conclusion than before.  I sacrificed myself on the altar of survival ." I stopped there.  Yes, that last line describes decades of my life. I needed to find a way through, a way to cope and survive as a mother of young children, in a struggling marriage, in a world that has normal everyday demands that a severely depressed person can barely hold up underneath. It's not the world's fault. It's not having children, or a husband, or any of these things that...

A month ago I was meeting with some friends and confessing how I struggle to do the normal medical updates of, like, going to the doctor for an annual physical ('What's with going to the doctor when you're not sick? It's like another chore!') Or, if I did make it to the checkup, to actually schedule all the follow-up things that they send you to.  I've written about having A.D.D. (I like to term it: Alternately Designed Diva), here before, but this is just one more peek into what it's like to live with chronic distraction, impulsivity, procrastination and bizarre rabbit trail hunting. A.D.D. never goes away. It is with me for life. It has affected every area of my life, and the medical realm is not left out of it's clutches. That's why A.D.D. sufferers (and, those who wear it proudly!) need many supports to keep us on track. Like friends. You know, friends who know   things - and will DO things, like, text you the name and number of a dermatologist y...

  Sometimes I'm just tired. Tired of trying to figure it out, and when I don't feel like figuring it out, tired of just knowing that the world is full of pain, loss, suffering, grief, heartache. I'm tired. It's Thanksgiving week and I want to be thankful. I want to reflect on all God gives, does, Who He is, the ways He blesses. But then I just cringe and think: an SUV plowed into a group of people. There's anger, there's rage. There's confusion. And it all just makes me tired. And it isn't even MY pain, MY story, MY suffering. And my son goes to a funeral for a guy who accidentally overdosed. 'Poor choices' some would say. 'It was bound to happen someday.' And true enough. That is so. If you mess with drugs, you take huge risks. But what of the pain, the waywardness, the lack, that brings about a yearning to self-medicate? What about that? It makes me tired just thinking of it. And I don't even carry this grief. Not much anyway. This ...

About 10 years ago I started this blog - mostly at the urging of people I was with who would tell me, 'You should write a book!'  I heard about what it takes to write a book and chickened out.  I couldn't handle that, I reasoned.  A blog would suffice.  And it did, and has - for me, if not for others.  Mostly people wanted to hear the story of how I met Sam, it being such a grand adventure and all.  I say that tongue firmly in cheek, because although it does rank up there as truly adventurous, it wasn't exactly all that grand.  I set out to write it all, and it came in bits and pieces, which is relevant to everything about me: I come in bits and pieces - sometimes overly large doses and sometimes small measured ones, if I'm careful to read my audience. And I never did quite finish writing it, which is also very indicative of the kind of person I am: always starting, rarely, if ever, finishing. So to all the pithy little encouraging sayings out there...

Back in November I wrote a post about collecting Manna - I explained what Manna was in the Bible and how I am making a habit of observing the Manna God sends me each day.  Sometimes my eyes grow dim and it is hard to see the hand of God at work in my life.  Sometimes I jot down my days events and it is foggy looking back over the day and I feel like I am a spoiled child even wondering what God is up to.  Yesterday was not one of those days.  Nor the day before. Because God dropped Manna in my lap, and I think you'll like these accounts. The week after I wrote that, I received a generous gift - a cheque in the mail - with a note saying, 'Here's some manna to supplement your grocery budget.'  I kid you not.  It may be a helpful reference point to put this out there: My weekly budget for gas and grocery (everything except medical) is $255 U.S. (dollars, that is).  Is it crazy to think of feeding a household of 9 (including 17 year old son who can...

Last year I began 30 days of gratitude, and well, here I am a year later up to day 13.  I have a Manna Journal - much like a Gratitude Journal - and I jot things in there, but few make it to a blog post (you can thank me later :) ) Today I stopped to visit a neighbour and on the way home I had to navigate around the garbage truck.  This is a normal, everyday encounter - except I noticed the guy was semi-dancing, swinging the garbage bin, singing and laughing as he worked.  Sometimes they work in pairs, but today he was alone.  He had a huge smile on his face - and as dark as my mood might have been, I couldn't help but to smile broadly and wave.  Joyfulness begets joy.  His smile was contagious. I made my way home and thought about him for the next few moments.  Dumping other people's trash may not be the most appealing job.  And yet all of us, in some way or another, have to do this at times.  If you're a parent, you probably have to do...

It was a year ago about this time that I was feeling the pinch of trying to fill lunch boxes and serve decent meals on a tight budget.  These kinds of things are hard to share publicly sometimes, because I naturally resist people feeling sorry for me as some might, while others might lean towards judging how well I use or don't use resources (like, if we turned the heat down, and wore triple layer socks, wool sweaters and caps we'd all save money on the heating bill...etc. OR, if I went and got a job and worked during the day when kids are in school, maybe we'd have a bit more of a cushion... OR... you fill in the blank).  Lest you have any concern as I share these somewhat personal matters - it was/is an issue of stewardship and budgeting.  We could take a 30 year mortgage instead of a 15 year and life would be a bit easier for us, but debt would be longer.  I do not consider we are 'poor' by any stretch of the imagination.  I've not written much on finances b...

Still Thankful So, it had been my intention to do this the whole month of November, but welcome to me.  Better late than never - at this rate I may have this project done by November of this year :)  What with my life being what it is - you know, acting as chauffeur, lecturer (to children who need a dose of my wisdom), lunch-maker, laundry maid, and pseudo-doctor when Grandma's got major toenail fungus (yes, these days this process of soak, treat, get the water temp just right, occupies a good few hours of my day), or kids are sniffly, and also doing doggie oversight while kids are at school - you know, all that and more, I often have blog posts floating in my head, sometimes popping up at inopportune times (like, midnight or such and I can't drag myself out of bed to wander to the computer to turn it on and blah blah blah...you know). One of these that has been sitting in my head is that I am thankful for the help of strangers.  There are more than I can count or r...

I didn't forget about this exercise.  I merely lacked the wherewithall to catch a few uninterrupted moments at the computer.  So I have many more than 30 specific entries to tabulate here...to transfer from handwriting to computer writing.  Thank you for your patience. So, when I use the term 'today' you may need to realize that that was many days ago...and I am just now able to put it down here. Today I am thankful for: Kaluvi's Chicken Okay, now I am sure you are wondering who Kaluvi (said, "Kah-Loo-Vee") is and what's going on with her chicken. I'm so glad you asked.  Kaluvi is the woman I met in Zambia about 12 years ago.  She was the house-keeper/helper for Sam's family.  I don't know her well, or hardly at all.  What I do know is she is a local Zambian woman who lives in a village hut with various family nearby.  We would consider her poor perhaps because of different standards of living and wage-earning.  I consider her quit...

Creation. Now, before you balk and say, well, of course we're all thankful for creation...I'm going somewhere with this.  And of course, Creation covers everything so with such a broad category I guess I don't have to finish this project and write anymore posts about what I'm exercising gratitude for.  But so far I've included things like: bananas, my husband, rest - so I'm covering a whole lot of random stuff that comes on my radar, and right now I'm camping out on Creation.  Okay? (Do I sound in an argumentative mood? Maybe. Sorry, I just have dialogues in my head with no-one in particular and as I write I hear what people are saying back to me, in my imagination of course...no, I'm not hearing voices.  Well, maybe a few...) My last post was in answer to a question about where we find our worth.  And my answer was long and winding (hum: 'the long and winding road' by the Beatles...as you read that), and circuitous and landed on Crea...