Comfort and Joy

I am being lovingly stretched beyond my comfort zones. As I drove yesterday, I thought of what a comfort zone actually entailed. It is fear, apathy, self-loathing, people pleasing, or whatever other painful wall we have built to protect ourselves? Or is it a border that we have been taught out of someone else's pain? If it is these stop-growth places, I want to smash them all. I want to be brave in my steps and pushing myself into newness. God is placing these opportunities in front of me and I do not want to waste them, ever.
This has been such a hard year but in the past few months the struggle has eased off and in everything there has been so much growth. I am learning boundaries but not in walls of pain- in healthy ones that heal. I am letting myself learn to be okay and not recoil or react. I am reminding myself to be truthful to the point and not catering to the pushers. It is both a wonderful and a hard place. It is a peculiar thing that happens when we try to protect others at all cost of our own selves. This distorted view of being loving, as we are abused into self-protection. Comfort zones.
I have recently found myself in a new season where some amazing women are lifting me up. It has been so long since I have been able to let go and not carry so much. It is undoing me, but I am loving the freedom in all these unsteady places. Stay tuned... there is a new year upon us....



A Haiku Poem

I have missed so much writing time as things stir in my heart but life flies by. There, however, is always time for a Haiku.

Winter's beauty falls
Reading by the Christmas lights
Tea and blankets warm

weaving choices

Lately I am seeing life as being like one of those pick-an-ending story books. The kind where there are multiple pieces and the story weaves depending on which page you pick to turn to. Each ending makes sense, coming to that end regardless of which weaving path you take.
I so want life to be simple and linear, but it is not. It has me hoping that I am not misunderstood, but picking alternate endings, or middles as it would be. I see the building events of the story and how each page is important to the next. I read into every detail. I really do. (Haha.) Honestly, I just want to make each choice count.
These last two years have been a sort of purposeful weaving and have been teaching me so much along the way. I have had the chance to pick the next chapter and it works in with the last. The linear does not exist, but this web of life has brought in other connections from other pages of my story. I love how that works. I love how God works. My good friend always says, "It is already written."
I like to think, "It will be blessed or redeemed." God is the author.

The Best Adventure

The best adventures happen when you take a leap. This reluctant Mamma has decided to travel for church. Today I was free to worship out-rightly in the dimmed sanctuary, prayer walls surrounding. Today the Pastor spoke such an amazingly spirit-filled message- it brought tears to my eyes. Today I felt filled up and reminded that I was tagged for heaven, by Jesus himself.
Then Garry met us and we headed up a mountain to Paul Lake. It was so beautiful; I could live there. Well, if not for the windy road that will soon be covered in winter snow. We had a wonderful family day and played at the water's edge. Autumn's colors were a perfect backdrop.
Today was the best adventure. We are set to go. I am set for change. Letting go. Or rather, running into the unknown. We are also headed the same way for our homeschooling activities. Check back in six months to see how it all pans out. I loved today.

 

A Sad Letting Go.

I once had this friend that I loved. I began to journey one way and her another. It pained me to be close as she would not let me fly. I wanted her to come with me so badly, but there was no strength in her to do so and I could not lift her up. She began to turn away from me more and more. I had to let her go. I hate letting go. I want things to stay the same. I am loyal to the grooves of comfort that are there in deep conversation and families joined in play. Letting go was hard and so sad. I still have a place in my heart for her. A hope for her. I am no longer letting myself be pulled and pained. This is a true story.
There is a place in my life that is just like this. A place that I love in part. A place that I wish to help so badly, that I would put my life on the line. This place isn't ready for change. It is too hard. There is no strength to do so, and I myself am emptied by the amount of pain it brings with it. And so, I have to let go. I am not sure if it even is the right thing to do, but then I remember my friend. You cannot make anyone decide for themselves, but you can choose to not to continue to be dragged down.
We have lived here six years now. It was not what I expected and God has done enormous amounts of healing in my life. I am also not connected to who I thought I would have been. But, six years and I need to be wise. We may love each other, but God takes us through seasons. I want to stay the same forever, but I do not want to stay in the same place.
Decisions are made and I will be walking in them. If they are not for us, they will swerve. If they are for us, we will finally have some relief. I am tired. Maybe I am walking the wrong way and the wind is blowing in my face, not allowing me to breathe. I am going to turn around now. The journey will be easier with the wind at my back, stirring me on.

Overcoming

We need new songs. David sang new songs. We need songs of worship. We need songs of declaration of God's glory, of His grace. We need songs of warfare. We need to cry. We need to shout and stomp. We need to stretch our arms. Songs are attached to our spirits, our hearts. They bring memories and are stories of our churches. We need the times of softening hearts. We need the times of joy after the overcoming ends. We really need to sing more freely. It breaks the darkness .We don't need constant sameness. We need realness. We need scripture declaration. We need "O, my soul" calls. We need to break the heaviness.
I love a new word. I love a new picture of God's love. I love a fresh encouragement. I love a new story of God's goodness. I love a creative melody of scripture poured out. Our God is creative. We are created. I love when I can't resist to stretch my arms wide in agreement from the inside of myself. Great are you LORD. I am not singing just words. I am worshipping. I feel the wind rushing in my spirit. An intimate encounter with the Holy Spirit. You know He is renewing you as you lean into Jesus himself. Seriously, we need to let each other be free. We need to let each other be real. We need new songs.

How the Pro-Choice Movement Has Made Me Less of a Mother.

Next Wednesday it marks ten years since little Mac's birth. Since his death. Since his stillbirth. I am one who likes to put a name to things and I am not even sure how to ever approach the way I talk about it all. Our culture has built up boundaries for the way we can, or do, view young life at this point.
I was twenty-four years old and sixteen weeks pregnant when I found out he was gone. I was sixteen weeks pregnant which is labelled as not counting, not a child, just a fetus.... So, at sixteen weeks pregnant, I was sent home with drugs to help bring forth this fetus. At home I laboured in my bathtub for four and a half hours, doped up on multiple Tylenol Fours, and with not even a follow-up doctor's appointment.
Two weeks later, without even being able to get dressed that morning, I found myself in another doctor's office crying for help. Post traumatic stress she said- is it devastating to lose a child, even a child not yet considered a child.
I will tell you, he was a child. When my body was done dispelling this lost life, I held him. I held a full baby, lost somewhere between eight and sixteen weeks. I saw his formed body, his eyes, his little arms and feet. A baby encased so perfectly in his embryonic sac. When it was all over I wrapped him in a towel, put him in a shoe box, and threw him away. I threw my child away. Since he was not considered a child, I had nowhere to mourn, nowhere to bury him. I knew he was already with God, and I let him go in the most painful and undignified way.
All the time I count my children up. I have four living breathing children now. I have two that have gone. I was a mother then, just as I am now. I felt that little soul inside myself. Each time I have carried a child, they have totalled my children for medical history, and each time I have to explain.... I have had two missed miscarriages (as is labelled the way I lost my children) and four children.
Why do my babies not count as babies? Just maybe, then we would have to ask some real and honest questions of our pro-choice culture. Having babies, wanted or unwanted, is hard. Losing conceived babies at any point in time is hard. They are all life, just as we began. I am a mother of six.

We are all the same.

We have been feeding poor people. It all started at Tim Horton's after swim lessons one day. There was a girl there who had a sign that read that she just wanted some food-  she would take anything. I wanted to invite her in for lunch but it is a tricky thing with children, and I was not sure about my husband's reaction. There was also a little fear there, I am sure. Instead I bought a gift card for her from that Tim's, but when we left she was already gone. It was then that we started a discussion about helping people and why they even needed help in the first place. Days later, we were in the city and there was a man on the corner with a sign asking for food. We gave him the gift card and told him that it must have been for him. From then on, I have had many talks with my kids about people in need- why they may be in need, that they are just like us but may have made bad decisions, or maybe they have not have been loved well. Anyways, I am not making this admission for my own sake. This is just the back story for today. Today my mother's heart soared to know that the message is getting through.

After church we were going for lunch, when once again we saw a woman with a sign, asking for change this time. We went and got our lunch and bought her some too. I also had twenty dollars in my wallet and gave her that. When I handed it to her, I saw her face, and knew she must be taking drugs with all the sores I saw. It was sad and I later thought to myself that I wished I could have stayed awhile, heard her story and told her that she is loved. I thought maybe I shouldn't have given her the money since she may use it for harm, but that is up to her now. When we drove away up the highway, I asked my kids what they thought and felt about helping poor people. My son spoke first, "It makes me feel happy and sort of creeped out."
I talked to him about the creeped out feeling and I asked him why it made him feel happy? He responded, "Because we are helping someone."
"Why would you feel happy about helping someone?" I wanted to know. "Why would you care about someone you don't even know?"
"Because we are all loved by God," was his simple reply.

He gets it.

Do we get it? I love his answer. I want that to sink in.

We are all the same.

I WILL NOT STAND STILL.

Maybe we should be going out instead of gathering. I have always felt like you can only grow so much until you desire to do more. Isn't the purpose of gathering to make a plan? Isn't the purpose of gathering together, to build each other up for good works. Not just for ourselves. And I would dare to say, not even just for our children. How are they to know how to have servants hearts if we are not serving? How are they to know the joy of selflessness for the sake of others? I have the best memories, the kind in which my heart soars, in simple ministry.
My Aunt and Uncle used to run a place called the Hope House. I remember that they would open these big doors and let in whoever would like to come off of the street. It was a time for a free, hot meal. It was also a time for getting to know people and being together. I loved to sit and sing with my Uncle as he played worship songs. It was where my desire to learn guitar was first formed. I loved the feeling of doing something beyond and I still love the thought of worshipping amidst the poor and broken. How awesome to break some heaviness. Music and mingling. My Aunt, she loved to serve, feeding the physical hunger. Church lived out.
I do not have a strong spirit. Although, that could be debated, I never feel it. But in these times I am brave. I want to feel more bravery. I will not stand still. I have to do more. I feel blessed in the intentional going. I want the times of sitting, of gathering, to develop a burning in my heart for serving. I need both; filling and pouring out. I don't want to be dry and I don't want to be stagnant. So, oh Lord, give me clarity. Let decisions be separate and one side of my frustrated thoughts be stronger than the other. I know what is valuable and I know what is ultimate. You are the forefront of my wanting, but I cannot see clearly. And, I am not the only one choosing in all of this. Let me not be leaning to the wrong side or pushing for the wrong outcomes, or with the wrong intentions. Your will be done.

Thankful for women of truth.

A hot soak followed by a hot chai tea, and at dusk, yes please. Tonight, finally, some retrospective thoughts. *think deep breathe here* I have closed out some options and am finally seeing pieces of conformation, that my choices have been prayerfully well thought out. Sometimes we just have to trust that eventually God will show us the why. One part down tonight, many to go. *add wink here* I am thinking that I have stepped far enough away to see more clearly. Life is weird.
This afternoon I was thankful for the beautiful drive, the drive that also exhausts me so, and began a prayer for clarity. While two of my little clan slept, I prayed for one side of my indecisive thoughts to become clearer so that I would know which way to hope upon. Ultimately these decisions are up to God and Garry, as I have told the kids. I only want the good. These times of restless stirring come with that. They bring about change of the heart and change our positioning. I don't want to stay the same so I have to thankfully accept the catalysts that come to guide me/us into the new. I hope for some rest in this piece of knowledge. And, I am thankful for women who speak truth and are willing to offer encouragement.

Church

Church politics. It is a strange thing. Somewhat important, and somewhat distracting from the purpose of Christianity. I have been sometimes attending a Pentecostal church. The word Pentecostal used to bother me a bit because of personal experience. It brought thoughts of ego and super spiritual out-there-ness. The Pentecostal church should be more like the Baptist church, be more put together- more articulate. Or should they? I grew up in different Baptist churches in part. The thought of Baptist churches bring me feelings of home and stability, but they can also be a bore. The Baptist church can be very legalistic. They should be more free like the Pentecostals? Or should they? What is biblical? When I lived up North I found a good place, a Mennonite Brethren church. MB churches are great, or this one was. I liked their broken down nature, the kind that drew in people with acceptance. That church brings thoughts of family togetherness. I have also been part of an Alliance church, a Vineyard church, a Lutheran church even, among a few others (just as a result of living in different places). I would love a bit of all these parts- free like a Pentecostal, strong like a Baptist, kind like the MB, liturgical like a Lutheran, but worshipful like the Vineyard. But, is that the point? Is that the church?
I have a friend that raises someone else's baby, and only for a time. She does it not for selfish gain, but to make a small, significant difference in that child's life. That is the church. I have another friend who has decided to raise many of her own children and without any debt, as to example that children and family are a blessing that God will provide for. That is the church. Another friend, has moved to a poor country and is working with people that need help physically and spiritually to live beyond their poverty. She is easing the hardship of their lives. That is the church. A friend so dear to me, is taking on a ministry to mothers in need, some of them in crisis pregnancies. She is using all of the experiences of her life to speak to women in the same hard places. She is the church. When it comes to meeting in a church building, I am drawn to the culture of a church. I want to be part of a church that speaks of these things in who they are and what they do collectively. I want structure, stability, and biblical purity, just like the rest, but it can't end there. I don't want to spend all my time figuring out what I am while missing who I am- redeemed. What am I doing that reflects who I am and says, "I am the church?"

a week of overwhelm

A strange week so far. Smoke in the air. It has been time with old friends and time in the city. This day was introspective on opposite ends. I have found more stripping of the old, and more familiarity to the new. Today I enjoyed the dentist just because I chatted with a wonderful faith-filled hygienist. Today I was let down by a friend. I don't care what happens as long as there's Jesus. Stripping hurts though. I have been thinking of what I want, personally and beyond what I hope for everyone else. Beyond what has been and could be. I want to live beyond the comforting mundane. The dulling mundane. Specifically, I want to live in the city. I don't want to be in a small and struggling, unbalanced church. I want to be part of a church with a strong foundation and a healthy gathering of all generations. I want a home that functions better, functions well. I want practicality, as that is my personality ingrained. Most of all, I want to be able to have more quality time with my own family and quiet time for myself. I need to be healthier, not more tired and run down. I need to be filled and fellowship, not let down and left alone. I need to be free to be creative, not hushed and overwhelmed. Today I felt almost like the last tie was cut and it is okay. Today I had a date with my eldest son too. I want more of that. It seems we are all left empty at the end of running out and driving around. I want to go to an appointment and then come home for lunch. I want night studies and winter classes, and freedom to be who we are created to be. I want diversity and truth.

community

Tonight I got to live in community. It is very important. It is a place where people show their character, a place where people let their guard down. There is something undoing about people with their guard down. It is in that place where you can love more truly. In that place you can see more clearly. This is all I want. I want to see and be seen. I don't like the passing by places. I don't like the head nods and vagueness of the public places. I want to live in the places where we commune together.
I am still not sure of what that will look like moving forward. I have to, need to, live where we are at. It is continually frustrating. I keep trying to guess, but I don't see a way out. I am too tired to fight. I am too tired to live on the road. I am ready for a summer cooped up in this farm house in the woods (which is actually a modular home on a treed acre lot). I want to do more, but I don't know if I am ready to commit to such an unstable footing. It is not about indecisiveness, it is about not knowing the best way. Thy will be done.

Lullaby

There is a lull. June is feeling like the Wednesday of this hard year. This last few weeks have continued to be so bad that it is laughable. Bring it on is my heart cry at the moment. Roof leaking, chicken pocks, etc.... Life is truly out of my control; which is probably the lesson. Right now there is a lull. Major appointments are done, art lessons have finished this afternoon, school reporting is done. I feel separated from the whole still, but in a good way. I am ready to settle in at home and rest. It is beginning to feel like summer, and I want to slow down and feel the warming shelter of sunny days. A great conversation came up today that leads me back to the teaching in my home. I am ready for some newness that brings strengthening of the foundations again.
Anyways, it is late... I have missed so many chances to write, we have company, and tomorrow we are off for a wedding weekend. I hope and pray that this summer is telling about the direction for this family.

A Starting Place

It was a lovely introspective drive both in and out of town today. It is a good Sunday. There was a good word spoken at church. I am thinking about where we stand; where we are headed. I like labels. I like to know where I am and where I am going, but right now I am in the fray of indecision. Or maybe I am still waiting. I have no answers. I have wanted to begin this new story, but I have no idea where this story starts. So, I am just going to move forward.
Church: Jesus is my foundation.  He is my marker. I was thinking back to all I have been through and his will was always my prayer, even in the worst times..... "God, I choose you".... "God, change me".... "God, use me".... "God, teach me from this hard situation".... "God, don't let go of me".... "God, give me a friend that understands where I have been but knows you too".... "God, heal me".... "God, redeem my life".... "God, use me".... "God, do your will for me and my family".... I have always had a desire to choose Him back and then to teach that to my children. I long to be with people who desire the same, and that at the forefront of their lives. Like all people, I am flawed and so I fight for a place where I can strive for the best place to do this. I find myself at a place where I am driving again for church. I feel like this church is fostering our family for now, and I hope they will eventually be able to take us in. This is the best way that I can describe it. I feel like I needed some respite. I was beginning to be overwhelmed, exhausted, and despairing again. I know that I may be called back home/here again, but for now I am experiencing healing, and restorative rest.
Health: We have been sick. My husband is sick. My soul has been sick. My kids are catching every sickness that comes by. I think it is a reflection of everything that is going on. No one just gets this sick ongoing. It is tiring to care for the sick with no seeming end relief. Hm.... maybe that is a thought to meditate on for a few minutes....
Friends: I am grateful for my friends. I don't need many, but I have been given a few that are amazing, loving mothers. They live Jesus and are kind, prayerful, worshipful, and live with intention. At the same time, I feel divided in places from these friends. The church here, with all it's binding tied around, has caused us all to be thrown into different places. Each one has gone to where they can guard their children from each tie that does not nurture growth in a growing family. It may seem hard to say so, but when I check my thoughts, it is plain to see. I am not afraid of the confrontation that may come from saying so, but of misunderstandings. I pray for all truth to be told and held onto so that we may not be so divided.
Living location: I never loved the small town living. I grew up in the city and I love the feel of a city. I like being around people and I like the diversity. I love that there is much opportunity for learning, for helping, and for growing. I am tired of all the driving. I would love the convenience of being near to the grocery store, the doctor, the pool, the arts, and more. I want my children to be able to grow in their own way and in what interests them, being able to expand on those things fully. The opportunities for every aspect of life seems more full in city living at this point. There are some contrasts to these points but overall moving is in consideration. It is all not up to me though.
Homeschooling: I am loving homeschooling. After three years, we are developing a good way of making sure each child is progressing and are seeing their natural skills coming out. This next year will be a little different as we register, and therefore, are accountable to our own plans. I am looking forward to even more freedom and letting the kids dive into what sparks their interests, of course with some guidelines too.
Me: I need some space to breathe. I need places where I can have a quiet coffee or tea, places where I am encouraged, places where I can minister from my abilities, places where I can seek help, places where I can take each child on special dates, and I need dates with my husband too. I need to go see the doctor, and the optometrist. And, I need more time for quiet prayer.
These thoughts are where I start. What do I choose? Which places do I make changes? Changes are coming regardless. Like my friend said to me today, "It is already written."
I am thankful for God's good plans. I am thankful for old stories and new stories. I am thankful for home and friends. I am thankful for changes that sometimes feel like ripping out, because eventually they may be known as replanting.

The Start of Something New.

A new season. A strange season. I am creating a new place to write. A place to start a new chapter. I am not sure what that looks like just yet, but I know that it is not the same as before. I am a seasoned mother now, becoming more than just a mom.