Laughing under the Hugging Tree

Labour of Love ~ An Anthem

2010-02-12T22:34:00.000-08:00

So, after a full and busy day more unsettling correspondence comes our way.

I hate how unsettled I get when I feel willfully misunderstood. I should know by now that there is no reason for another person to understand the hows and whys of my thoughts. I should expect to be misunderstood and thus operate from a position of expecting to have to clarify. However, this ceases to work for me when there is no opportunity to clarify, no opportunity to answer the charges, no opportunity to turn away wrath, no opportunity to heal wounds...

As I try to process all alone on a cold winter's night, my heart and mind returns to this song that I have been recently reflecting on it. On a weekly basis, I have found myself able to sit and bask in the sentiment expressed by Stephen Hatfield's Labour of Love. In my mind, I think that it's a bit of an anthem for a mystic... ...not that I consider myself a mystic but if it's true, in the words of Bruce Chatwin, that: '..the search for the divine turns people into nomads...' Maybe the search for connectedness to the divine turns us all onto the path of the mystic.

~~~
Let me set the scene for this lovely choral piece.
The tune is based out of a Irish/Scottish song called Fear an Bhata (The Boatman).

Think celtic, the sea and longing...

~~~
Labour of Love (Stephen Hatfield)

Take me, somewhere. Take me somewhere. Take me somewhere. Carry me on.
Carry me to somewhere, where ever, carry me to somewhere, where ever, carry me to somewhere, where ever, carry me on to where there are people like me.

Verse 1:
They brought me to the doctor. She said, "It's the clearest case I've ever seen. This kid needs a ransom, (s)he needs a genie, (s)he needs a ship sailing where (s)he was always meant to be.

Verse 2:
They brought me next to the altar. Know how you feel said the voice behind the screen. This world needs a ransom, we need a genie, we need a ship sailing where we were always meant to be.

Verse 3:
We're standing here in our order. The chords in our voice hoist the sails into the breeze. We'll give you our heart, give you our breathing, give you the ship that could sail Abelard to Eloise.

And you know I'll be looking for someone, and I'll be looking for someone, and I'll be looking our for you there, somewhere there are people like me... somewhere there are people like me... somewhere there are people like me. Somewhere there are people like me.
~~~

I think that the longing for depth of connectedness both to God and the world leaves me a bit raw sometimes. And we all know when we are raw we feel more deeply the pain of the world that we live in.

Maybe sleep will yet come...

Bone Weary

2009-09-12T07:49:00.000-07:00

A Bone-Weary Truth by Attiya Dawood

Truth is the basis of my creation.
No matter how many times in the name of truth
My being was chopped and cut,
Each time like the amoebae,
Every piece of the portioned-off being
Has become a being by itself.
Whenever I was put on the scaffold in the name of truth
Each time I have taken a new birth,
But this dying and being born every minute
Has made me bone-weary.
I want you, my friend
To take away my being from the cross.
Come in front of me,
Whisper sweet nothings in my ears,
Turn the shackles of hypocrisy
into bangles for my hands,
Love me with such a crushing deceit
That my soul not be able to bear it
And free itself
From my tired being.

(Painting of Lazarus at the Gate by Frank Wesley)

Some days just seem to drain life. Not every day. Not all the time. But sometimes the weight of life becomes tiring. I think that there is comfort in knowing that I am not alone in this, comfort in knowing that everyday does not take, and comfort in remembering it won't always be this way.

Shelved, Lost or just Ignored?

2009-09-03T07:58:00.000-07:00

So, as you might have noticed I have been on a bit of a hiatus. The past half a year has been a reminder that anything you say 'can and will be used against you'. So I have written a number of posts and just left them as drafts in hopes that there was a possibility of positive outcomes... ...alas, that is not to be the case. I am still unsure if I will re-visit the last few months of thoughts and posts. However, today, as I vacuumed the place I was thinking about part of a sermon I heard on Sunday. It's been so long since I have heard anything so very life-giving.

Our girls pounced on us Sunday morning... ...not very early but with the demand that we needed to go to church. So in 15 minutes we have to achieve some semblance of normalcy and were out the door. Interestingly, we ended up at a service where there was an unexpected guest speaker... ...what a blessing! He mostly spoke on the 'Lost Chapter', that would be Luke chapter 15, where Jesus shares 3 stories about lost things: a lost sheep, a lost coin and a lost son.

The first thing that impacted me was the call Randy issued to the church about her responsibility to the lost. All the other stuff is well and good, but her primary purpose needs to be about people: redeemed for, restored to, re-invested in the kingdom of God. He focused on the state of the lost and the motivation to find. We need to be motivation first by love, by compassion for those who do not know they are lost. We also need to be motivated by the knowledge of what we lack with the absence of those who know they are lost and those who grieve for them. And finally we need to be motivated by blessing that will come from the lost being brought back into purposeful action.

But, today as I cleaned I thought more about the lost coin than I had just a few days ago. Of course, I knew the story, but I hadn't considered all the implications of the events.

A woman had 10 coins and lost one. She thoroughly searched her house to find that missing coin. When she finds the missing coin she celebrates by calling her friends and neighbours over to her house.

A party to celebrate finding a coin. The coin was probably about a days wages for the average worker in the field. Celebrating likely cost all, more or the majority of that coin. But that coin was put back into circulation, it served the purpose for which it was created. A coin is made to be spent, that's the point of it's existence; on the ground, under a table, in a crack in the floor keeps the coin from achieving it's purpose, it's useless.

I wonder if people, even within the church, are like that coin. They are lost to their purpose, unintentionally or intentionally. For what ever reason we may find ourselves in a place where we are not useful; we might have been shelved for later use, we might be put in a safe place and forgotten, we might have been brushed off the table and rolled into an unknown location. I think then we might consider ourselves 'lost'. What possible assurance could come from this realization?

Someone is looking for you. Someone is looking for you to put you back in circulation, to use you for the purpose for which you have been created. Although, today you might be on a shelf, in a corner or swept off the table, you have been created for a purpose and the one who knows that purpose is looking for you to put you back in circulation.

Mystic Monday #4

2009-03-09T18:20:00.000-07:00

I have been stuck in with Teresa of Avila... ...she lived into her sixties and wrote a number of very dense works. Her attitude towards her writing is funny to read; as she writes she is very self-depreciating and often refers to the fact that she has been compelled to write by others in authority over her. And yet the writing is so insightful that it seems every time I return to a passage I am drawn deeper into the imagery.

I appreciate the fact that Teresa continues throughout her writing to say that prayer is work, in fact all spiritual disciplines take work and one should expect to have to grow into a deeper experience with time and labour.

One of the earlier images Teresa uses is that of watering a garden. As Teresa travelled through Spain she established new convents. Generally, she accepted whatever accommodations she was could acquire. However, one of the first places she established with her newly founded order of nuns was in San Jose and it had garden space for flowers and vegetables as well as space for hermitages where a nun could retreat to for respite from the demands of the world. The stone walled retreats were simple with very little adornment save a window with a view and occasionally paintings with religious themes.

From this place she wrote a short teaching on prayer.

In the beginning we all start with a barren landscape, with a plot rife with weeds. So the work starts with turning up the soil, pulling up weeds and digging up roots. The Master aids us with removing the undesirable plants and choosing viable and healthy plants to put in. The chosen plants are in place; the soul has decided to pursue the practice of prayer. Only the Creator can make a plant grow, but we too have a job, our responsibility is to water, to keep the weeds at bay.

And Lord comes into the garden to meet us, and to enjoy the beauty of life emerging from the barren spaces. But the work is not finished. Diligence is required to maintain the budding life amidst the hostile landscape. Our primary task is to water the garden. That watering happens in a number of ways... ...each of these ways can teach us something about the stages of prayer.'

In the early stages water is carried by hand drawn up from a well. Then we construct machinery to help us; a water wheel and buckets cranked by hand. We are still labouring, but less intensely and more effectively. If you have good fortune you might find a spring or stream that can be diverted to water your garden; after the initial work of implementing a system you are rewarded by more regular and thorough watering for your garden. Finally, the ideal situation is when the Rain Maker does the watering for us; there is no work by us, just the pleasure of knowing our garden is provided for by the One who we cultivate it for.

Teresa goes on to explain in detail what the characteristics of each stage looks like. She consistently encourages the reader to continue even when the well seems dry: "This is how He tests the people who love Him. First He shows them how useless they are, so that when they receive divine favors, they won't get puffed up with their own importance... ...The problem arises when people think that favors should come quickly."

When avoiding cognitive dissonance beware of cultural dissonance!

2009-02-26T13:19:00.001-08:00

Let's begin with a few definitions...

Cognitive dissonance: The discomfort caused by the awareness of holding two or more contradictory ideas.

Cultural dissonance: The discomfort experienced by people in the midst of changing cultural dynamics; most often characterized by changes which are unexpected, unexplained or not understood.

I think that one of the most important aspects of cognitive dissonance is that one needs to have an awareness of discomfort before one can identify those thoughts which are being held in tension. Self-awareness is an experience that is often sought out as we age. We grow in understanding ourselves different and separate from those around us; we seek to inventory those things which we hold that are truly of us and those things we have embraced as default.

In the process of this often we come across contradictory ideas, thoughts or values. We are then faced with a choice... ...can both be held onto at the same time... ...if not then which value do we go with and why.

But here is the aspect that I wish to mull over. What happens if in the process of self-examination and increasing self-awareness I decide to embrace a value that is not held or endorsed by the dominant culture in which I find myself? I do not spare myself discomfiture. The attempts to ease the unease of finding myself in the throes of cognitive dissonance I am thrust into a dissonance of another variety.

Leaving and coming back home has opened my eyes to cultural 'concerns' about my hometown. I think that is likely a very 'normal' experience. But as I wandered through my time back I realized that I was not at ease at home. As I explore the reasons for my dis-ease; I find myself having shed some of the normalcy of home for another normal. And I don't want to give up what I have received... ...as I weigh out the values I hold, I find more reasons to hold on to that which I experience as more real. But that reality is uncomfortable and darker than expected.

I came to this as I watched a documentary this week. Cognitive dissonance came up... ...those who have heard the truth yet do nothing with it... ...those who believe the truth yet do nothing with it... That's most people when they count the cost of change and decide it's too much to pay with no guarantee that the reward will make it worth it; besides they will tell themselves no one else is moving towards change. One insightful commentator said that we are living in make-belief.

Actually, I believe that many of us know that we are living in make-belief. And that is what leads to the very normal condition of the human mind to live in cognitive dissonance. At the same time we want to avoid the pain of the dissonance so we increase the pretense making excuses for the reasons why we can wait or why what we know isn't as serious as it is... This phenomena is evident in many arenas of life often resulting from a simplistic view of the issue in question. A simplistic perspective, leads to a simplistic approach resulting in a potentially detrimental solution.

From a global perspective, our attitude towards caring for the world in which we live will likely begin with a measure of cognitive dissonance and then gently lead us into the depths of cultural dissonance. We all have a list as long as our arms for the reasons why we continue unabated with a lifestyle of consumption. We know that the natural resources that we extract from the earth are not being replenished. But we do not treat these resources as if they are finite. Take petrochemicals...they are all pervasive on a global scale. We know that oil is harvested and not being replenished. We know that whatever we take is being processed and burned and detrimentally affecting the health of ourselves, our children and our 'home'. But we continue.

... dissonance ...

So as I try to live more consciously I find myself trying to live as if what is true is really true. Then I become very aware of the luxury of a strawberry in the wintertime... ...a lawn in the summer... ...a dryer during the rainy season... ...a car any time... But I struggle to live accordingly. Should I not buy my children fresh fruit in the winter because the carbon footprint may eventually cause them more damage? Should I avoid olive oil because I know it is being transported to me emitting air and noise pollution every mile of the way? Should I avoid: rice, avocados, tuna, coffee, black teas, bananas, coconuts, black pepper, sea salt, seaweed... because they are not responsible choices once I begin to consider the impact of getting them to my table? According to one set of statistics the average that a food item travels before it lands on our table is 1500 miles. That is not acceptable. But,...

And this is where I become dissonant... I live in a climate where the ground is frozen for almost as many months as it is not frozen. I have growing children whose nutritional needs are important to their long-term well-being. And here is the one that is the most difficult to deal with... I can not always afford to purchase the locally grown, the organically grown, the responsibly packaged, the environmentally sustainable... So I live with disappointment and disapproval of my own decisions.

Who wants to hear that they shouldn't buy new clothes every season, they don't need a new "insert item of choice', smaller is better, less is more, if it's yellow let it mellow, your clothes were stitched by a child, your toilet paper is made of trees, your neighbor is everyone who is connected to you via your home, your clothes, your food, your pollution, your consumption...

In fact, sometimes my oldest child doesn't even want to hear it... she is aware of the dissonant sound. Sometimes I become overwhelmed trying to make a decision on a food purchase. Other times I simply harden myself against my own judgement.

But the challenging part is that we, as a family, are trying to move towards a lifestyle this is responsible, sustainable, healthful, justice centered, grace filled and love imbued; and so we oft find ourselves in the realm of the culturally dissonant. We need to find meaningful action... ...re-evaluate choices and priorities... ...plan for the future... because sometimes the loudest sound is a lone voice in a lonely place.

My Partner and I walking through life

2009-02-07T20:00:00.000-08:00

It's odd that I have been so sporadic in my posting. I realized that I have a good number of draft posts that have never been finished... ...I wonder if they ever will be. And recently, I have been using a journal more... ...the kind full of blank paper that fit in whatever bag I carry out the door. Maybe if I began to use a laptop I would post more regularly... ...or maybe not. You see I am a seriously unscheduled person. I really struggle with time tables, time management and time perception. At some point in my years you would think that I would have come to terms with the fact that time needs to be dealt with; yet I continue in denial.

What has helped is being married to my DH. He does not struggle with time, in any way shape or form. In fact, I am convinced that he knows the time without needing a timekeeper. He knows how much time passes, how much time passed or how much time is likely to be required for any given task. It dumbfounds me. However, as a consequence I am more likely to arrive at appointments on time these days than ever before. I may 'flap' as I exit the house to reach the required destination; but I generally reach it at the moment required. This said I still find time limits stressful. If I need to leave somewhere or arrive somewhere at a particular time I have learned that vigilance is necessary; of course, this vigilance is distracting to the task at hand and leaves me feeling like I enjoyed the event less than I might have had time not been an issue.

However, back to the title of my post... My partner. I was just thinking today of the reasons why I appreciate him. Part of it is the fact that I can say anything to him... ...like today I was wondering out loud about the workings of our spiritual bodies in the next life. Of course DH replies that the Docetists wondered that about Jesus; they developed the idea that Jesus' physical body was an illusion therefore he wouldn't have been subjected to the 'lower' bodily functions. However, I assume that the body he was born with was like ours and his resurrection body is like the one we will be getting. Of course, this is just a side discussion to the fact that DH willingly engages me as I speak out random thoughts even if they remind him of some teachings that are generally accepted as heresy.

We sat this week with dear friends as talked about church for hours. Seriously, twice staff came up to us to ask if we were done our meal... ...we were, but as we were at the Chipotle in the MOA we didn't have anywhere to go so we smiled and continued. The thing is that DH and I have been imagining church in new ways... bigger ways ...fuller ways and we haven't really had the time to test out our thoughts. So we sat, shared and heard back from friends, who are both like us and unlike us. Good conversation over good food is like nourishment for the body and soul.

So if conversation is an aspect of community that is essential to the wellness of our soup then one of our current challenges is getting enough sleep. As our wee ones are not so wee, they are not heading to bed as early as before. That takes time from the end of the day for them and leaves less for us. Both of us tend to process life at the end of it, so we stay up later reviewing and sharing all the 'stuff' that there was no time for earlier. It would be alright if we were both caught sleep the same way, but we don't. Just like we deal with time differently we also deal with sleep differently. DH likes to explain it this way: For him sleep is like catching a train, you have to catch it when it comes or sit and wait for the next one; however for me sleep is like driving a car, I just hop in whenever I want and away I go.

So we need to find more ways to carve out time in our days. This week we drove a long way with no small people in the vehicle. So we had hours to talk... ...a friend lent me a CD to listen to and there just wasn't the space for it...we talked, I slept and then we talked some more ...I know that it's cliched to talk about marrying a best friend, but there it is. Walking through life together has helped us grow together in a way that I don't think we ever imagined. I have learned how to experience the world as he does and he as I do. Interestingly, I think it makes us more compassionate than we otherwise would be; because we still approach the world from different starting places. He is much more intellectual, thinking, conceptual, whereas his current favourite word for me is 'visceral'; that just goes to show how intellectual he really is. Visceral connotes instinct, but as I am human and the professional verdict on whether or not a human is truly subject to instinct is out; it would be more appropriate to define visceral in terms of gut-level responses.

This leads me to another stream of thought that I have been tossing around. Is it really a good idea to meet a partner through a service that matches personality and interests? I am certain that DH and I would not have been matched in our late teens and early twenties... ...I suppose we would be more compatible now, I think partly because of the influence we have had on each other. Maybe that means that match-making services that use questionnaires filled out by the person looking are more useful for older adults, who know themselves well. At the same time I think that there is place in a partnership for growth because of differences; although I am aware that those some differences may drive a partnership apart.

So I am wondering how to wrap this all up... ...maybe if unity in diversity is possible on a small scale like in a marriage or family then we should have hope that it is possible in to be manifest is a wider context. But that also means that the lessons (compromise, understanding, compassion) that make our marriage strong can also make our friendships strong, our communities strong and our nations strong.

What are the things that make your partnerships work well? What are the things that challenge the stability of it?

Mystic Monday #3

2008-12-01T19:50:00.000-08:00

This could be properly labeled Theresa of Avila~part 1.

I am in the process of finishing a biography on Theresa of Avila by Cathleen Medwick. It's a lovely read. She references a number of writers, both contemporary to Theresa up to the present. It yields a fascinating picture of a woman in pursuit of God.

In order to present a fuller picture of one of my heroes, I thought I'd spend a little more time sharing the aspects of her life and writing I find so compelling. But first let's give you a sense of when and where.

She was born in Spain, March 28th, 1515. Theresa was born into a Castilian family, with a shadow of the inquisition over them. In the late 1400's Jews were expelled form Spain by Ferdinand and Isabella. Then the inquisitors took over ferreting out those who did not truely convert... Theresa's grandfather decided to avoid being exposed as a non-converted Jew; so he came forward and accused himself of crimes that undermined the church. After a fairly light, although humiliating punishment, Juan relocated his family to Avila where he earned the status of hidalgo or gentleman. Theresa's father, Alonso, was a very devout Castilian, who worked hard to secure his family's honour. When he married Theresa's mother, Beatriz, he was then part of a Old Christian family; then he fought for his country, and returned home after a successful outcome.

It doesn't seem that the shadow of the past affected Theresa. It seems that Theresa respected her father, although initially he forbade her to enter the convent. He also had her stay in the family home during a lengthy illness. All believed Theresa would soon be dead...her coffin was ready, she was wrapped in a shroud and her eyes were sealed shut with wax in preparation. Alonso faithfully and repeatedly said "Esta hija no es para enterrar." (This daughter is not for burying.) Slowly Theresa recovered. Only to lose her father a few years later; however since he spent his final years in the business of 'saving his own soul', she was comforted.

Following this Theresa pursued spiritual counsel at every opportunity. She worked hard to pray and held herself to a high standard. Often those around her felt like the things she confessed were so trivial, but to Theresa any short-coming, any attraction the world held, any distraction, was worth dragging into the light and exposing.

I appreciate how Cathleen Medwick ends one chapter on the beginnings of Theresa's maturing sprituality:

The woman who came back was no longer of two minds about the world and God. But inside the convent and out, people were of two minds about her.

This would be the defining feature of the rest of her life. And even after her death varied and opposing thought continued and continues about her life, teaching and experiences with God.

Her writings, particularly her accounts of ecstatic experiences, have been oft surrounded by controversy. It is interesting to me that the sculpture, The Ecstasy of Saint Theresa by Gian Lorenzo Bernini has been a source of contention regarding Theresa... ...too beautiful, too sensual, too intimate... They did not live at the same time, so all Bernini could go on was Theresa's writings, and the testimony of her contemporaries. When you read her description of her experience with God you see that Bernini faithfully brought that to life in his sculpture.

She writes in Vida (Theresa's account of her life story):

...very close to me, on my left, an angel appeared in human form... ... In his hands I saw a large golden spear, and at it's iron tip there seemed to be a point of fire. I felt as if he plunged this into my heart several times, so that it penetrated all the way to my entrails. When he drew it out, he seemed to draw them out with it, and left me totally inflamed with a great love for God. The pain was so severe... ...and the soul isn't satisfied with anything less than God. This pain is not physical, but spiritual, even thought the body has a share in it--... So delicate is this exchange between God and the soul that I pray God, in his goodness, to give a taste of it to anyone who thinks I am lying.

Mystic Monday #2

2008-11-24T20:36:00.000-08:00

I thought I'd like to begin with Therese de Lisieux, also known as Therese de l'Enfant - Jesus, or Therese, the Little Flower of Jesus.

I first read her autobiography about 4 years ago, nearly to the month. Despite growing up in the Roman Catholic Church, I have no recollection of hearing her story before that. But the innocence and sincerity that permeated her own reflection on her life impressed me, as well as, the measure of devotion her parents passed on to her and all her siblings.

She was born on the second of January 1873 in Normandy, the ninth child of Louis and Zelie Martin. At this point her mother was 41 years old with failing health, considering she had 4 older siblings who died very young, as her health began to deteriorate she was sent to live with a wet-nurse until she was weaned. At the age of three, Therese declared her intention to become a nun much to the delight of her parents who although they desired to enter religious life were unable to. In fact, when Zelie was advised against entering the convent she asked that the Lord would make her the mother of many children, all dedicated to him.

Sadly, Zelie died in the summer of 1877. Therese felt the loss deeply and attached herself to her older sister Pauline, her 'petite mere'. Coming through the mourning the household continued in the pattern of a lifestyle that was devoted to both religion and piety...daily attendance at Mass, regular fasting, family prayer, religious reading, offerings and charity.

By all accounts Therese grew up doted on, even spoiled, when she entered the convent at 15 she did not know how to perform even very basic housekeeping tasks. After the death of her mother she was mothered by her sisters and indulged by her father, particularly as he saw and encouraged his 'Little Queen's religious inclinations. As she recalls her years growing up, it's easy to see how her personal piety made her socially awkward among her peers...she studied only for a short time in a day school, the years before and after she studied with a private tutor. Often she was concerned about being good and acceptable, fearing hell and longing for heaven, when her two oldest sisters entered the Carmelite convent in Lisieux it's easy to understand why Therese would long to enter along with them.

For a year after her 'petite mere' entered the convent Therese suffered with an illness that kept her in bed, with severe headaches and sometimes hallucinations. Her illness ended suddenly with a vision where a statue of Mary smiled down at Therese. From this point Therese is increasingly convinced of her call. Unfortunately, her father did not weather this illness well and suffered mini-strokes and bouts of depression. However, in the end he supported Therese's desire to enter the convent, which she did at age of 15 after receiving permission by appeal all the way up the ranks of the Church hierarchy to the Pope.

Interestingly, the Carmelite Order is quite strict. Their focus is on contemplating God and this is done by a strict schedule of prayer, fasting, silence. Their quarters, food and clothing is simple, austere. Rules for life are set forth and abided by. In 1888 from a life that was religious but indulgent, Therese entered a life of austerity and toil. And there she lived, cloistered until her death in September of 1897.

I think there are two things I want to reflect on. One was the evident delight that Therese found in devoting herself, yielding herself completely to what she felt was the call God had on her life. In a time when all that was expected of a woman was to marry well, bear many children and raise them, she longed for a deeper fulfillment in a profoundly spiritual experience of life. From the start there were many trials to life in the convent, they were strictly cloistered and only spoke to those outside the convent through a grate. And it was readily apparent that she was ill-equipped to perform the tasks assigned her; many thought her spoiled and useless and did not hesitate to inform her. It was in the midst of this that she received a wedding invitation from a cousin and as she had just 'taken the veil' (made the life vows) she responded with characteristic delight and wrote her own wedding invitation:

God Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth, Sovereign Ruler of the Universe,

and the Glorious Virgin Mary, Queen of the Heavenly Court,

announce to you the Spiritual Espousals of their August Son, Jesus, King of Kings and Lord of Lords,

with little Therese Martin, now Princess and Lady of His Kingdoms of the Holy Childhood and the Passion, assigned to her as a dowry by, her Divine Spouse, from which Kingdoms she holds her titles of nobility --

of the Child Jesus and of the Holy Face.

It was not possible to invite you to the Wedding Feast which took place on the Mountain of Carmel, September 8, 1890 -- the Heavenly Court was alone admitted --

but you are requested to be present at the wedding feast which will take place tomorrow, the day of Eternity, when Jesus, the Son of God, will come in the clouds of Heaven, in the splendor of His Majesty, to judge the living and the dead.

The hour being still uncertain, you are asked to hold yourselves in readiness and watch.

(This letter is modeled after a letter that the French at the time would have sent to inform friends of the marriage of their children)

As I read this again I feel the sheer joy I assume Therese had at recognizing her Saviour as her husband. It is not unlike the passage in Isaiah 54:5:

For your Maker is your husband-

the LORD Almightly is his name-

the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer;

he is called the God of all the earth.

For a young woman who sees that she will not pass through the rites of passage to womanhood that her culture dictates I find it fascinating that she fashioned them to fit her own situation. As she took her life vows she would be as a bride dressed in white wearing a traditional bridal crown of flowers...so she extended the marriage metaphor and completed the celebration with it's announcement.

I recently finished a biography of Therese that coloured much of what I had originally seen. The biographer seemed convinced that Therese suffered from repressed emotions and was not entirely truthful about how she really felt about certain events and interactions. She also waxed at length about the repressed rage, depression and mental illness of Therese's father. I do not believe that Therese and her family were without normal humanity, but I hesitate to call illness, 'hysterical' and a melancholy personality, 'clinically depressed'. It is of course important to remember that Therese wrote her autobiography in her early 20's, she died at 24; so we should expect a certain amount of naivety, simplicity and innocence. We should take it for what it is, a picture of a young woman who desperately wanted to please her Maker, and sought Him in every way she knew and in every way she was taught.

There is a lovely teaching she called the little way. This is some of what she said about her 'little way':

I feel that my mission is soon to begin-- my mission to make others love God as I love Him... ...it is the way of Spiritual Childhood, the way of trust and absolute self-surrender. ...We can never have too much confidence in the Good God, He is so mighty, so merciful.

Her little way is a way of confidence and abandonment. Confidence is a God of great love, mercy and forgiveness, and abandonment of one's self into His care. If I think of her as one who was coddled as a child, met God in that time and place and held onto relationship with God that looked like that of a child with a trusted parent. Keeping this in mind, she writes reflects that perspective and makes sense... and yet it is more foreign to what I, or we, experience in this day and time.

Could any of us walk in that kind of freedom, with that kind of security... ...?

How does a child relate to a parent? Well, if the child is sure of the parent's love and care then the child trusts and obeys...without question of the character of motivation of the parent... reckless abandonment!

Mystic Monday #1

2008-11-17T20:37:00.000-08:00

I was thinking that I might more regularly write if I gave myself a couple of topics to visit on a consistent basis. So here is the first topic...Mystics...

So to begin with we should probably look at what mystic means. From the straight up dictionary definition we get something like:

A person who claims to have attained insight into mysteries which transcend the ordinary or average through divine or spiritual revelations.

I suppose with a definition like that who could blame someone for thinking of a Eastern religion like Hinduism or Buddhism. But I want to specifically look at those mystics from the Christian tradition. I think to begin with I want to visit a number of women who have been are either self-professed or have been labeled as mystics.

The things that these mystics have in common is a pursuit of knowing God through Jesus Christ; which may or may not include experiences that might be considered or called supernatural or miraculous. The other thing that becomes clear as one reads their stories is that they have experienced a transforming power that causes the mystic to walk more like Christ and in closer communion with him.

One other caveat should be mentioned and addressed. Many of these people walked with God before the Reformation so their expression of faith may be a bit foreign to those outside the experience of the Roman Catholic, Orthodox or High-Church forms of Christianity. As far as I commit to pursuing understanding of the history of Christian Mysticism, I will also try to glean broadly assuming that God is capable of reaching us despite of our limited human perspective. To me this means that I am happy to set aside those things that are in my view cultural or historical constraints; and still find truth and insight for life.

Very broadly we can see a chronicle of mystical experience through the Old and New Testament. Unfortunately, we often grow so familiar with the stories that we forget the wonder and awe that came with our first hearing of the ways that the Creator connected with his creation.

And so today you just get a few thoughts and no names to 'google'. I want to be able to do my subject justice with little biographies and samples of writing. If nothing else happens watch this space next Monday for the first of my introductions .

Abortion, Americans, and the Election

2008-11-05T08:16:00.000-08:00

I suppose that this might seem like a moot point post election. But there is a number of things that I have been mulling over regarding the Presidential Election and the candidates...particularly the choices and reasons for those choices that American Christians have been voicing.

As a Canadian my choice for President of the USA is really rather irrelevant. However, I feel quite strongly that the US needs to do some serious work on it's global reputation in order to stem the anger and outrage that is directed her way. And I fully believe that Barack Obama is the kind of leader that the world can respect and in fact wants to work with.

In my meanderings online, I have come across some many indictments, mainly by Christians, of Obama's position on abortion and homosexuality. And it has got me thinking about the government's role in enforcing ethics and morality. Interestingly, I don't think that either issue played a substantial role in the preceding Canadian elections...the most recent event that brought abortion to the table was Dr. Henry Morgentaler receiving the Order of Canada.

I find it fascinating how government bodies choose to deal with those who object to their policies and decisions. Dr Morgentaler blatantly disregards the laws of the land, was tried and found guilty and then...honoured...? It makes me wonder if the KI six will one day receive the same honour...they did not harm any body. They researched their rights, followed the rule of law and were sidelined in favour of big business. When they enforced their rights based on law and precedent, they were arrested and jailed ...a doctor honoured for beginning the killing of unborn children...First Nation leaders shamed defending their land...but maybe this is a story for another post...

Back to the issue at hand, abortion and politics. I stand firmly on the side of the argument that says life begins at conception and abortion is tantamount to murder. But I faced an ethical dilemma now many years back that has pulled me back from the graceless position that makes no allowances for living in a fallen world where things go wrong.

Imagine, a young couple, entering ministry, expecting their longed for first child...but something goes badly wrong. The baby in utero is not well and the painful journey begins. Prayer vigils are held, fasting and long days in medical care. The baby will not live, baby will have massive organ failure upon birth and immediately die. The decision is made to continue on with the pregnancy in hopes of a miracle that will give them a baby. The journey turns now to a darker path, the mommy's life is now in the balance. She is put into hospital, continuing to hope that something might change. Now doctors are fearing the worse, mother and child are most likely going to die before this baby gets near full term. In the corner sits a young man facing the lose of wife and child in one catastrophic event... ...the unspoken solution is abhorrent... In their experience abortion was never a consideration, they would happily accept a child with a disability or abnormality, they would suffer the pain of a labour to hold and farewell their stillborn child.

I could not in good faith stand in judgement of them. How could I condemn a man to sacrifice his wife on the altar of 'abortion is always wrong'? I heard judgement from both ends, those angry that this man allowed his wife to be put in harms way for the sake of a child as good as dead, and those who said that no matter what the circumstances should run it's course, come what may.

When my eldest child faced certain death without immediate and expert medical intervention, we heard from both sides. If you hadn't have gone there this would not have happened, to if you feel like you were where you were supposed to be you should have stayed and buried her there. One one hand, we made a bad choice to go and then we made a bad choice to come back. Circumstances allowed to run their course would have killed her, appropriate medical intervention required us to pack up and head home; even then we were not assured that she would live, just that she had a chance to live.

Even as I write this I am aware that abortions done for medical necessity are not many. According to statistics in the US only 6% of abortions occur for health reasons, and 1% for cases where the mother was violated. But what about those with religious affiliations ... In the US self-identifying Protestants account for about 37% of those having abortions, another 31% call themselves Catholic. Of these women 18% are willing to identify themselves as born-again or evangelical.

Allowing for abortions for medical necessity and women who were violated that leaves about 229 000 babies being aborted by women who are in those same churches that have come out indicting Obama for his liberal position on abortion. If we are more generous with the level of commitment of men and women from non-Evangelical and Catholic churches then the Church at large becomes responsible for the abortions of nearly 900 000 babies annually.

Who are we to hold one man responsible for safeguarding the ethics of a nation when we are not the vanguard of those ethics within our outspoken and oft judgmental communities. Somewhere the reality of the lives of men and women in our churches is not being impacted by the message being taught.

Can morality really be legislated? Wasn't that what Jesus frequently exposed as hypocritical in most of his interactions with Pharisees? The Pharisees were charged with cleaning the outside and leaving their inner world strewn with dead men's bones (Matt. 23:27). Could we, the church, be in danger of being accused of the same level of hypocrisy? Are we, as Christians, cleaning up the visible life we live and storing up inner death?

I believe that Barack Obama is just a man. But he is a man who, in my estimation, has attempted to address issues in their complexity, who seems to have a sincere desire to reach out across social, political and economic lines and sounds prepared to engage the global community. It is time for the American Church to come behind their secular leader and pray for him. Not that he would become like you, or me, but that he would be well equipped for this task set before him.

At the same time we as Christians need to have our house cleaned. Maybe there are so many secrets because we are afraid of judgment. Maybe there are hidden wounds because we are not sure of the love and acceptance that is promised. Is it time for a revolution within the walls of the Church that seeks to be more like Jesus? ...more like Jesus in how we talk, more like Jesus in how we share, more like Jesus in how we work, more like Jesus in how we love?

Rambling of a woman hoping to be on the edge of new things.

2008-10-27T19:55:00.000-07:00

Wow, sorry for neglecting posting for so long...I am not even sure if anyone will check on my blog since I have been on hiatus for the last four months. It was not an intentional break, but a time where there wasn't a lot of actual conversations but a lot of inner conversation. I had one conversation that was cautionary about writing some of the thoughts we were discussing... I suspect that the statement wasn't meant to prohibit discussing 'hot topics' online, but just an angle on the potential downfalls of putting controversial thoughts out for all to see.

Am I settling here in this chilly little town...? Yes, but... I so miss life on the hillside sometimes that it overwhelms me. Then there are moments when I so enjoy life here that I don't think about being elsewhere. Sunday was a bit of the latter. A full house, lots of children, a little explore out of doors, snacks, crafts, laughter and conversation... I was so blessed to watch my house become a place full of life.

However, later that same day I found myself grieving the loss of an abundant life. And then I was picked up and put back together by understanding friends. It's amazing what a cup of tea, a bowl of Mama noodles and free conversation can do for the soul.

So I sit here looking forward and wonder... What is coming next? What role do I have to play in being faithful with what I am and have? Where will I wander?

To start with I will cease to wander through the night...without having my DH here I forget to go to bed on time. And I want to be out of doors as much as possible until the chill becomes bitter cold...the girls like to start the day with a stroll then launch into 'schoolwork'.

You know, I have dear friends who know without a doubt what they were made to do; and some who are doing what they were made to do with joy despite trials. It seems odd to me as my 36th birthday approaches that I wonder what am I made for and if I know how do I walk in that here and now...

Well, what can I say, watch this space...more thoughts from this woman, hoping that she will soon be able to laugh under a new hugging tree.

Are we factory farming our children?

2008-06-27T08:53:00.000-07:00

It has been an interesting time returning to our hometown after a near decade absence. Although, we visited during that time we were not connected enough to see systemic changes in the demographics or the institutions.

One obvious change is the transformation of Elementary Schools into Seniors Housing. I think I have seen near half a dozen sites in the city that this has happened. With the disappearance of the Elementary Schools comes the disappearance of the green spaces and/or play grounds that are part of the school ground. The land use changes so that trees are chopped down, play equipment dismantled and we 'pave paradise and put up a parking lot'. This may seem like a small thing, but the character of the neighbourhood changes. Houses become less family-friendly because there is less space to play and meet with neighbourhood friends. Maybe you could make the argument that the houses in these areas, and thence the neighbourhoods, become less community-friendly...to facilitate community there needs to be structures in place to support interactions and relationships.

Following this trend the mega-school model has been embraced...gather children and young adults from all over the city and pour them into a single large building. Of course, there are arguments about use of resources and maybe a spread sheet could show that the budget is less if one building replaces two or three other small buildings. But I wonder if all the extenuating factors are considered, such as carbon costs of longer commutes for both staff and students, relationship costs of larger classes, loss of interaction with families, change of relationships among students who have no means away from school to maintain contact with classmates.

As my dh and I were talking about these things he drew the comparison between factory farming and the model of education currently being implemented here. Herding children onto fenced in lots, packing them in buildings row on row, limiting physical contact...do we know that this builds healthy, well-rounded individuals? ...or has the god of convenience working alongside the god of profit-margins pushed us into missing the reality of what our society has been embracing?

As a mommy with four children the demographics of the city I live in matters, not so much in who is around, but how friendly the city is for children and families. Will it become more and more challenging to find free space for children to run, climb and explore? Will it become increasingly difficult to live life with my children or as a family?

The love of a parasite?

2008-06-22T19:01:00.000-07:00

If you have a relationship based on need, I can't survive without the energy that I draw from you. You have not reached a loving relationship; you have reached the relationship of a parasite. Bruxy Cavey, of the Meeting House said this in a sermon entitled A Revolution of Love.

This struck a chord with me today. In some ways I can say that this quote reflects my experience. As a young woman, I recall having an aversion to needing someone or to being so needed by someone...part of it was my own issues with being dependent on another; but also I did not want to be so vital to another that their happiness was hung on me...too much pressure!

And when it came to marriage I remember my husband to be saying that he didn't need me. At first blush this might be a terribly unromantic statement. I understood him to be saying I do not need to be with you, I want to be with you. The reason that I understood this was because he was speaking a reality that I was experiencing. I did not need to be married, but I really wanted to be, I chose to be.

There is a shadow in this that can help to illustrate my relationship with God...in some ways every single human being needs God and needs to be in relationship with Him. So I cannot say that I did or do not need God, but my need was not based on needing to subscribe to a social construct or social expectation. My need was birthed in the light of a deep desire to be living a meaningful life, I knew that this life needed to be connected to my Creator, my Father, who cares deeply for my well being and was complete without me, but still sought out relationship with me. There is a relief in God not being dependent on my love, and an honour to know that He wants it. For me this is a freedom to come to God as I am, warts, flaws, hurts, frustrations and all...no need to shield Him from what is within me...He already beholds it all.

Maybe I am a parasite, a bit of blue moss, on the tree that is God...but since He doesn't suffer from my presence, the relationship is not truly parasitic... I could maybe make an argument that is is symbiotic, as in commensalism...but that will have to wait for another time. For now I cling to the tree, sink myself into him and drink deeply of the nourishment he provides.

Let's keep it all in perspective

2008-05-07T10:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when life is overwhelming I can get so focused inward that I lose perspective.

Nine days ago a 12 year old boy died. He wasn't just any boy, but the son of friends. He was in our older girls' Sunday School class. He was a weekly presence in our life...and now he is absent.

The day after it happened we talked with our girls. It's so easy to see why Jesus commended the faith of children; our younger two accept the fact, qualify the fact with the truth of the afterlife and continue on with life. In these things they don't ask why, and they don't look for details.

With our older girls there is more happening. They have to grapple with their own mortality. They have to wrestle with the character of God, who presumably could have changed the course of events and did not. Then they deal with the loss that they feel; the sadness when his seat is empty on Sunday morning, the sadness they feel when they remember how he made them laugh, and the empathy that floods in when they think of his parents and siblings.

As for me... when the news was confirmed by a dear friend and the conversation turned to more mundane things I was asked, "So, how are you doing?" In light of all this, I really have nothing to complain about. My children are well, my husband is present and well, my family is mostly nearby, we have a roof over our heads and I can put food on the table.

And in the midst of tragedy, I am reminded of the burden of community. That which I long for also requires work of me. The work of being alongside and helping to carry those burdens whether in prayer or acts.

Several times in the last number of years we walked through the death of a young member of our community. One time it was my close friend whose son died the day he finished ninth grade. I didn't know what to do...I prayed... and then I listened. Words never seemed to offer the comfort I wanted them to hold. Time didn't heal the wound, but time allowed my friend and her family to find a new rhythm of life. Their son was gone but they were here and that meant that there was more life ahead of them.

We were all vacationing together about six months after the death and I was suddenly struck by the fact that this would be their first Christmas without him. I turned to my friend and cautioned her that this might be a sad time and to not be surprised if she felt the return of a measure of the mourning and loss that she felt earlier.

That winter we often talked of him and she told me about the things he liked to do and where he liked to go. We talked of his dreams and his childhood, his talents and his struggles. And it was a time of mourning and moving forward. I think that first year was the hardest whenever a first time passed and he was missing...first birthday that he's not at, first day of school that he didn't go, first Christmas, first New Year, first Easter, first Mother's Day, first Father's Day.... When another son of another friend died tragically, I watched her walk this same path...

I can say that these women are examples to me of the presence of God. Of course, scoffers ask where was your God when....? But the grace, peace and strength that rested upon these women in these most trying times was so evident. They become of the number who could comfort others with the comfort they received. They had authority to speak of suffering because they had walked through one of the most difficult sufferings imaginable.

So as I sit...still somewhat homeless, jobless with a foggy future stretching out before me, I am thankful for those things that I can count as blessings.

One of the things I count as a blessing was again to be able to witness the testimony of the real presence of God in the parents of the young man who died nine days ago. If God were not real and were not present how could they walk through the 'valley of the shadow of death' with such calm.

Often we look for the miraculous in things like the lame walking, the blind seeing and the dead rising. However, is it not miraculous to see those who are mourning being comforted, those who are suffering being cared for, those who are downcast being lifted up.

I had several other thoughts rattling around in my little head, but alas, life calls and they have submerged into the recesses of my mind.

So I conclude here with a few insightful thoughts of others:

As cold as everything looks in winter, the sun has not forsaken us. He has only drawn away for a little, for good reasons, one of which is that we may learn that we cannot do without him. --George MacDonald

The will of God is never exactly what you expect it to be. It may seem to be much worse, but in the end it's going to be a lot better and a lot bigger. --Elisabeth Elliot

Pain is never permanent. --Teresa of Avila

I am a LONE TOE.

2008-04-23T11:12:00.000-07:00

So, here I sit again...struggling with the lot before me.

I picked up a magazine on Monday called COMMUNITIES. It is a magazine dedicated to describing the characteristics and challenges of life in intentional communities. Actually, I picked up two issues Winter 2007 and Spring 2008...one focused on Women in Community. Now, this is not meant to be a ringing endorsement of all opinions expressed in the articles. However, it was good food for thought and helped me to realize more of the reasons why I long for community and why transitioning back into Western culture has been more difficult than I expected.

So I was thinking that a community is like a body, not dissimilar to the analogy of the Church being the Body of Christ. Using this picture there are then parts, some with similar functions, like fingers, some with complementary functions, like a knee and a leg, some with seemingly opposing functions, like the mouth and the 'other end'. Maybe I was a toe...one of many serving in a parallel role, part of the body in helping maintain balance and support the direction and movement of the whole.

Now, chop the toe off and send it on it's way. The body will continue to function, and soon enough another toe will join the remaining, but the lone toe is, just that, a lone toe. A toe can't do much while not attached to the foot.

I think that helps me to understand the challenge of settling back here. I am a toe, not currently attached, and not knowing where I aught to be joined in...of course, generally, one part has to be both interested in being part of a particular body and also be invited to join in with a particular body. So far, I sit...waiting for both the desire and the invitation eventually converge.

Longing for a reason to Celebrate

2008-03-23T12:03:00.000-07:00

Easter Morning by Frank Wesley

Easter Eggs, Groceries, and Old Friends

2008-03-21T08:01:00.000-07:00

Well, DH and I tried to pick up some essentials yesterday at the local Superstore. Wouldn't you know it...IT WAS CRAZY!!! We had grabbed a basket and began to fill it when we were overwhelmed by the number of people there; as well as the amount of cheap Easter memorabilia. So we shifted into reverse and escaped. There were no casualties, but a striking reminder that we are in the land of the CONSUMER!!!!

Of course, when we got up today and chatted with friends about doing something 'easter-y' today we remembered that not only were we low on a few items...but we had no eggs. We have not bought meat, dairy or eggs for the last few weeks. The dairy free part is the most recent move...although I seem to recall a bag of fish in the freezer as I sit here... so we are technically in process still. However, we are not as committed to meat free if the meat is ethically sourced...ie. acquired by hunting or free-range and organic. It's about allowing animals the quality of life that involves the least amount of suffering.

DH has been reading John Robbins' The Food Revolution; I read part of it this fall. I struggle with the graphic descriptions and so I skipped and skimmed through it in order to not fill my mind with disturbing images that result from my over active imagination. Anyway, this book is going along way to convince us that factory produced meat is a major threat to sustaining an environment that is conducive to life. And yet, the food industry seems to be relatively free of sensor from censure from the environmental movement, particularly in the part of the country which we now find ourselves. Interestingly DH caught a session at a recent Eco-Conference and was surprised to see and hear nothing addressing the issues of factory farming and its impact on water use and waste disposal....if you think of it not only do you need a lot of water to raise animals well, but they produce tons of 'poop' that needs to be put somewhere.

All that leads to our current position of not laying down a hard line with our diet but to think about where our food comes from and what the larger impact of that food choice is.

Well, I am trying to draw myself away from that 'bunny-trail' onto the larger stream of consciousness. Overwhelmed at the grocery store means no eggs among other things, no eggs means we have nothing to colour or to colour with...which leaves us wondering what to do for fun with our wee ones to commemorate and celebrate Easter.

As for 'Old Friends'...we had a lovely visit with old friends last night. It was nice to chat and know that they already love us and so we could be free to work things out in conversation. As we were making our way to the door we noticed a couple sitting at another table... A couple we had met years ago just up for the weekend...more reconnections... There is a funny feeling of joyous disconnect as you try to cover ten years of life in 2 hours.

And now to see what today entails...

Permeated by Ethics

2008-03-17T07:48:00.000-07:00

So DH and I are in the process of re-evaluating life. As some of you know I have been in the process of moving my diet towards a vegan diet. Currently, we are moving our family's diet towards a more ethical and sustainable pattern.

But we don't want to stop there... how much of our life can be moved to choices that are ethical, sustainable, in favour of social justice, supporting us being able to love our neighbours... How far can we move our life to becoming a good steward of all that we have been given?

I have heard it observed that often people read the teachings of Jesus and short circuit things by assuming that the teachings are good ideas but impossible to live out. This leads to our current 'experiment'. Can we follow Jesus's teaching today? How will it change our daily choices? Could our priorities be transformed?

If we are going to be good stewards of our bodies then what will we reconsider in our eating patterns? If we are going to be good stewards of the environment then what will we reconsider in lifestyle patterns? If we are going to be good stewards of our community then what will we reconsider in our consumption patterns?

I suppose all I can say at this point is:
Watch this SPACE.

I am hoping to chronicle our families movement over the course of the next while.

Now I feel like shopping.

2008-03-05T08:08:00.000-08:00

So DH and I were chatting about the parallels between the Roman Empire and the 'Empire' of today. DH came to the conclusion that the empire of today is the Empire of Consumerism. And on Monday night we had a great illustration of the way our children are groomed to become part of that 'Empire'.

The television in our house is hooked up to a DVD and that's all we watch on it...and that's enough. We do have the luxury of grandparents on the main floor who have a fantastic cable package that we can avail ourselves of on occasion. But I make serious attempts to limit that so that we are not a couch potato family! One of the things that I find particularly assaulting when watching television programs is the advertising campaigns. You could be watching a fairly innocuous home reno show and then have your confidence crushed by advertising that is intended to make you feel insecure so that you will find yourself needing the product being peddled.

So little girls had received a couple of DVDs that came with these very sweet little fairy dolls. In the DVDs go and on goes the promotional campaign for these little dolls. I didn't watch the stories but apparently they did their job. Once the video was finished and turned off little P turned to her daddy and announced, "...now I feel like shopping..." Marketing geared to children...effective and insidious.

It brings us to the question of how can we live not under the Empire of Consumerism? Can we change how we buy to reflect the 'subversive' ethics of our faith? Is the luxury of choice only available to the wealthy? Is it possible to make just choices that will become agents of change?

Celebrations

2008-02-27T08:15:00.001-08:00

We have come through two birthdays...my wee girls are now 6 and 4 years old. Evidence that life keeps moving on.

Some days I forget all the reasons I have to celebrate life. And these four lovelies are some of the top ten reasons to celebrate. Of course, my hubby is another...I suppose I could come up with 10 top reasons to celebrate life, but here are half of mine.

My days are filled with my girls...finally, homeschooling seems to be moving forward. I always say that it's an intense lifestyle, but it's so good for building relationships with children. I am so enjoying working through the children's version of The Case for a Creator with the girls; and supplementing if with some science facts from the original. I love reading that engaes my brain. Today we read about Micheal Behe's illustration of DNA and the cell using a Mouse Trap...things to think about...

More money thoughts!

2008-02-07T08:02:00.000-08:00

So...I think that I am just coming to terms with the differing reality of money here where we are now living.

Money can determine so many things. And is sets the boundaries for maintaining socio-economic classes...if you have money to spare you can maintain a particular image... Maybe this is what sends so many people deep into the sinkhole of debt.

I have been trying to learn about living green. Both my DH and I feel like we need to take responsibility for the impact we and our children have on the earth. If we are to be good stewards of the earth that has been given into our care then we need to be conscious of the impact of our choices. Along this vein, when we received news of a conference at a local college we both thought that this would be a good place to go and learn about the state of affairs in our region. Then this morning I was shocked to find the conference fee is $399. Now, you might think that is not too much to ask...

Here's my thought:

1) The conference is 2 days long providing breakfast and lunch each day. No dinner or accommodations are included in the conference fee.

2) $400 is one month's rent.

3) Change will happen when a majority of people see that change is essential. How can we convince people that climate change, care for the environment and personal impact matters if we leave a wide segment of the community behind?

Last week we watched the National Film Board's Refugees of the Blue Planet. FASCINATING!! I highly recommend it to anyone who thinks that climate change is a myth or at best hyped up propaganda meant to limit our indulgences. The documentary begins in the Maldives...a country seriously threatened by increasing devastating weather events as well as rising ocean levels...it then goes on to Brazil...a country whose natural resources are being ravaged by multi-national corporations. Finally, the film turns it's lens on Canada and the environmental refugees who are being displaced at the hands at the government in the name of progress and growth. One man asks: What are they going to do? Buy everyone's houses? And if they do that, where will we all live?

One statement struck me because of it's call to review how we look at economy:

We need to completely rethink econmoics to understnad that ultimately, what feeds us and nurtures us is the soil and the water, is the natural world; so at a certain level there is no distinction between the environment and the economy. We are dependent, ultimately, on natural resources, and natural resources have limits.

If we print bits of paper, and call it money and think that they way we are going to solve the world's problems is to look at the flow of paper money or electronic signals we have lost our sanity! We've got to get back to basics to understand that ultimately everything we need comes from the earth in the material economic sense. ~Helena Norberg-Hodge

Money is a funny thing. It has only the value that we attribute to it. It was developed for the sake of convenience. And now that convenience has become a necessity that controls us instead of freeing us.

Money thoughts!

2008-02-05T16:37:00.000-08:00

So, I have had several posts in process, but nothing that I have felt like I have been able to communicate the full extent of what I was trying to. That is my trouble with the monologue forum that a blog is!

But, here is my thoughts on money!

This weekend I happened to have the distinction of putting the first ding in our vehicle. I have my list of extenuating circumstances (read excuses)... icy roads, blowing snow, backing into traffic...

All that to lead up to my astonishment when I got the estimate from the dealer to repair the door. In my opinion all that the door needs is a little body work since... the door still works ...no tears in the metal ...no damage to the frame ... However the esimate is just slightly more than: $3000...

Shocking! Let me put this into perspective or shall I say in my perspective:

1) The van only cost around $18 000 +taxes. That makes the door repair about 1/6 of the cost of the entire vehicle.

2) $3000 is ample finances to keep my family of 6 for a month.

...huh...

Why would I spend one month of living expenses on repairing a door that works perfectly fine?

It's a bit like spending money on cosmetics...it's a nice thing to do ...it makes you feel good to have a little luxury ...but you wouldn't spend your last $10 on mascara when you have to eat!

Or buying a new outfit ...it's nice ...sure to bring in compliments ...it feels good to have a little luxury ...but you wouldn't spend your last $100 on new clothes when you have rent to pay!

Money is an odd concept...bits of paper yielded for goods and services...

As for the matter of the door, it will stay scuffed for the time being and serve as a reminder that I am the one responsible for it's current marred state!!

The sun always rises...

2008-01-15T07:30:00.000-08:00

There is certain types of music that just gives me a happy feeling inside....

Here's two:

The Storm is Passing Over -- T.D. Jakes
Take courage my soul and let us journey on,
though the night is dark and I'm still far from home;
praise be to God, the morning light appears
The storm is passing over (Lord)
The storm is passing over
The storm is passing over, hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah.

Birdhouse in Your Soul -- They Might Be Giants
I'm your only friend
I'm not your only friend
But I'm a little glowing friend
But really I'm not actually your friend
But I am

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

I have a secret to tell
From my electrical well
It's a simple message and I'm leaving out the whistles and bells
So the room must listen to me
Filibuster vigilantly
My name is blue canary one note* spelled l-i-t-e
My story's infinite
Like the Longines Symphonette it doesn't rest

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

I'm your only friend
I'm not your only friend
But I'm a little glowing friend
But really I'm not actually your friend
But I am

There's a picture opposite me
Of my primitive ancestry
Which stood on rocky shores and kept the beaches shipwreck free
Though I respect that a lot
I'd be fired if that were my job
After killing Jason off and countless screaming Argonauts
Bluebird of friendliness
Like guardian angels its always near

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

(and while you're at it
Keep the nightlight on inside the
Birdhouse in your soul)

Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch (and while you're at it)
Who watches over you (keep the nightlight on inside the)
Make a little birdhouse in your soul (birdhouse in your soul)

Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch (and while you're at it)
Who watches over you (keep the nightlight on inside the)
Make a little birdhouse in your soul (birdhouse in your soul)

Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul...

Actually, I just thought of one more:

The Lemonade Song -- Mitch McVicar
Jim came walkin' down the road
Singin' songs and hummin' on hymn tunes
Though he'd never set foot in a church on Sunday morning
The smile on his face looked kinda outta place
Considerin' the looks of his shirt and shoes
Made me wonder what kept him going

Spent most of his lonely young days
Working' downtown in the sawmill
And a childhood is somethin' he's never known
All the extra time he had on his mind
Every now and then his heart would spill
And he'd start singin' all the way home

Chorus
And he'd sing I, I don't know much
But I know a Love
And one day I'll be sittin' up in heaven on an easy chair
Sippin' lemonade, love lives there

Round 'bout that time the bells chimed
And the church doors flew open
And a whole herd of saints came runnin' along Jim's way
Talkin' 'bout salvation, hope and love
And everything else they didn't know about
And when they saw Jim all of that changed

Now it takes a special kind of man
To avoid a confrontation
And everywhere Jimmy looked he had nowhere to go
They started throwin' out names,
Throwin' punches, and throwin' laughter
And when they were through, blood was drippin' from his nose

Chorus
And he sang I, I've heard about blood
I think it stands for Love
And one day I'll be sittin' up in heaven on an easy chair
Sippin' lemonade, loves lives there

Now Jim knew what he had inside of him
And wouldn't hear nothin' different
The moral to the story is he just keeps on keepin' on
Now he ain't whitewashed,
You won't find him on the corner prayin'
He just knows his Love and knows his song

Chorus
And he sings I, I got all I want
'Cause I've got my love
And one day I'll be sittin' up in heaven on an easy chair
Sippin' lemonade, love lives there
Yeah, one day I'll be sittin' up in heaven on an easy chair
Sippin' lemonade, love lives there
Yeah, one day I'll be sittin' up in heaven on an easy chair
Sippin' lemonade, love lives there

I suppose if I was more clever or more energetic I'd figure out a way to post the songs so that you could listen to them...but it is late and morning always comes sooner than expected.

2008-01-12T12:46:00.000-08:00

...my ancestors were homeless refugees.... Rob Bell

I was thinking that I needed to return to my blog...not just need to, but really want to. So as I was listening to a sermon from Mars Hill(see side bar for link) this quote jumped out at me. That's us...not to belittle the obvious real trials of refugees fleeing their countries due to war, famine or other natural disasters, but that we are wanderers and there is a history of wandering inherited through our faith.

Currently, we have nearly successfully downsized into an apartment. The area of the apartment is somewhat short of 700 square feet... that's more than 100 square feet per person- not bad! The space is organized with a couple of key flash-points. The counter of the dresser in our bedroom is always cluttered...any suggestions? And the craft/school room is in need of an inventory; so it's still in process. Other than that we are snug above my folks for the time being...for how long...can't say...but that's the nature of being a wanderer.

The story of wanderers always touches me. Abraham and Sarah on the move are just well known figures who are representative of many people who live nomadic lives today...Bedouins...Roma...Masai...Tibetans...

While we lived in England I became familiar with a term that was used to describe nomads living in the English context...travellers. No...I didn't just misspell traveler. But those people who traditionally may have been called Gypsies...or more correctly Roma or less specifically transients, drifters, ... all fall under the term travellers. As I was looking for support for settling in I continued to see the term and programs specifically aimed at these people. I thought the term dear and thought, "Yes...that's what we are...travellers." Only later did I discover that the term was generally used in disdain for a people who were looked upon as a nuisance.

This is the story of Nomads in conflict with the tendencies of the main stream. And as I wonder about the origins of 'cities' I recall the story of Cain...the one who slay his brother Abel. He is the first man who is attributed with the distinction of building a city. He named it Enoch, after his son (for more details see Genesis Chapter 4). You see, God had told Adam and Eve to fill the earth...but Cain, as was his habit, tried to live life his own way, he built a city to gather together.

There is some measure of security in living together with others. In times more uncertain than our own...yes, there were ages plagued by far greater insecurity for the common man...banding together made sense. You could take care of each other, defend each other, share with each other...and in order to do that you needed to live in closer proximity to others. Yet, there was still a very real connection to the land. It was the land that provided everything for life. You can see the way that land was allotted in long narrow strips so that homes could all be built at a common end, was a way of facilitating community while still living off your own land.

...now nomads...they experience life from a different perspective... The land is communal; it is shared space...belonging to all and not to any. This makes everyone responsible for use and abuse of the land. The principle of walking lightly on the earth is common sense to these kinds of communities. Since they see the land as shared, implicit in this is the fact that the resources need to be enough for all...there must be enough to go around...so the attitude becomes there is room for all.

Interestingly, nomads have always had and continue to carry the burden of being marginalized and misunderstood by the societies that they travel through. Most refugees can bear this experience out...not able to go home and yet not able to belong where they stay...powerless and at the mercy of the world around them. I think that through the ages Christians have found themselves in this position...even today Christians continue to be "not able to go 'home' and not able to belong where they stay.

Maybe I am generalizing my own experience... Life always seems easier to handle when I remember that I am heading towards home. That way I am not expecting to arrive just yet and it changes what I expect here and now. I was particularly saddened in a conversation that expressed disdain in the attitude that "this world is not my home"... The reality is that this world is not my home and so I can move through the world as a nomad coming and going as I am sent or called.

The past six months have been difficult for a number of reasons, but one is that I think I lost sight of the fact that we are one journey and any stop on the way is temporary whether that means days, weeks, months or years. I need to revisit my attitude and adjust my vision so that I can say with joy and conviction that I am heading home and so that it's okay if I don't belong wherever I find myself.

In the meantime, as I am working it out, I find comfort in the fact that there is a home waiting for me:

"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going." - John 14:1-4

and everything I need will be there for me:

...an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you! - 1 Peter 1:4

I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." - Revelation 21:3-4

I think if I can truly embrace this reality I will be able to live a simpler and more satisfying life in the midst of the disappointments of life. I suppose as you follow my blog you might be able to draw your own conclusions as to whether I can apprehend this reality...or not!

On the move again...

2007-12-06T08:31:00.000-08:00

Yup, it's that time again time to pack up and haul ourselves to a new home. Despite the fact that the tone of that sentence might seem grudging...I am actually looking forward to a new beginning.

We will vacate this house this month and move into an apartment above my parents house. So we have all our possessions in one location and now it's time to do some serious downsizing. There are six bins in the basement...one for each of us...this it the limit of keepsakes...I am currently the worst offender. My bin is the fullest, mostly with bits of writing. I am always amazed at how much I have written down for no particular reason than to record my thoughts. I suppose there is a cathartic effect from just writting out the thoughts that run through my mind.

Anyway...summer clothes inhabit a few bins and craft things another...slowly I am sifting through things that have been stored away for most of the last 10 years. Funny to come across photos of old friends...letters from people, whose memory had faded...cards from relatives...old clothes...old books... The most disconcerting thing that I frequently come across is half-done projects...I am hoping to redeem some of these in the coming few months.

Meanwhile out in the snow...there is fun for all.

The girls were wondering how we would get any homeschooling done with all the fun to be had outside in the snow. So snow forts are being constructed...snow angels dot the landscape...paths weave to and fro over the piles of snow. And homeschooling is being resumed as the temperatures being to dip down.

Serious Snow!

2007-12-02T16:58:00.001-08:00

Well, we already have a downfall of about 25cm...and I think today's snowfall has added another 20 cm or so.

It is so beautiful...the girls are having fun building a snow village. Little ones are learning to wear layers. Big ones are learning snowball etiquette. And I have a cold...so I am enjoying the snow from the otherside of the frosty windows.

Now that I have been learning more things about climate change there is not only a sense of nostalgia about heavy snowfall, but of relief for the coming year. AS for the aesthetic of Thunder Bay, it is a happy place in the snow...everything glistens, particularly in the evenings under the street lights. The lights cast a warm pink glow on the freshly fallen snow...lending an inviting feel to a bone chilling night.

It's funny how I can remember the joy of 'snow days'. I have a distinct recollection of walking home bundled up so that the only part exposed to the elements were my eyes. My eyes peeked beneath the top wrap of my woolen scarf, squinting against the blowing snow. My mother firmly held my hand on one side and my brother's on the other...the only difference between him and I was his snow wear was in blue tones and mine in rusts. And we knew that a warm house waited for us...probably with hot chocolate and cookies by a wood fire all helping to fortify us against the weather battering the world on the outside.

For all we have progressed as a civilization the weather serves as a tangible reminder of our slot on the totem pole being lower than we think and less influential than we hope. From tornadoes to tsumanies, floods, storms, and snow... these are all events that we can see coming but we cannot stop them. They run their course oblivious of the upheaval that they wreak on our lives.

Even today...nothing moved until the snowploughs were out. And then nothing moved until you dug through the heap of packed snow that was left at the end of the driveway by the ploughs. Up until this moment the buses are running on limited schedules and people need help to do the things that were easily accomplished last weekend...

Maybe as we sit in our homes we should be mindful of the protection afforded by the houses that are our shelter...to be mindful of the protection afforded by the God that is our shelter...

The wisdom of the Three Year Old

2007-11-11T05:46:00.000-08:00

As P was sitting on us this morning she expounded on life including this gem:

If you are being silly, and cute and funny; you still have to obey!

WIsdom out of the mouth of babes.

Having trouble with photos...

2007-11-10T16:41:00.000-08:00

I think I found a way around the trouble I have been having with posting photos. I am really not sure why I have had recent difficulty with using the 'add image' feature on Blogger. I am open to advice on how to get it working. In the meantime, the Picasa program that we have been using for our photos has a feature that helped me work my way around the problem.

So here's the girls in the recent week...

Here is a picture of the girls out at "The Last Resort". We had a lovely day exploring the woods with the Senior Carlsons. It was so fun to be able to look at the trees and talk about them. So the girls learned the differences between a Balsam, a Pine and a Spruce.

The first snowfall of the year...the girls with some of the Pacholczak children, all enjoying the fun; however today the snowman they built is standing in a field of green grass. Oh well, I keep assuring the girls that more snow will inevitably come.

Here are the girls with the young Kuchta kids...we had an evening fire in the snow, roasted marshmellows and made snowballs.

Let it snow...

2007-11-09T07:54:00.000-08:00

So there is snow on the ground...

M spent all day on Wednesday waiting for the snow to stay on the ground. Flurries were falling all afternoon, finally by late afternoon the snow had begun to accumulate. So we dug out snowy weather clothes and off the four of them went into the blustery night.

At one point, A ran in and asked what was wrong with her hands. Of course, they were red and cold...dry mittens sorted out the problem. It wasn't until we spent some time with friends that the older girls realized snow pants are just what everyone wears...Mommy wasn't trying to inflict cruel and unusual punishment when she was trying to get them to wear these new article of clothing.

Over the past couple of days the ground has been covered with about 2 inches of snow. It's now mid-morning on Friday and the snow has melted so that green grass in peeking through in increasingly larger patches. The girls are a bit distressed that the snow isn't staying longer...I keep reassuring them that the winter will be long and more snow will come. It's fun seeing winter through their eyes...a new and exciting phenomenon.

For me, the onset of winter fills me with nostalgia...being bundled up and walking to school, snow forts, sliding, evenings skating with cups of hot chocolate, hockey, snow banks...

After being away from the seasons of Canada, each passing season reminds me of the things I love...the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth...the continual renewal of life...seasons of rest and sleep followed inevitably by seasons of growth and harvest.

Reflecting on this leads me to step back and look at my life. I wonder if I am just in that season of rest and sleep, where the harvest is in, the ground has expended its resources and the time is for rest. Which then should lead me to approach my current circumstances in a different manner. I should not be taking on new responsibilities, but looking to invite things into my life that are nuturing. I should not look for harvest, but prepare for the dormancy of winter.

To Pasteurize or not to Pasteurize, that is the question.

2007-10-18T04:22:00.000-07:00

So, I watched an interesting movie last night...in fact, I was helping host it as part of the Fall Series being put on by the Environmental Film Network. It was the National Film Board's film The Fight for True Farming. What was almost more interesting than the film...and the film was very interesting...was the conversation and discussion afterwards. Fortunately we had a couple of local farmers in the audience who could speak from experience about the situation in Ontario. The film focuses more on the agricultural practices and issues related to Quebec, Europe and a few American states. Apparently there is wide range of diverse practices that may be more or less acceptable to various people and organizations.

It has returned me to the consideration of buying organic food for my family. The largest hurdle in implementing this is of course the added expense. It seems that the cost of organic food products is almost prohibitively expensive. It's already a challenge to eat 'mostly' vegetarian meals at home, never mind trying to make all those meals from only organically grown foods. At the same time I value the principles behind organically grown foods. The testimonies of some farmers reveals that they feel that they are healthier, their soils are healthier and their produce is better after choosing to embrace organic practices. I want to be able to affirm this trend because at so many levels it appears to be a good thing, but I am not sure how to do it?

However, there was one interesting topic of conversation...the Milk Marketing Board. Apparently, there is a board that takes care of all the milk produced in Canada. The milk is collected from farms according to the quota the farmer has purchased. Then it is tested for safety, particularly the presence or absence of bacteria and antibiotics. Interestingly, Canada does not allow for any antibiotics in it's milk and prohibits the use of bovine growth hormone to increase a cow's milk production. But what piqued my interest was the prohibition of farmers selling any of their milk privately. This means that if anyone purchases raw milk, or buys directly from a local farmer they are breaking the law. Even the local cheese factory has to buy back it's milk from the marketing board. In fact in Canada, it is even illegal for a farmer to give away raw milk. This is another example of, what I perceive as, over-regulation by the Canadian government. There is no space to make an informed decision to do otherwise... this is the way it's done, no negotiation.

Now, while we were living on the hillside for a number of years I bought milk from a dhood-walla (milkman). His son would come to the house every evening with milk. I always pasteurized it myself...even though it was fresh and warm... The reason I pasteurized it was that I could not be sure that the milkman did not add a little bit of water to stretch his milk a little farther. Well, if the water was clean, I would have less worries, but the water, as all the water on the hillside, was badly contamination...typhoid, hepatitis, amoeba, giardia are all endemic on the hillside. So in reality we would not be just dealing with whatever would be naturally occurring in the milk, but all the other 'contaminants' in the water system. This was not a risk I was willing to take with our health, as it was in our time there we dealt with two family members contracting typhoid...not fun!

With this in mind, I can honestly say that I understand the purpose for which a standardizing system was set in place ...and why it was important to ensure that farmers could sell the milk they produced at a fair price... However, maybe it is time to open the market up a little. Allow farmers to continue with their quotas being delivered to the market board, whereupon the milk is tested, pasteurized and distributed for a fair market price. But let's not be afraid of diversifying a little, we all know the truth is most people will continue to buy their dairy products as they have always done. Those who are interested in buying local, buying raw, buying organic, constitute just a small portion of the market and their demands could be easily supplied.

I find it interesting that a couple in Southern Ontario have been fighting the issue of selling raw milk and other dairy products outside the control of the Milk Marketing Board. Michael and Dorthea Schmidt have been rebuilding their business since charges from the mid-1990s, revolving around the sale of these unregulated dairy products nearly decimated his livelihood. They had been running a cow leasing scheme to try to circumvent the Marketing Board regulations that you could only drink raw milk produced by your own cow. Currently, they are trying an avenue where there is joint-ownership over cows to allow their clientele to continue enjoying what they believe are the benefits of drinking raw milk from cows that are grass-fed.

What are the real issues according to the Schmidts?
"People are waking up to the fact," says Michael, "that the issue of raw milk has nothing to do with protecting the public and everything to do with protecting those who control the food supply."

This leads me back to my original thoughts...I am not really against pasteurization, but I think that in a society that claims so many freedoms we should have the freedom to buy the milk we want from the farmer we want...

And the truth is those of us who are left behind, are not the resistant or necessarily keepers of the status-quo, but often times the poor, who have no choice but to take what we can get. Maybe the issues reflect as much on the state of market controls, as issues of health and social justice.

Where does our food come from? Are we free to make food choices according to conscience and preference? How far does the influence of those who control our access to food really reach?

Chase the blues away and the autumn hues come in.

2007-10-16T20:44:00.000-07:00

I realize that I have been a bit negative in the past few posts...sorry about that. It's a bit indicative of my state of mind...not exactly negative, but drifting towards to tragic rather than the comic in life.

For example I was walking in the yard last week, enjoying the crisp air of the beginning of fall. As the leaves crunched beneath my feet I inhaled the sweet aroma, I thought about how delightful the atmosphere is...crisp, clean, fresh and yet full of the smell of the earth... As I reflected, my thoughts turned to the fact that the smell that filled my nostrils was essentially the odor of decay... Of course, it reminded me of a Philip Yancey anecdote...he wrote in one of his books (my paraphrase): Even as I try to think about life and birth my thoughts drift to the tragic. Take mayflies, I might begin reflecting on the delicacy of the translencent wings...but I then find myself musing on the fact that they live for simply one day...which leads me to the thoughts of my own mortality and the brief moment we live on this earth...

I guess as we explore a new life, we are looking for a new 'normal'. A pace and pattern of life that feels good for all of us...right now, most days it's still alot like life just "happens to us."

The DVD Player...a metaphor for life at the moment

2007-10-07T11:10:00.000-07:00

So...as many of you know I have recently returned to Canada. One of the things we brought along was a DVD player that we bought. The reason we brought it with us was that it played all the DVDs that we owned.

It was an interesting revelation to us, when our laptop DVD player stopped working while we were in England, to learn that a device intended to be carried with one around the world had a version code restriction. That meant that the DVDs we had purchased in Canada and the UK and Asia could not be played on the same machine.

Think about the logic of that...a laptop...a computer made for the express purpose of being able to be carried with you wherever you roam...had geographic restrictions. Although, the manufacturers cottoned on the fact that different continents have different voltages so most laptops are made to accept from 110 to 220 V. The thought process did not extend to dealing with version codes on DVDs.

That all leads up to our DVD player. We have one that plays all the DVDs that we bought. And we have legitimately bought DVDs on three continents...let's not even get into the fact that in many places it would have been easier and cheaper to buy pirated DVDs. These are not pirated DVDs, just DVDs bought in several different geographic locations...and they all work on this one player. So we packed it up and brought it here only to discover that it wasn't as simple as connecting it to a television and popping in one of our DVDS. Apparently there is some issue with the signal sent from a DVD Player from one continent being received by a television from another.

I guess that's a little illustration on the hurdles of cross-cultural communication. When we say one thing we don't really know if the 'signal' is being 'received'. It's only with interaction...verbal responses, body language, facial expressions...that we then 'get' whether the signal has been understood. I think that I am seeing that when you modify your signal...it's not so simple as to return to the previous wavelength you were operating on...

So our DVD player is a useful tool...however in this context currently unusable... In someways that's what we feel like here...the life we lived overseas has been useful for growth and maturity...but it doesn't feel all that usable here. What is the next step for moving forward?

...time...maybe? Someone recently thought that since we took seven years to get to where we are, maybe we need to give ourselves seven years to get back to where we were. A simple answer and yet comforting to be afforded that much grace to work through our transition.

However, I think both B and I agree that we don't want to go back to who we were. We are hopefully older and wiser than we were a decade ago. We have benefited from input of a wide range of friends...with their worldviews, perspectives and experiences impinging on ours and each of us shifting the others 'signal'.

In all this I am looking for an easy way to make my 'signal' readable by all the people I come in contact with. Not just for my own sake, but for the sake of building community and understanding. There is an approach to differences that is tantamount to putting one's head in the sand...it's not working, toss it and buy a new one... Which is a plausible solution to our current DVD/TV compatibility problem, but not such a gracious attitude when the 'signal' being sent is coming from another living, breathing, feeling human being. I want to advocate for a sincere way to be a global citizen, where we forget to call our life experience normal, but simply and uniquely our experience and in that place remember that the other before us has a life experience that is simply different than ours.

In the end I guess this is part of why I continue to try to let go of expectations. I have found them to be a burden that leads me to disappointment and then discontentment. When the frequency is not communicating what it should I need to adjust the signal and try again...or maybe I am still at the place of looking for how to make that adjustment?

In the midst of trying to communicate with the outside there is a struggle to reconcile on the inside. Of course, the DVD player doesn't know that it is useless here...but maybe we are feeling like we are... Not towards our friends and family, but in the place of looking for a space that we fit, that place that we know we are walking out our vocation, that place where the day's work is satisfying, not overwhelming, not draining...oh, for life to be flowing from a place of bounty instead of deficit.

Ups and Downs

2007-09-29T16:29:00.000-07:00

This week has been a mixed bag...nothing too exceptional. However, getting the house sorted as our shipment arrived (WA-HOO!!!!) has been nearly as stress inducing as packing it up was.

Suddenly, we were all hit with the knowledge that we have left the hillside. That chapter of life was concluded. We were no longer on vacation. A new rhythm needs to be established here in this place. The thing is we all...without exception, from the biggest to the littlest...love the life we left. To be sure there were challenges and disappointments, but there are relationships and roles that were fulfilling and satisfying.

Our house has assumed a flavour of Asia...carpets and wall-hangings, pillow covers and dishes... Books, books and more books...for the girls, for homeschooling, for me, for B...novels, learn-to-read books, travel books, text books, atlases, learn-Hindi books, and religious books of numerous stripes and leanings. And clothes, not too many, but favourites...I unpacked about four saris...and then wondered where to take them to be dry cleaned.

Then wondered where I would wear my lovely saris...well, we are sharing at an upcoming conference and so I think I'll be sari-clad for the weekend. I must seize the opportunities that come my way. Saris are not typical attire in this part of the world. I know, you probably think they aren't typical attire for much other than South Asia. But in urban England and the mega city of Toronto and probably many other cosmopolitan locations they are not as uncommon as one would think. And I feel like a sari is one of the most universally appealing and attractive garments for women available anywhere in anytime. They fold and pleat and cover and swish. The very nature of the outfit makes you stand taller and move with elegance. And that's not to mention the variety and detail of the fabric...patterns, borders, sparkle, shimmer, beading, embroidery...whatever your fancy there is one that will appeal to your taste and the occasion.

...so I didn't expect this to turn into an accolade of the sari...

But I began thinking of the fact that in the midst of delight there can be the pang of loss and regret.

And then as all this was upon us, life carried on. Studies needed to be tended to. Jobs needed to be completed. Food needed to be made. Children needed to be fed. Commitments called from every direction... That just about did me in. I didn't know how I would keep track of everything that needed to be done, never mind get it done...and each day seemed to add another obligation...some desirable and some burdensome.

Yet, as I look over the week I was blessed by having three women listen to me. And it was me and my woes and worries and wanderings... Looking at the three women in my mind it makes me marvel that I could have three such different voices speaking to me and the result be so similar. I felt like they had space for me...I felt invited into their lives.

B and I have been tossing around thoughts about the future...nothing clear...it feels like we are moving in a particular direction, but where it's leading is anything but clear. I think that's what's making it hard to find the energy to reenter life here. By now, you would think that I should have embraced the reality of all of us passing through each others lives and to savour the moments given to us. And in many ways while I was staying still I found it easy to welcome people into our life, for a meal, a weekend, a month and longer... But with me being the one on the move, coming to terms with uncertainty and transition, it feels harder to reach out and enter in.

Dictates of culture?

2007-09-19T06:56:00.000-07:00

Well, to start off, apparently with our new Mac I have to find another program to be able to use all the fun blogger features. I may just try editing with Brian's laptop...ahhhh, the joys of being a two computer family!

But, I was thinking about the concept of truth...maybe you should call truth a construct, I am not sure. In fact, I am taking a stream of consciousness break to find definitions that I can hang my thoughts on...

So according to Dictionary.com, a concept is: a general notion or idea; or a directly conceived or intuited object of thought. It is also a possible synonym for construct, which is defined as: an image, idea, or theory, especially a complex one formed from a number of simpler elements.

Possible distinctions are the a concept is a bit of thought, something you concieve in your mind, where as a construct, while having the same elements of being a bit of thought, also has the element of a more complex thing formed of simpler parts. So I suppose the truth is in this case being the simplest thing a concept...and then being made palatable by coming under the shelter of tact and diplomacy it is then more of a construct.

Let me back up a moment... I found myself fielding questions in an impromptu discussion period this past week. Now, I should clarify that I was not uncomfortable doing this, but upon conclusion of the session I was told that I presented a bleak picture of the topic of conversation. Now, for interests sake, I am going to try not to mention the issue being discussed because the general consensus will likely be that the situation is bleak. If you chose to see the situation as not 'bleak' then you are considering angles that would not normally impinge on the course of thought pertaining to this issue.

But for argument sake, let's say I presented an unfairly bleak picture then what should my response be. I am thinking that my response should be one of apology and self-correction. But what if I told the bare truth and offended an observer, should I then also apologize and self-correct for the sake of the offended party. Now, what if the offended party is a guest, does it then bear more heavily on me to apologize?

For me I felt put in an unbearable situation, where the implication was put out that I was presenting an unfairly impoverished senario, and yet I knew that the things I spoke of and the examples I used were true, in fact they were verifiably true. And the hardest thing was to choose my response: 1) to stick to the truth and bear with those around me who were trying to improve the opinion of the situation or 2) back up and affirm the new angle being endorsed, for the sake of peace and comfort for the guest and host.

I tried to walk the line...and succeeded in feeling offended, misunderstood and misrepresented...not a successful end to an otherwise enjoyable evening. In the course of the follow-up conversation it was implied that:
1) I was generalizing something that is specific and local.
2) I did not understand the context I was speaking of.
3) I was causing a stir to garner sympathies.
4) I was behaving in a patronizing manner, espousing outdated sympathies alongside some stripe of fundamentalist.
5) I knew no more than an immature, inexperienced do-gooder.

Needless to say I walked away feeling like I had spoken to the ostrich and his partner. And I had the distinct thought that I was just scolded for telling inappropriate stories. Now, I must add that I was often in situations while living in the UK where I knew that my observation, opinion or experience was incongruent with generally accepted norms. In that case, I realized that I was being culturally out-of-step and changed the conversation direction and the other parties involved cheerfully joined in the new direction...

All this leads me to the question:

Am I culturally out of step here?

That is a very sad thought.

Passion, Productivity and Pay

2007-09-13T05:34:00.001-07:00

So I am all wired up with my new task...part of the steering committee for the newly formed collaborative organization called the ENVIRONMENTAL FILM NETWORK.

We had the first showing of the National Film Board's TOXIC TRESPASS. A fantastic, although somewhat disturbing documentary on the state of health and the environment in the Windsor - Sarnia region. The plan is to follow this film with three others this fall, once a month, and see if we can maintain a level of interest that will sustain the network. I am so excited. It feels like it had been a long time since I could really sink my teeth into something that I feel passionate about...maybe that's not entirely true.

There has been plenty of things I felt passionate about, but through circumstances they have been stripped away. This feels like a new thing that I can invest time and energy and feel like I am making a contribution to the community I now find myself in. To tell the truth I am really hoping this can turn into a way that I can earn enough to make a significant contribution to supporting the family.

This convergence of passion, productivity and pay is the way to go. I feel passionate about the topic...the work isn't burdensome, I enjoy it and we have had a measure of success...so now the icing on the cake would be to be able to be paid for doing all this...we'll see...

I was thinking about clothes...

2007-09-08T11:49:00.000-07:00

How cliched is it to write a post about clothes...especially if the writer in question is a woman...

But I was thinking about clothes...nice clothes...comfy clothes...clothes that say something, literally and clothes that say something figuratively.

Thers is a funny thing about how we present ourselves. I once was told that people don't dress for themselves, but for others. At the time I was in High School and vehemently protested that gross generalization...but as I get to know myself I wonder whether the kernal of truth in that statement applies to me more or less these days.

As some of you who know me might know is that I have a particular penchant for bright colours, patterns and things with textures. Given that having a proclivity to either of these would make dressing oneself interesting...the combination can produce 'interesting' results.

While in High School and University, I wore a 'devil-may-care' attitude in regards to my clothing because I could. I knew that I was smart enough to be able to command respect even if my clothing reflected a less than intelligent persona...the interesting thing was the cheekiest comments were usually muttered by other women in my classes. I think that there could have been a number of reasons for this but by far the most gracious thing for me to think is that she was bothered by women looking too 'unprofessional' and therefore not being given the respect they deserved. I must add that I was studying in a male dominated program.

Looking back I can see that I was really resisting being put into that box labeled 'PROFESSIONAL WORKING WOMAN'. Not that there is anything wrong with the box, but it wasn't a good fit for me then or likely even now. A few months back I quoted Erin from Dress-a-Day talking about Dressing for FUN (//www.dressaday.com/2007/07/moths-in-pocketbook-caution-long-entry.html)...I am still working that out.

I would like to be able to dress for fun...Since our shipment of 'stuff' has yet to arrive...only one month late at this point; I have had to buy clothes. Now, I must confess a overly frugal streak in buying for myself. WIth all the necessities of life, my mind still tells me money should not be spent on clothes for me. Throw this in contrast with wanting to have beautiful things and you can imagine the turmoil I am in when I go shopping for myself.

But I bit the bullet this week and shopped for me...There was a Half-Price sale at Value Village and then Happy Hour at the Sally-Ann with half-price clothes...and I thought I was done. Of course, I am also not a great planner...not a great matcher and so I ended up with pretty things that didn't cost much but didn't match much either.

Here again I become thankful for my hubby...he is good at plannning, matching and spending. He went grocery shopping this week and I made a negative remark which I had to apologize for. He likes to buy the girls nice things and have treats in the house; and so when he went shopping he bought nice things and treats...and spent more than I would have liked.

But here I am trying to correct my thoughts about money, to change my view of money as a limited resource to money as a renewable resource and I got caught. I want to be able to know and believe that money is renewable and so I don't have to be stingy...so I was tested and found my attitude back at money as a limited resource.

All of that brings me to today...we had a full morning. Dance class for P and A...nothing as cute as that; although P came out of class saying in a very mournful kind of way with a hint of disdain, "We didn't do Ballet, we did songs!" Then we all went to Home Depot for the FREE Children's Seminar...birdhouse building. Then it was time for a snack. The big girls and B had bought Persians( a particularly Thunder Bay treat...a doughnut style cinnamon bun with Strawberry Icing) and I wanted something to do while they snacked...sale at Cotton Ginny...should I?...shouldn't I?

And B kicked me out of the car with some cash to go and see what I could find. Well, it was summer clothes and I didn't want to spend on summer clothes; or so I thought. In the end I bought a whole outfit...skirt, t-shirt and jacket for $20...and it's lovely. And I realize that even compared to buying used clothes, that's a good deal. And because B sent me in I thought about matching and co-ordinating...and it does. And it's colour and texture and it will be happy to wear...and it co-ordinates with the clothes I bought earlier this week. So I sorted and tried on things and purged and my closet is not full, but it has things I like, things that feel nice, things that have colour and things that fit...happy am I.

Now what about shoes...???

I don't remember where I was when I heard that Princess Di had died!

2007-09-02T17:26:00.000-07:00

I was listening to the radio on Friday as I drove around shopping for work...not the best thing to be doing on the Friday of a holiday weekend. As I listened I heard bits and pieces of segments on the death of Princess Di. As I listened to CBQ, I heard a call in asking the question, "Where were you when Princess Di died, or when you heard the news?"

...so I thought about it...

And I realized that I don't know...Of course, it was a tragedy; a life cut short in a senseless and frivolous manner is always a tragedy. But it wasn't a significant event in my world. In fact, for me it was eclipsed by the death of two other "celebrities". As I thought about the death of Princess Di, I remembered that she died in the same week as Mother Theresa and near the same time as the Christian singer/songwriter Rich Mullins. Only just now I checked and found out that Mother Theresa died on the 5th of September and Rich Mullins, on the 19th...not as close as my mind had led me to believe.

Even now as I think about it I still have this sense that the death of these other less known benefactors has been more of a blow to the people who they were serving. It would be silly for me to overlook the charitable things that Princess Di did and the publicity that she drew to them, but Mother Theresa lived a life away from the spotlight pouring her life out onto those who could never repay her. And for those of you who don't know Rich Mullins; he was a very successful American Christian Singer/Songwriter, who had all his earnings given to his church and had them dole out a working man's salary for him to live on, while the remainder was put into organizations who work among the poor and disadvantaged, including Kid Brothers of St Frank, which now comes under The Legacy of A Kid Brother of St Frank.

And even in the comments I have heard, the reflections on Princess Di with the exception of the relfections of her sons, are like those of starstruck fans. People who saw her, people who thought she was beautiful, people who thought she was treated badly by her husband, her mother-in-law, the press...but none of these people were loved and cared for by her, their lives were not enriched by having her as a friend or mentor... They just looked at her from afar...they saw her as one who lived that Princess Dream, but never got her 'happily ever after'. And I think we mourn for her because we all long for the 'happily ever after'. Looking to these other two lives of self-sacrifice and willing poverty makes us more uncomfortable, less able to indulge in our desire for wealth with a clear conscience...

Often I have heard the little ditty:
So heavenly minded, no earthly good...
But I've been thinking that the more heavenly-minded you are the more earthly good you can do...

While I hope that Diana's sons can move into adulthood as young men who have matured through their sufferings and continue to recall the love they received from her. I do not look to her as a model for life, but to others who are examples of "picking up their cross and following Him"; who would have never dreamed of saying, "Imitate me as I imitate Christ", although the statement applies to the life they lived.

More thanks...

2007-08-30T18:45:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Tom and Darren and late night games of India rails...this should include thanks to Jenn, who doesn't like board games, but doesn't mind sharing her husband with us.

Thanks to GCSchool and the folks at Grassroots who held back some of the best things from their closing out yard sale...since our shipment of household items is about one month late I don't know what we would have done without useful things for the house!!!

Thanks to Val and Margie, who love us just because...

Thanks to May...who popped by one day with ice cream, blueberries and a smoothie maker...

Thanks to the inventor of salsa and chips...I am indebted to them for the way that particular snack makes life seem so much better.

I think thinking of the thanks I could give is helping ease my perspective into a new slant.

We decided to spend money on the girls...so they get music lessons, the younger three get dance and R gets to join a choir. Happiness is abounding in their worlds! They may have to eat rice, potatoes and beans for the next few years, but at least they will get a chance to try their hands at the things they feel passionate about.

Oh yeah...and I am thankful to be at Burwood estates...we raise free range children here.

Thanks for noticing...

2007-08-28T18:39:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to say to the Andersons that I have really appreciated all their support and understanding...and trusting us with their cuties. I think I was a bit taken aback that D has been reading my blog and then asking me about the things I had written. As I thought about it I think it was a really friendly thing to do.

One of the things that has been hardest is the feeling that some significant people in our lives haven't noticed how stressful this transition is. But I want to say thanks to those who are noticing us...

Thanks to the Kuchtas, who took us to Duluth...and shared their free hotel room with us. If sharing one hotel room (11 bodies total) isn't a sign of love I don't know what is...

Thanks to the Harbrons, who have included us in their events like we have never been absent...

Thanks to the Martins, who welcomed us as we came home and check in on us...Still waiting for the book K...

Thanks to PD, who got what I was saying about mourning because she's walking through her own loss...

I was thinking that I don't want my blog posts to turn into a little black cloud...but I want to be able to chronicle this process and somehow it's easier here than anywhere else. And I suppose I want to know that my friends are walking through it with me, as much as that's possible.

And thanks to Mom, Dad and Johnathan, who put up with nearly vegan meals, lots of onions and garlic and after dinner collisions with bikes and blades...

People are the same...

2007-08-26T17:03:00.000-07:00

I came away from this morning with a profound sense of sadness. I think I had allowed myself to have expectations and I should know better. I always cope poorly well with disappointment.

It's funny how after awhile of being in the hills I got used to being on the outside. You know, you face the reality of the colour of your skin and know that you have to live with it. But I think I forgot that here the colour of your skin is less important than the image you cultivate through your speech, attire and activities. Maybe I am mistaken, because my skin colour matches the predominant colour, so perhaps today I just felt a different level of exclusion.

So while I was living on the hillside I consciously chose to embrace the cultural 'signs' (totems) that indicated to the dominant culture who I was and how I wanted to be treated. But coming 'home' I know I decided to make a choice I enjoy being me because I should have more freedom to do so. I am also reminded that I said to a few friends that maybe if I don't exactly match then when what I say doesn't match people will be more prepared. However, I was not prepared to be standing on the outside as clearly as I felt it today.

Overall, it felt like the sense of not belonging was confirmed...maybe we don't belong...maybe I need to find solace in that. Usually, I can embrace the future hope of looking forward to a place that I do belong...but today I feel tired.

I was just looking for a photo to add...it was a good reminder of the goodness of belonging to a family. I can say that I love the family that I have been given. And I am so pleased to have my husband to walk through all of this with.

I have had advice from dear friends that console me with the fact that sometime between 1 year and 3.5 I will begin to feel normal...Here's a quote from one friend HP says "...The day you feel normal is the day you do not miss your old life and you are content in the new one..."

I currently feel doubtful about feeling normal...but I do long for contentment to be oozing out of my pores and flooding my sensibilities.

Little thoughts...

2007-08-12T17:00:00.000-07:00

I just got a little encouragement from a friend...thanks!!!

I just wanted to say thanks to all you who are keeping up with reading my blog. I think that the last few were more for me than anyone...just processing my inner space.

As I have reflected on this transition I am feeling like I need to find a new space to fit and I am not sure where to find it. I was hoping to catch up with Jeff and Ali while they were in the US...thinking that they would have words of wisdom as we follow them in settling back after thinking that life in the hills made sense and we would all be there a long, long time. It's not working out and that just adds to the sense of disjoint...of course, there are telephones and emails...but a chat over a cuppa is so much fuller.

So I am missing life in India...there is so much comfort I would give up to be back there again...alas, maybe the door will open in the future. My current life lesson is about not wanting what God is not giving me...learning to want what He is giving me...even if I can't see it yet!! Ahh, for the satisfaction with life that comes with living contentedly!!!

Mourning

2007-08-11T20:27:00.000-07:00

I think I finally put my finger on the state of affairs in our household...we are in mourning...

We have all experienced a real loss and yet life goes on. So we all do our thing and 'get on with life' and then...SMASH...you are hit with a reminder of what is missing...a dear friend...a lovely home...a way of life... And a wave of grief crests over you and crashes in on your unsuspecting soul.

...the insignificance of being...realizing how dispensable you really are...wondering if you will ever reach that coveted place called 'home'...

Of course, there is love all around but that doesn't cover the sting of loss...

I know that the potency of the sorrow will diminish. And that there will be a time when happy memories will come without the hollow feeling that reminds me that something is missing...but for now we mourn...perhaps tomorrow will dawn with reminders of joy in the present and anticipation of blessings of the future...

Now I am off to lose myself in George Macdonald's The Highlander's Last Song... one of the books that I count as an old friend...

Full Plate and asking for more.

2007-08-03T12:23:00.000-07:00

So I am about to enter the realm of the working women...not that I haven't been working for the past 11 and a half years. It's just that no one has been paying me for the things I have been doing; and I think I enjoyed the autonomy of that kind of lifestyle.

Now we are settling into life in Canada and trying to create a sustainable lifestyle...not one dependant on changeable factors, but one settled on what resources we have and earn to ease up on the stress of the past seven years and add to the necessary stability for the coming ones. B needs to get working on his proposal...he needs a full bibliography together before he can write it and apply. And life in the foothills didn't have the luxury of time to read nor an accessible library chockablock full of religious texts complete with commentaries and such.

All of this and a mother-in-law with lots of contacts, has led me to a part-time job starting as soon as I want. The thought of committing to outside employment and homeschooling the progeny seems a bit daunting...but from as many angles as I can muster up...and I can muster many...it seems like a sensible thing to do. The family is all voting for it and the position seems to fit with much of my previous, albeit distant past, work experience. So I have prepared a proposal for the Manager/Owner and will bring it round her house tonight and see what she has to say.

I must say there is much I enjoy about being back here...but there is much I miss.

I miss the ease of relationships...the sense of calm when night falls...the adrenaline rush of spotting the alpha male monkey in your path...the pleasure of seeing students grow and make good choices...the enjoyment of a meal with seasonal delicacies ( I think that particular kind of fiddleheads that grow in Gharwal should be available now...5Rs a bundle.)...strolls out to Jubarkhat or down Mullinghar...staying late with friends and then sleeping over... I suppose it;s just moving to a rhythm that is more organic than the one that I have returned to.

Today I stood in the department store and felt a deep sense of sadness well up inside...I can't really explain it. It might have been the reality of living a new life...it might have been the pervasiveness of the consumer mindset...it might have been the sadness at again being in a place where it's very easy for prices to make beautiful things prohibitive...it might have just been mourning the loss of a life that I very much enjoyed.

Happy Colours, Good friends and a New Kitchen.

2007-08-01T07:17:00.000-07:00

Well, my kitchen is usable again...

We, and when I say we I mean mostly B, painted the kitchen. You might think, no big deal, but we painted the cabinets as well as the walls. And it was a big deal!!!

The kitchen we now have had cabinets that lived there for a very long time. They had suffered from lack of attention; but being wood veneer there seemed to be little options aside from replacement. So we attacked them this weekend with melamine paint and spruced them up with new hardware and I must say I am quite pleased with the overall effect. But I have learned that using oil based paint is a pain...and melamine paint is worse...it gets sticky...it slides down the wall...and it takes forever to dry.

However, one of the biggest advantages to being back in our hometown is re-entering a circle of friends and family. So we ate at my Mom-in-laws, my parents watched the girls, my Bro-in-law and B's friend all came round to help out...

And the end result is a kitchen that makes me feel happy when I walk into it. ..Yea!!

There is an added bonus that several friends have told me they love the colours; which is very affirming for me since I love colours but do not always successfully put them together. Of course, they might be just being nice but that's okay with me because I really love my new ktichen. And I am told that the colour combo is very current and lends a retro feel to the space, which works with the mustard coloured fridge and stove!!! Double Yea!!

Unfortunately, no pics today...maybe tomorrow since I am so proud of my new kitchen and pleased that my hubby let me pic happy colours!!!

Transients, Vagrants, Immigrants and Us

2007-07-30T20:15:00.000-07:00

So it's been a week since we arrive in Thunder Bay...my Dad sent me this

Marla - in regard to your blog - your friends around the world would like to hear that you have survived the Sasquatch of B.C. the Grizzlies of Alberta, the Potash mines of Saskatchewan and the rains of Manitoba and the moose of Ontario on your way back to this backward town; where they have a sleeping giant made of rock.
Love your Dad.

So I thought that I'd let all of you know that we made it and survived the hazards and insanity of three weeks on the road with our 4 girls. We made the trip more about time together and visiting friends than about sight seeing and 'educational' things. I think that was a good call so that when it was really hot and uncomfortable we just hung out without trying to squeeze activity into every moment.

Our time in South Korea was a balm to us. CH provided us with time to reconnect with students, who were very affirming of our work with them.

We also had the chance to indulge our taste buds in every sort of tasty way...R and M even worked up the courage to eat raw fish!!! We also had the chance to sit in hot tubs of assorted colours...brown, green, yellow(a bit disconcerting), pink and whitish. The spa we visited had a variety of hot tubs filled with various kinds of tea, as well as a grape one and a rice water one...unfortunately no photos...but we tried them all. And as a conclusion we visited CH's home town and attended Wednesday evening service with the congregation that his mother pastors. Again we were so blessed...we felt truly welcome among them. We left with an extra suitcase filled with beautiful as well as tasty gifts.

Landing back in Canada was so different...no one was there to meet us...the cheapest transport to the hotel in Vancouver was a limousine. And everything had the strange feel of familiarity although we hadn't been there for a long time.

As we crossed the country we stayed with friends along the way...it was a slow easing back into Canadian culture. I remember someone telling me that when you had to take the boat to India at least you got time on the way home to process some of what you had been through and prepare for what you were entering into. In the age of air travel, we still took the slow boat home.

Upon arriving we found that P likely had an ear infection...one problem our health coverage needs a few months to kick in... My dear mother-in-law got on the case and found a clinic that we could go to that didn't require payment nor a health insurance number...what kind of place is that, you might ask. Well, as we learned it is a service geared towards the sector of society that for whatever reason is transient; which includes those among us who are vagrant, homeless, new immigrants and apparently us! But happy for us, the clinic is staffed by competent medical professionals who wanted to serve us without needing lengthy explanations. And since we weren't looking for narcotics ( which several large signs declared they would not give out ) we left with a prescription in hand, which quickly alleviated P's sore ear...

Unfortunately two days later we were back, with M this time...and then the next day A had the same symptoms... By this point I didn't really feel like going for a third time in four days back to sit in a waiting room to hear the same diagnosis and receive the same prescription. However, since we are no longer in India I had limited choices...so I took out the antibiotics that we already had and tried to figure out how they could be split among three children. Fortunately for me the nurse practitioner gave me a ten day prescription for M...I had only a 5 day prescription for P...so I am just coming to the end of about 7 days for M, six for A and P finished her 5 days on the weekend.

The annoying thing is that there are no options...I must have a prescription to buy most medications. Whether or not I have a doctor who is able to see me...whether or not I should have a standing order...I need a new prescription for each round of medication. You might think that it is a sensible thing to distribute drugs with only express Doctor's orders. And generally, I would agree with you, but there are times when regulation just adds to the work and cost of getting what you are compelled by necessity to get.

I was think about this in regard to child/baby carseats...now I am not objecting to the use and efficacy of carseat...but the problem I see is legally requiring something that must be bought at nearly prohibitive prices. And then for those of us who have large families the cost is increased because your carseat will have an expiry date...5 or 10 years...which might seem like a long time to someone who has 2 children, but for 4 you end up having to re-buy. I was wondering at the fairness of requiring something and then allowing those things to be sold on the free market where they can be priced as high as the makers would like to price them because you have to buy them?!...

Well, that's my current beef with life in Canada. On the other hand, it has been a boon to us to have family around caring for us...I have been enjoying an abundance of tortilla chips and salsa...the girls love their new pink room...B has painted my kitchen apple green and yellow(I love it!!)...we planted some more flowers today...and tomorrow we plan to find the Farmer's Market to avail ourselves of seasonal fruits and berries.

Thanks to all who housed and fed us on our excursion...I have not forgotten you, I'll be in touch with a personal thanks when life settles a little more into a routine.

Lost in Translation...

2007-07-08T17:44:00.000-07:00

One of the challenging things of the last week and a half has been the lost feeling of not being able to communicate. Over the years in India we all learned Hindi and could communicate, at various levels. However, the biggest initial blessing was that upon returning to India in 2000 B found that he could still read the devnagari script.

Being able to read signs, prices, menus, addresses are all so helpful as you navigate a foreign country. Otherwise you truly find yourself at the mercy of the local people. We have had the good fortune that we have had only a few incidents that have been frustrating or disconcerting. But as we argued with a taxi driver in Hanoi...we knew that we knew that he was ripping us off...we found that we had no recourse...without being able launch an appeal in his language or elicit support of others there was little we could do. So we paid the fee and grumbled on our way.

Another evening B and I were out at the Green Tangerine for our anniversary dinner... 13 years... We missed the last number 9 bus and had no idea how to make our way back...other than hiring a taxi and that wasn't an option we wanted to consider given the potential cost (see above paragraph). We found the last number 9 bus as the conductor was disembarking. Unfortunately, he spoke no English and the extent of our Vietnamese was a noodle dish and cup of iced coffee. The funny thing was that he did what we had seen many English-speakers do...he spoke clear, slow, loud Vietnamese. He finally tore off a bus ticket and wrote down 2 and 32 and sent us off to another bus stop. So we got on the bus and tried to ask this conductor if we were headed in the right direction...apparently helpfulness is not a cross-the-board characteristic of bus conductors. But this time there was a wee Vietnamese woman who smiled and said, "You, follow me." And she got us off the number 2 and on the number 32 and then off that bus until we were in the neighbourhood we needed to be in.

Well, we are currently in Seoul, but between Hanoi and here we spent a few days with friends in Singapore. It was a lovely and relaxing time, in the end we just spent time with our friends and took the girls swimming. Oh yeah, and B enjoyed the ample amounts of available technology and now we have a camera and a laptop that works... our camera settings were switching in a haphazard manner and the backlight for the screen on our laptop was out...

The really nice thing in Singapore...other than the national dish of Chilli Crab(see pic)...was that we got to know the couple we stayed with. We had met A on several occasions in India and only just this week met S. The icing on the cake was that the little girls got on well with their little boys. It was such a relaxing and hospitable home...just reminded me that I am looking forward to having a home to welcome friends in...and I want to be able to build a home that is refreshing and welcoming.

It's late and my thoughts are getting increasingly random...so here are a few pics from our time in Singapore...

Vietnam...Hanoi and Halong Bay (edited)

2007-07-04T21:14:00.000-07:00

Well, we are just finishing up our week in Vietnam visiting with our dear friends Mark and Anne. It has been a hot week, but nonetheless an enjoyable time just kicking back and relaxing.

Mark booked an overnight for us on a boat. We left Halong Bay on Monday morning and visited a floating fishing village...explored some amazing caves...and swam in the China Sea.

This evening we are off to Singapore for a couple of days then on to South Korea; where Cheon Ha has a jam-packed itinerary for us, hopefully including tons of KimBap...wa-hoo!!!

Sorry for that folks...I was writing this in Vietnam where everything came up in Vietnamese and I couldn't remember which buttons to click on...

One of the oddest questions came from a Tour Guide, who asked me if P's hair was natural! She has rather blond hair that has a tendency to stand on end. I realized that he was asking a serious question, so I replied that it was her natural hair. To which he commented that in Vietnam that would be very expensive hair!!!!

I was amazed the number of people who counted us when we were out. Generally, we were counted by Vietnamese in Vietnamese...however one man counted us in English and didn't notice P on my back until I walked by and he began to laugh uproariously and loudly said,"Six People!" It'll be nice to be back in a country where the culture curbs that kind of attention.

Overall we found Vietnam pleasant. Mostly the company of our dear friends was balm to our tired souls. B and I enjoyed many a cup of Vietnamese coffee...you'd be hard pressed to find a better cup of potent coffee. Apparently, after Brazil Vietnam is the second largest coffee exporter!!!

Off to Singapore...

Life in Boxes

2007-06-24T19:41:00.000-07:00

Just thought that I'd take a few minutes to update you all on life here on the hillside. I talked with my parents last night and my Dad asked if I had given up on my blog...just to let you know I haven't, but life has been rather consuming lately.

We did a quick run to Mumbai last weekend for a wedding of friends...it was a whirlwind, but we were happy to be a part of the celebration. R spent the last ten days with a friend traveling in HP...I am positive that she came back two inches taller than when she left. M and A spent four days with friends and P came with us. P was in heaven for the four days that we were away...For number Four to have two parents all to herself seemed to have been as glorious as she could have imagined.

I am still feeling torn about how I feel about the move. Partly because there is so much about life here that I love...granted there are irritating things about being here that I will be glad to put behind me, but overall life has been rewarding and I would move back in a heartbeat.

One of the irritating things has been the ongoing devaluation of my role within the community... It has been a good check for me to remember that my affirmation needs to not come from without but from within. Shall I explain? ...well, at the Farewell banquet I was reminded that since I do not have a 'position' and draw a 'salary' I am not technically part of the institution; therefore I do not get a thank-you gift or a formal good-bye like each of the other staff members. In fact, six-month volunteers receive more recognition... Upon reflection I had to remind myself that I do not work for the insitution, I work for the Creator and I have needed to and continue to need to be faithful to that things I feel like he has been asking me to do. In the end, I am increasingly convinced that life is about relationship and the quality of life can be measured in the quality of relationship that I have with my Creator and the people that He has brought into my life.

However, it's that investment in relationship that makes leaving a grieving process for me. I am aware that there are many I may never see again...some, I expect to meet at the wedding feast of the Lamb...others, I can not be sure of. Some, I know that I can continue to write to and be in touch with; others, I don't even know how to send them a letter and then they won't be able to read it anyway.

...there are already people here sorting through our 'left-overs'...It's still one hour before our 'Sale' is scheduled to begin...I am planning to run away with the children and let others man the house while our things are rifled through and haggled over.

I may not post again for a month...then I should have some fun pics chronicling our travels. Bless you all!

Coram Deo

2007-06-06T23:20:00.000-07:00

As far as I can learn Coram Deo means "In the face of God". B is using this for his sermon for the Baccalaureate Service. As he reviewed his sermon this phrase caught my imagination...and it has been bouncing around in my head for hours.

Can you imagine what our lives would look like if we lived with the knowledge that we are living in the face of God? ...every moment, every thought, every action is within his line of sight... For me that thought has a most sobering effect. I have been trying to adjust the attitudes of my heart so that my actions, my words and my thoughts are all those I would not be ashamed of should they be exposed to the rest of the world. Even as I type this I have the sense that this is a dangerous confession. I have now opened myself up to further scrutiny...but the truth is that I have seen increasingly that my life is on display here. And if it is on display then I have to take responsibility for the message that it communicates.

I am reminded of the words of Francis of Assisi:
"Preach the Gospel always, and when necessary use words"

It's been interesting living in a community like this. There is very little that stays in the sphere of a private life. I think I have shared before how quickly information gets passed through the school and even the market place. I remember a woman, who wanted to work for us, coming to our house. It was amazing how much she knew about me...our family life...our food preferences. We live our life within a fishbowl of sorts.

Even today I think about how my character is on display with every interaction. I was listening to a sermon by Rob Bell. He was talking about the fact that every moment of our lives we are speaking something to the world around us about what we believe... The opportunity to speak about faith with words may not come, but the opportunity to speak with a life is available with every moment that we still have breath.

It's not that we should pursue a spiritualized lifestyle that involves vocabulary that is unfamiliar to the world around us...or that we live by limits so that we do not go to places where people are...or that by irrelevance we alienate those around us. But that we live with the reality of the life of the Spirit at the forefront of our minds. A friend of ours, Dr. Rajoo, often reminds us that we should be 'winsome'; and we should be attractive as opposed to be repulsive.

I wonder how limited we are when we rely on words to communicate. And yet as a society we have become increasingly dependant on words...telephones, mobiles, blogs, emails, sms... More often than not our conversations, at least in part, do not happen face-to-face. We are left to imagine or guess the expression of the other. And they are left to guess about ours.

I suppose all of this connects in my brain with the thought that the only way to build relationship is to be living alongside each other. And that the ony way to communicate the love of God to the world around us is to be living in the world loving as we go.

That quote by Francis of Assisi challenges me to be mindful of the things I communicate without words. To live Coram Deo challenges me to be mindful of the things I let my mind dwell on without awareness. And together I am working on learning to sincerely love. Living here and learning to communicate over and through the language and cultural barriers has pushed me outside of myself in ways I could not have imagined. And as I go back to a country with a language that I can converse easily in, I want to maintain the awareness of commincating without words and living 'in the face of God'.

I feel happy...and hopeful

2007-05-29T20:50:00.000-07:00

This morning I woke up feeling happy...even now the mood holds. I am listening to a combination of old Motown and RnB...still wearing my flannel pjs. P has given up the battle and has gone back to bed. M is reading. R, A and B are all at school. The lights are dim and I have no pressing demands.

I was thinking yesterday about relationship. I think that naturally we do not seek out deep and intimate relationship with other human beings, but we long for them. But I think that we are made to be in deep and intimate relationship...these are the kind of relationships that are ultimately satisfying and uncompromisingly safe.

Everything in culture mitigates against meaningful relationship...busy lives, social taboos, fear of vulnerability... I think you might be able to say that these things are cultural universals that keep us from each other. What each culture looks like and expects might be vastly different; however we are programmed to hide our weakness and pain. We all suffer at some time with a deep fear of being exposed and we have a few options to confront that fear. Some of us might ignore it...some of us might construct a life to keep ourselves safe and others of us rush into it battling the fear. I think we are called to overcome fear...even the fears that no one else could possibly see.

I think that I lived enslaved of fear for a long time. I was meticulous about keeping the facade of 'everything is alright' without thinking that freedom was possible. As I have been reading Henri Nouwen's (http://www.henrinouwen.org/) The Way of the Heart, I have been challenged to not run from the things stored in the dark corners of my heart, but to let the Light expose them. He clearly differentiates the pursuit of privacy from the pursuit of solitude. Where privacy is the place of nurturing the self...a therapeutic place we go to garner strength to face the challenges of life; solitude is the furnace of transformation where we go to face our false self...a place of seeing ourselves stripped and needy where we can met God in our naked shame.

In this book Nouwen refers to the teachings of the Desert Fathers; not that he is advocating a life of cloistering or asceticism, but that we can learn the principles of confronting our false selves and engage the world around us as more accurate representatives of Christ. What has challenged me has been the passion with which they pursued knowledge of their false selves so that they could then die to themselves and be reborn yielded fully to the call of God.

Nouwen writes: The task is to persevere in my solitude, to stay in my cell until all my seductive visitors ( mental, spiritual and other distractions) get tired of pounding on my door and leave me alone. The "Isenheim Altar" painted by Grunewald(see right) shows with frightening realism the ugly faces of the many demons who tempted Anthony ( an early Desert Father)in his solitude. The struggle is real because the danger is real. It is the danger of living the whole of our life as one long defense against the reality of our condition, one restless effort to convince ourselves of our virtuousness. Yet, Jesus "did not come to call the virtuous, but sinners" ( Matthew 9:13).

As strange as this might seem it gives me hope...hope that I can enter into that place where I see myself as I am...my fears, weaknesses and sins exposed...so that I can then fully experience that feeling of being made clean and set free. The thing is that I currently believe that I stand forgiven and accepted by my Maker. But I know that I do not walk in that place of full surrender, and that is my goal...to be yielded to the one who made me, knows me and loves me best.

So how do this tie into the ideas of relationship? The thing is that if we could live like we believe, truly believe that we are accepted. Then we will be less bound by the approval, affirmation or judgement of those around us. If we are less bound by 'what others think' then we are more free to be who we are. The more free we are in who we are, the more we encourage others to enter into that same freedom and the more intimate relationships we can be part of. Where fear and hidden lives teach others to live with fear and with a hidden life; a life of freedom tangibly demonstrates to others that fear doesn't have to rule and in nakedness is a freedom that can be sought.

Not that I have achieved this, but when I think about my future this is what I long for. To be able to walk in freedom because I have nothing to hide and nothing to fear.

Exploring the Possibilites

2007-05-25T04:43:00.000-07:00

As B and I imagine the coming year, we are trying to keep mindful of the fact that Jesus said that he came so that his 'sheep' could have life and have it abundantly. Since the largest part of our identity is found in being a follower of Jesus then we should live an abundant life. In the recent past at times our lives have felt overwhelming...full of duty rather than passion...so we are trying to find what we have been missing and bring it out again.

In this process, the high school art teacher left. Since B has a lighter teaching load, he offered to take one class. Honestly, the grade 10s had a good giggle at the thought of their Religious Studies teacher being able to show them anything in the realm of fine arts. Now, those of you who have known B for a long time, you know that he has some talent. So as the faithful wife I thought I'd brag on his behalf...

This is a sketch that B drew from a photo that he took years ago when we drove through Ladakh. This man is a Tibetan yak herding Nomad. We came across a small group of yak herders while we drove up to Leh. They stopped us on the way and we had a little visit.

In case you thought I had any hidden talents of this sort...sorry to disappoint...

I think I talk too much...so how can I be a learner?

2007-05-23T03:19:00.000-07:00

I just had a lovely visit with some dear women, who live here on the hillside. But, I fear that I began to take over. I realize that having a blog has helped me to put down on some of my thoughts so that I don't feel compelled to have to talk to someone who may or may not be interested. ...now I am grateful that these women care about me and I think were interested, but as I sit sipping my tea in my quiet house I think I had too many opinions on too many things.

The answer I suppose it to be more deliberate about posting so that I get my thoughts down... process them a bit and get a bit of feedback...

I guess that leads to my thoughts about our conversation...Assuming the Position of the Learner... Essentially, much of what we discussed comes back to: living right and becoming a learner to be able to impact the culture around us.

As a little side bar...I don't remember who introduced me to a London Fog... It's Earl Grey Tea with steamed milk and vanilla syrup. I had it the first time at the Starbucks in Thunder Bay...it has become a comfort drink for me. With my current dietary restrictions I have it with sweet soy milk and a teaspoon full of vanilla extract. It currently serves as a comfort drink for me.

Away from my taste buds and back to my thoughts...

If I had to articulate my most recent concerns...it would be this: I see good people coming here with vision and a sense of call. I hear them speak out their concerns and thoughts...most true things. But I also see that they are not being heard. So I sat and thought why is this so???

Maybe this is happening because they are not arriving with the first thought as: 'What can I learn?', but 'What can I give?'. My thoughts have moved in this fashion. If we are building a relationship we begin by getting to know someone. To get to know them better we might increase the amount of time together or we might increase the level of intimacy in our conversation. But we generally move forward by increments...and with some people the increments might be baby steps...and with others the increments might be strides. But we all expect that to achieve a relationship where we can know someone well enough to speak negative things as well as positive things it will take time.

I think when we, as people, join together to become part of an institution then we need to use that same philosophy. Enter as if you are entering a relationship (because you are)...take the time to understand the people who are part of the institution and the institution's history. And then as we unravel the history, relationships and values; we will have understanding of the current relational dynamics of the people with each other and with the institution.

Now, in relation to cross-cultural living the essence of the sentiment is the same, particularly when that culture has grown in isolation from your own. The cultural assumptions that we grow up with are not global norms...

For example, most from the US and Canada are familiar with the book/poster "Everything I needed to know I learned in Kindergarten", and it resonates as true with most from Western countries; but some of those so called 'common sense' statements are not as universal as we have grown to expect. A little thing like, 'look both ways before crossing the street', may be so ingrained in us, that we are shocked when we come across someone who doesn't live by that truth. Or on a more serious level, we may be accustomed to teaching our children to 'find a policeman if you are lost'; whereas in some countries that would be an unthinkable directive to teach a child.

I remember a little news article after the London Train Bombings in the summer of 2005. A Brazilian immigrant was shot dead by a police officer for behaving suspiciously and not responding to the call to stop. So many of the editorial comments berated the man for not obeying a police officer...if he wasn't guilty why did he run... But he had some trouble with his immigration paper work and likely he grew up in a culture that feared the power and corruption of the police force. His response was dictated by having grown up with a alternative set of rules to live by, another set of norms, a different 'common sense'. And his response made sense according to the information he had available when he made his decision to run...unfortunately, that lack of cultural understanding communicated an admission of guilt to the culture he was now in and the police officer responded to that assumed admission.

We aught to take seriously that old Chinese proverb: Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. I know that it is very cliched however the truth is that unless you understand the way a person looks at the world and can communicate in a way that meets them there; you will never have any influence for change.

I suppose at some level this is addressed to myself...to not assume that I know what my hometown is like today, to not assume that I know how my friends and family have grown, to not assume that I have changed more than the place and people that I am returning to. In the end, we are all working it out...that it is life, relationships, significance...maybe the best solution is to try as much as possible to shed assumptions and expectations and try to learn as much as we can about any given situation, person or institution before advocating for change. Sustainable change happens progressively...sudden change is rarely sustainable.

Well...that's the thoughts scrambling in my mind for attention...

P.S. I have never told my children to find a police officer if they are lost!

Oop...I did it again...

2007-05-21T01:31:00.001-07:00

So last night was the Final Chapel of the school year...otherwise known as the Good-bye Chapel. B asked me to share...first I said no...then I said I'd think about it...then I agreed to it.

It was so nice that as B and I talked about what we were thinking of sharing it seemed to fit together nicely...in the end we shared a bit of our stories and how we met Jesus with the undercurrent of being poured out...living a life that is wasted on God.

The thing is as I prepared...I felt fine...no emotional outpourings...Then as soon as I started to speak I teared up and began with a cry... Standing in front of nearly 400 students and all the staff I cried...let me tell you I did not expect that.

The finality of the move back to Canada has struck me and I am sad. Until now I have been trying to continue on with the "regularly scheduled program". I have not really pulled back or out of comittments. In my mind, I think I was expecting to continue on as usual and then leave. The interesting thing is that B has been doing the exact opposite...he has been pulling out of commitments...turning things over...

Again, we were awake in the night listening to Johnny Cash and sipping tea. B always reviews his words the night after sharing. On the other hand, once my words are out I have a very difficult time recalling what I spoke. I have to trust the feedback I get because I am so unsure about what I said or how I said it...I mean I could give you the general thoughts...God meets us in the midst of our 'stuff', you can trust him to do what he says he will do and 'wasting' your life on him is the best thing you could do with your life.

Thanks to a dear young woman, who works with us, we had hours to pack this weekend without little people. Most of what we are bringing...minus any breakables...are in boxes...17 of them, all nearly full... with a third to a half of each box containing books...we are bringing a mini-library with us. And we have so many clothes to give away...there will be children all over the hillside looking like my girls...One of the nice things about being here is that things are less confined over what is appropriate for little girls or little boys. Now, once those say children reach a certain age, things are more strictly defined, but there seems to be an ambiguous time where anything goes.

...here is one of our favourite paintings. It's by an artist named Frank Wesley. And it is based on the story in Luke 7, at the end of the chapter. We showed it to the students yesterday as we shared about being that woman, who pours out the most precious thing she has on the feet of Jesus. Interestingly, the feet of Jesus have a blue hue, which is a common symbol used to represent divinity in South Asian artwork.

Worn out but happy

2007-05-15T01:01:00.000-07:00

The days seem long yet not so productive. I think I am working out what the next year will look like. B keeps asking me what I want to do when we are back in Canada...and the trouble is that I am not sure.

As the years piled on each other I have grown more committed to this place and the lifestyle that goes along with it. I have changed the way I dress, I have changed the way I cook and I have changed the way I socialize. In accommodating life here, the way I look at the world around me has changed.

I am looking forward to going out along. To be able to hop in a vehicle and shop for groceries or just have a cup of coffee all by myself will feel weird at first, but so freeing. The amount of personal freedom in a woman's life in a Western country is almost intoxicating. And yet part of the reason for that freedom is the fact that there is little communal sense of accountability. When I go out I am conscious that I how I dress and behave communicates something about my personal values, about my husband, and about the institution that we are associated with.

The thing is that in North America we have a tendency to remove things from their context and they no longer communicate the story that they are part of. On the other hand, in Asia things, including people are rarely removed from their context...certain foods will always be unclean and those who eat them will be, certain clothes are proper and those who wear them will be, certain activities are unacceptable and those who do them will be.

I was recently listening to a lecture on consumerism. I am now aware that the removing of items, clothes, food, music, rituals, or ideas, from their original context facilitates the consumer culture. And yet, as long as things are tightly bound to context there is little freedom for growth and development.

There are things I want to carry with me...places I have grown in my mind and character. And there are lessons I have learned...particularly about not running ahead with my own ideas, but being patient to see how the hand of God is working just ahead of what I can see. I wonder how this will affect how I settle back into life in Canada. I wonder how cohesively I can meld here and there as we forge a life there, being changed by here.

Nostalgia and other thoughts

2007-05-08T21:31:00.000-07:00

Memories are funny things; how they come and go at the whim of some force seemingly beyond the self.

Last night Bri was down in the valley getting some work done on the car. The girls and I took a late evening walk then I read them a chapter out of a new book; we started reading the Canadian Girl Series and they are really enjoying it. And I sat and wondered what I would do with the evening...

I found "You've Got Mail" on television and decided to watch that although I know I have seen before, probably more than once before. I made popcorn, a big cup of Earl Grey Tea and settled in. The popcorn reminds me of staying with my mom and sharing a late night bag of popcorn when we both know we should be in bed.

Earl Grey tea reminds me of the mom of a friend of mine...A's mom died a few years back and yet I have an enduring memory of her. I had popped in for a visit one day...I don't even think that A was living at home at the time. She asked me to stay for tea and so I stayed. We drank Earl Grey...with twice the number of bags for extra flavour. We visited and chatted and sipped tea. Another friend of mine says tea needs ceremony. I think that day I enjoyed the ceremony of tea in a way that I hadn't known. You see, I think that I finally met the woman who had always been A's mom...she was well-read, with a breadth of knowledge wider than most...she had roots on the East Coast and interests in village development in the third world ...I think that she felt her daughters were destined for the extraordinary...the extraordinary that she longed to partake of. Even now, I am sad that I can't share a cup of tea with her. I am sure she would have loved to hear stories of India and look through all my pictures. And I know when I sit with A, we will pick up where we left off even with the passage of years between us. A got married. I couldn't go. But I am looking forward to seeing her in the coming year and bringing a bit of India to share with her.

Unbidden memories flood in... I don't know how to hold them all, but I think telling my stories helps.

Bowling, Bangles, and sore Bottoms.

2007-05-08T02:28:00.000-07:00

I started a post earlier today and the electricity cut out long enough for me to lose it...ah, well...

I thought I'd share the last few days, but I am thinking on new things right now. We'll just have to see where this stream takes me...and us as a consequence.

My big accomplishment this weekend was that I learned how to bowl. I have never played Cricket and found myself in the midst of a game for the ladies this weekend. The ball was tossed my way and I had to learn how to bowl. So in my best mimic I tried and was... not necessarily successful, but able to bowl adequately. Thinking back now, I notice that I have tended to stay away from sports that involve bats or racquets. I did play badminton for a short time in High School, but was terribly unsuccessful and henceforth stayed with the sports I could perform reasonably at. Needless to say I wasn't too disappointed to have the game called short...I missed my chance at bat...and then we all sat for a late lunch.

Yesterday we went for a quick wander in the Bazaar...I needed a second shot of penicillin to make sure the infection I had was truly gone. For those of you who have not had the misfortune of needing penicillin injections, count yourselves lucky. The hurt going in...the whole time you are getting the shot you can feel the ache...and they have to give it slowly which only prolongs the agony...and it is administered in the bottom. And today I have an achy bottom; of course the pain is tempered by the knowledge that my immune system is adequately bolstered against any further attacks.

But to ease pain we browsed in a few shops. The girls had cold coffee and muffins. And M was desperately trying to secretly buy me a Mother's Day gift. I took the hint and strolled up and down until she could buy the desired item and stow it. In my meandering I found a fantastic bangle...I searched until I found a matching one and walked along with great delight at my new found treasure. The best things about these bangles are: they are fat, made with Mother of Pearl and fasten a bit like shackles. I am sad to not be able to show you however our camera is still refusing to cooperate. And M was not disappointed so I am guessing that she did not buy me new bangles.

And last but not least, I found a fun blog The Seven Things Project In an attempt to simplify, Earthchick has given herself a year to get rid of seven things each week. I was so encouraged to read about someone else's journey through the bits and pieces that hang around a life. I realized in this process sorting stuff for the move that I form memories attached to certain things. It might be a dress that each girls wore and when I look at it I have a memory snap shot of each one. Or a single sock that hasn't had it's pair in years, but I remember who gave it to which girl. Or a scrap of paper with a hand print on it...or any number of things that have long since ceased to be useful. I think I have been afraid to lose these things that trigger pictures in my mind. At the same time, I am working out how to store those memories without needing to keep the stuff. I do want to simplify not for the sake of having less, but for the purpose of having a life more full of relationship and hearts full of gratitude.

On second thought...

2007-05-03T03:04:00.000-07:00

I was in the process of writing a post about the recent arrest warrant out for Richard Gere for kissing an Indian actress on the cheek...it was a bit of a gripe about the unfairness of charging a Western man for kissing someone on the cheek when Indian men all over the country take liberties with Western women; but today has brought a different mood upon me...

I have been feeling under the weather for a couple of weeks; even now I am on antibiotics that make everything taste like metal, I have a headache from sleeping badly on my neck, and I am tired since B and I stayed up talking until about 2 in the morning (typical when we are in transition)...

However, I dragged myself out of bed this morning and decided to get on with the day. The girls needed to get out and I probably did too. So we wandered over to the usual spot for Thursday mornings...met a dear friend on the way...sat, chatted, snuggled a baby, drank some tea... and then I was surprised.

I have to back up a few weeks to explain everything before I tell you what the surprise was. Well, actually, I'll just back up a few days and then you'll be able to understand.

On Monday, B and I stopped in at a Tailor's shop to check on something I had ordered. I hadn't confirmed the order, but I was hopeful. I was tersely told that the item I was after was picked up weeks ago by someone from the School. I was so bugged by this turn of events...I couldn't imagine anyone buying the jacket that was made for me. Brian assured me he must have sold the piece of fabric to someone else; which was a more likely turn of events than someone else paying for a jacket that had been made for me. At that point, I totally let go of the lovely fabric I had picked out... I knew it was an end piece that I was unlikely to find anything quite like it. So rather than be disappointed I comforted myself with the thought that I could always have a black jacket made by someone else. A black jacket would be more practical anyway!

Imagine my total shock as I was presented with this very same jacket at my friend's house today. Two of them had been planning since the day after I found the fabric to get it for me...my procrastination was likely a very helpful element in making this such a complete surprise. I was astounded...the jacket is as lovely as I imagined it would be...and now it is more precious because it now is a reminder of the amazing women who thought of me and loved me.

All this to say that I am happy to have a green jacket...I didn't really want to be practical. And more than that, I am reminded again today to notice all the ways I have been and continue to be blessed...

P.S. I am trying to be mindful of the blessings as P is currently sitting on her bed shouting NO!

You know you live in a small community when...

2007-04-30T20:38:00.000-07:00

I can recall several instances when I was stunned to realize how much people know about what happens in our house and family. Like when one woman was coming to work in my house and she said I know what you like to eat...and she was right. Or when we were returning from a weekend away...we had made a last minute decision to go...and as we drove through the Bazaar the shop keepers asked how our time away was!?!

Again today I had another experience like this. Yesterday afternoon, B had taken me into the Bazaar to see a doctor...nothing serious. Usually I walk out to a friend's house on Tuesday mornings for a ladies meeting, but this morning I decided to stay home. I had no sooner made the decision when I got a call from another friend asking if we were meeting at my house since I was feeling sick...? I have no idea how she found out.

While it can be disconcerting to have your life on display...there is also a warm feeling of belonging that I appreciate. When you know that your life is being lived before the community I think it helps you to live deliberately and consciously.

Then and Now

2007-04-26T23:33:00.000-07:00

So...my dear friend invited me to join Facebook...so I did. I didn't really know anything about it and I must admit to finding it curiously addictive. One thing that I did not expect was finding high school classmates on it. Actually, I didn't really think about classmates finding me. The friend from Junior High, who found me, was such a surprise...I had been trying to reconnect with her without success for a while. Then there was a guy, whose name I did not recognize...weird...upon seeing his photo I placed him, but had seriously not seen or heard of him in over 15 years.

But that has led me to introspection about who I was then and who I am now. I know that I am more me now then I was then, but I wonder what I would think upon meeting myself then... I think I am self aware enough to say I was more abrasive then, more sarcastic and more aggressive... but I was also less confident of my own identity and I know that I hid from myself as much as I hid from those around me.

I can say that I am honestly thankful that some of my edges have been worn away. There are things I like about myself much more now...like the fact that I am less defensive and need less approval from the world around me. But it all makes me think that if I were to meet up with people who knew me then, would they recognize me, would the teenage me inhibit relationship with the 30-something me, would I find that despite what I have gained from the years since high school I have also lost part of me.

I suppose part of my thoughts are spurred on by the knowledge of returning to Thunder Bay and wondering what it will be like. There is a part of me that finds comfort in knowing that I am known, particularly by the ALL-KNOWING ONE. But also part of me that is sad to have many of my friendships split in segments of my life. In some ways I think it make me a bit of a fractured person...there is so much comfort in not having to explain myself...

At the same time I am so thankful to have a partner to journey with...since the end is not in sight. I wonder what my 40-something self will think of my 30-something self...

P.S. Thanks to Doug for his thoughts on being Canadian...I think he is accurate in defining a Canada as a country of observers...and a people who are satisfied in learning but not always doing. In fact that defines a lot about me...learning but not doing...

To be Canadian...

2007-04-24T20:19:00.000-07:00

Just been thinking about what it is to be Canadian. After living in Asia, as well as, England, and the US, I know that there is something distinctive about being Canadian. I had to learn how life is done in different places and the challenges weren't just over language barriers, food or dress.

I realized that living here I will always be and outsider. One of the best compliments I ever received was from a neighbour, who described me to her mother as being more Indian than American. I didn't bother trying to correct her to say that I wasn't American anyway.

The thing is, and I am not trying to be offensive, the thing is I am the wrong colour to belong here. I know this because I have met Caucasians who have lived here, even been born here and they are often asked where they come from. And if they say they are Indian, the questioning continues, ...but what is your father? ...he is Indian ...but... There is no peace for the questioner. Even more difficult is when you know the language and you can hear people talking about you...usually it is not flattering.

So I was thinking that my girls need somewhere to belong...can they belong to Canada? One of the things we have grown to appreciate more and more about Canada is the diversity that calls itself Canadian...no ethnicity, no religion, no political view can define what it is to be Canadian. As a whole we tend more towards the left politically, we take pride in our National Health Programs. As a whole we like to identify ourselves as a Cultural Mosaic, we pride ourselves on our country of origin as well as our country of residence.

Living in the US...I was shocked to learn that no one knew what a perogy was...a yummy dish that finds it's roots in Eastern Europe, but is so part of Canadian cuisine that you can buy them by the bag in the frozen section of the grocery store. In fact perogies bear some similarities to a Tibetan dish called momos...and sauerkraut has an Asian incarnation in Kim chi...spaghetti is an European take on Oriental noodles or chow mein. What is Canadian food? ...bannock ...moose ...poutine ...whale blubber ...maybe the answer is yes, but all of this is just the beginning. Bannock and Moose come from our heritage in the First Nations People, while Poutine and meat pies come from our French heritage; whale blubber with smoked fish and dried meat find their roots in our Inuit heritage.

Now I am not a member of a First Nations People...I have no French blood in me...I or any of my ancestors have not lived in the land of the Midnight Sun. But by being Canadian I would include all of these traditions as influences that have formed me.I wonder if we as Canadians, who like to identify ourselves as Peace Keepers, should seriously embrace the fact that we are a Nations of Immigrants. In doing this we could model for the world a society that understands that we are as different as we are alike, but we are bound together by sharing living space. And in that sharing of space we are blessed by learning about each other, our picture of what it is to be human will be widened. In our humanity, we will defend each other's right embrace different worldviews with the expectation of dialogue and compassion. To be Canadian might just be the ability to love and respect someone who we don't and can't agree with.

Looking at Canada from the outside I see it as full of resources both in it's land and people; and yet I see complacency that keeps us from being a global force for good.

I'd love to hear what it means to you to be Canadian...whether or not you are a Canadian...whether or not you are in or out of Canada.

A big hole in the front yard...

2007-04-23T02:05:00.000-07:00

So we returned home yesterday to two men digging in our front yard. They broke through the concrete slab and were digging and digging. Brian went to find out what they were up to. Apparently, they need to dig 12 feet down so the soil can be tested. Our duplex is going to be turned into a temporary boy's dormitory at some point in the next two years, but to accommodate everyone they will need to build a second story. Since our town is in a earthquake fault zone they need to figure out if the foundation will support another story. Meanwhile we have to keep all the small children away from the big hole...there is nothing like a hole in the middle of the yard to attract curious bodies. Excitement never ends.

We had a usually busy weekend with a lovely visit with a colleague's parents and friends from Delhi. But my big news is that my recent blood tests came back with my total cholesterol at 146.3....wa-hoo!!! Over the last year my cholesterol has never, ever been this low. When I was on meds for two months it went down to 150, but now with lifestyle changes and no drugs it's in the healthy range. It is so exciting to have all the effort finally pay off.

Sweet Thing with clouded thoughts.

2007-04-19T02:40:00.000-07:00

A lives life at an intensity that the rest of us...and most of the world doesn't. Nothing with A is half way. So in the night when she was not feeling well I should have clued in earlier than I did.

She was feeling low with a barking cough, so we just tucked her in, prayed for her and gave her big hugs and kisses. Sometime after midnight the bed hopping began. Around 4, I took her back to her bed when I asked her what was bothering her she said the most fantastic thing...I asked her again to be sure...

My wings are hurting my back.

Lights flashing in my head...fever too high quick find the Brufen. I am still not sure what she meant, but she was so sincere that her wings were hurting her back so I didn't argue. After one dose and a little back rub, A was settled. I said good night and she told me we could finish the game in the morning(another random thought). However, her fever was dropping and she nodded off.

You can never really know what is going on in another's mind. You can listen to their words, watch their faces and body language, but you are just using "sagacious foresight"...a bit of intuition leading an educated guess to a tentative conclusion.

This is one of the things that makes relationships so tenuous. You can never have absolute certainty about what is moving through the other's mind. As your relationship grows you learn more about your partner and the thoughts that are likely to occupy their space...but you are just making an more educated guess with the possibility of a less tentative conclusion.

It's amazing in these days of suspicion and skepticism that people continue to make vows that include the words...until death do we part... Think about the weight of that commitment ...nothing should separate you from that person except the actual death of one of you...not the death of your love or the death of your happiness... In the glow of love and desire those words should be a sobering reminder of what you are walking into.

I have heard so many explanations about why marriage is out of fashion...women have more independence and money, less people want the burden of children, people are finding out who they are, the world is over populated, we are already committed what differnce is a piece of paper...some reasons are more plausible than others, but I think they are all excuses. The real reason is how can I know that this one person is the one, how can I trust myself to another person, how can I give up my own life for them.

We live with an immense amount of insecurity. We are unsure of ourselves and our purpose. How can we be sure of another person's committment?

The point is we can't. We can't change anyone, not even a spouse. We can't know every thought entertained in the mind of our partner. We can't be sure how we will grow and change over time, nevermind what might happen in and to the other.

In business relationships we commit to working out glitches, market slow-downs, and personnel problems; likewise in romantic relationships we have to commit to working it out because you just can't predict what will come about from within and without.

It's just a leap of faith...marriage is a step off into the unknown holding hands with another person, who is different than you.

Welcome to my stream of thought...by the way the reason that the wedding photo is so beat up is that B carries it around in his wallet. It was the only wedding photo we brought with us. Coming to our 13th anniversary I am thankful for my husband and the fact that he is different than I am. I think that we both would agree that we have refined each other over the years. So for anyone contemplating that leap , know that it is a lot of hard work, but generally very worth the trouble.

Quotes from my Husband

2007-04-17T20:07:00.000-07:00

So, I was reading over B's shoulder as he typed an email or two last night...I was reading with permission. I usually avoid reading over his shoulder because he finds it annoying which I totally understand.

So, I was reading as he slipped into the language of academia...fantastic... I thought I'd share a few quotes and hope that you are as entertained as I was.

Or is that, again, our Aristotelian minds looking for taxonomies to file things under?

I know it was all the rage earlier last century but that was, as I understand it, more of a death-throes-of-modernity Hegelian/Whitehead version. Some of the Orthodox theologians have returned with a vengeance proposing their Cappadocian Patristic versions of it, giving their concepts ridiculous titles.

His version of the Shakyamuni somehow embodies the whole Mahayana process of transferring Buddhist soteriological focus off of the Dharma and onto the person of the Buddha.

I love reading his academic language because it presents such a challenge to my brain to distill the essence of what he is saying into 'real world' English.

So, that leads me to the thought that I am not really suited to that kind of academic world. It might be that I am not suited to that sort of academic realm. B, on the other hand, loves that world...he loves the studying, research and dialogue that comes with that territory. Now, he has just begun corresponding with people looking for a Doctorate program, so he dusted off his old vocabulary and is putting it to use. I remember reading some of his essays while he was working on his Masters. It really did get to the point that I could read it through and still not really know what was being said... All that said if anyone knows of a University with a reputable Religious Studies Graduate Program, do let us know. That will be our next port of call after our year or so in TBay.

P.S. These are photos from B's grad last March...it's a rented robe so we don't have it anymore. However, he does have his student robes...did you know that he had to write his exams sub fusc, wearing a suit and robe (sub fusc is the term for wearing your suit and robe)?

..our camera died, M turned 9 and I saw a Cardiologist!

2007-04-17T01:03:00.000-07:00

...so as you can see by the title is has been a full weekend. What an awful time for our camera to break down...and then for fun it started working for a couple of hours and then stopped...again...

M had her 9th birthday on Friday the 13th...no bad luck in our house...just lots of snacks, small people, giggles and very little sleep. Thursday night we ended up setting up two tents in our front room and had the bigger girls in one and the slightly littler girls in the other. The big girls are all such sensible girls...they chatted...read by flashlight(torch, for those of you not in NA)...and then went to sleep. The other tent...yikes...once we got settled in ...got over being homesick ...finished the giggles ...stories ...goodnight kisses ...one moment of tears ...and finally sleep came. Until about 3:00 in the morning, suddenly there were giggles and small figures dashing through the living room, where B and I sleep; only by that point it was P and I, B had left to find a quieter spot. By 3:30 the dull roar needed to be checked; I was informed that it was midnight snack time. Finally, at 4:00, all lights were extinguished ...lullabies were sung...and silence returned to the household. Only to be broken three short hours later...time for pancakes and sausages!!!!

By the time all the children were returned to their parents ...a quiet, sleepy happiness descended.

And it was only noon on Friday. The whole weekend lay ahead of us. M got her ears pierced on Saturday...we had two picnics on Sunday... and I went to DD with a friend to see her doctor. Despite, the apparently full weekend ...we add two trunk fulls of paper stuff to the recycling bin...added a heap of clothes and books to the give-away pile and began the process of transferring ownership of our vehicle.

As for me and the Cardiologist...first visit...soundly rebuked in a quiet, but firm Eastern sort of way for not keeping my BP in check. I thought it was reasonable, but I have been told other wise. And then I was given a list of blood tests with instructions to return as soon as I get the results. So, I type with a bruise on my arm from where blood was drawn this morning...10 mLs ...seemed like an awful lot to me.

...and I cried...

2007-04-11T19:07:00.000-07:00

For those of you who know me well, you know that I am not generally an emotional woman. So a friend dropped by yesterday at lunchtime to borrow a DVD for her class. And we chatted. She was asking me how we were doing with the move and things. And I shared simply.

She began to tell me about when her family left Africa and thought they were returning in a year. In the year that they were absent there was an evacuation from the country they were living in and they never returned. I started to say that I had hoped that I could say we would return in a year or two, but I feel like God is asking me to give up even that...

...and I suddenly was so overcome with a sense of loss that I couldn't recover and I wept.

I know that I am a bit out of touch with the emotional side of me...but it surprised me to be so undone.

I suppose part of my grief is due to very sad news I got that morning from a friend. It's the kind of news that shares part of the death of a dream...

In the last few years, B and I have often mused that part of the challenge of living in community is the shared griefs of the people. When your life rubs often against others you can't help but share in their experience...whether it is joys or sorrows.

A Living House and Martha Stewart

2007-04-10T05:48:00.000-07:00

I found this very cool idea...I wish I had a backyard to build one in...
This is a living willow house. Apparently, you build it with willow twigs, which take root and grow. This particular house is two months old, with time the walls of the house will fill in making a fun place to play...sit...hide...read...eat...have secret meeting where the problems of the world are solved.

In my internet wanderings, as I looked for inspiration for downsizing and simplifying, I came across this:http://www.marthastewart.com/blueprint If you scroll down a bit you will come across an article called 100 Reasons To Get Rid of It...so here are my favourites...
2. People burn 55 minutes a day looking for things.
3. 80 percent of what we own we never use.
50. Getting rid of clutter will reduce housework by 40 percent.
89. Because you don't want to end up like the Bronx, New York, man who, in 2003, was trapped in his home under an avalanche of books and newspapers for two days before being rescued.

Things I'd like to do with 'stuff' if I had it:
17. youthfortechnology.orgPut scanners, computers, and cameras in the hands of deserving, impoverished kids around the world.
24. dressforsuccess.orgGive interview and work clothing to disadvantaged women.
55. Trade in an old iPod and receive a 10 percent discount on a new one.
83. Lose the road maps and get a GPS system to download up-to-date travel guides.

These are just cool things that you can do with stuff:
10. Swaporamarama.orgAttend nationwide clothing exchanges and do-it-yourself alteration workshops.
11. Wildzipper.comWatch as a pile of your favorite old T-shirts is converted into a quilt.
41. Nikereuseashoe.comRecycled footwear materials become sports and playground surfaces.
48. Gaiam.comPlastic soda bottles become durable hammocks.
49. Recycline.comYogurt containers become colorful plates, flatware, toothbrushes, and razors.
83. Lose the road maps and get a GPS system to download up-to-date travel guides.

Apparently, Martha Stewart ran out of good reasons for getting rid of stuff, so she filled the penultimate 5 with quotes like:
90. "Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." -Leonardo da Vinci
91. "Less is more." -Ludwig Mies van der Rohe
92. "Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful." -William Morris
93. "You've got to accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative." -Johnny Mercer
94. "The joy of giving is indeed a pleasure, especially when you get rid of something you don't want." -Frank Butler and Frank Cavett, "Going My Way"

And the final word...
100. And what's the worst that can happen if you throw it out?

This shall be my mantra as I toss, give, sell and otherwise...get rid of 'it'.

Freegan? Steward?

2007-04-09T04:14:00.000-07:00

I heard the term freegan for the first time this weekend and decided that I would find out if it was a made-for-the-moment term or if it was a well used and defined term. As I have learned it is a term that seems to have been in use for at least the past 5 years.

So what is a freegan? The word itself is a bit of a play on the word vegan. And like veganism, freeganism relates to a style of eating as part of a larger philosophy of life. At http://freegan.info/ they define themselves as :
Freegans are people who employ alternative strategies for living based on limited participation in the conventional economy and minimal consumption of resources. Freegans embrace community, generosity, social concern, freedom, cooperation, and sharing in opposition to a society based on materialism, moral apathy, competition, conformity, and greed.
From this definition I think many would be hard pressed to find fault with their philosophy. However, it is more likely the methods that they use to achieve this that has many fingers wagging and heads shaking. Although I think that the principles that their way of life are based on could help each of us live more consiously and responsibly. They list their principles of living as: Waste Reclamation, Waste Reduction, Eco-friendly Transportation, Rent-free Housing, Going Green, Working Less/Voluntary Joblessness. Not that I am espousing that we all become squatters, give up our cars and quit our jobs; but that we consider the resources that we put into what we do and what we own. In this consideration, I wonder if we would find that we could improve our quality of life by having more time for the things that matter...the people in our lives.

Now I must confess that although I find the posibility of this kind of lifestyle appealing on some levels; as a mother would have a hard time enforcing such a stringent and challenging lifestyle on my children. In some ways, I think we already push the limits of what parents can expect children to bear up under and not be resentful about. In fact, as R read over my shoulder last night, she declared that she does not want to try to live like that. Fair enough...she is entitled to begin to think about life independant of how I think about life...on the other hand there are principles to a more simple lifestyle that I want to embrace and pass on to my children.

This brings me to an interesting conversation I had with my Dad last night...it was so great we got phone calls yesterday form both sides of the family and I got to talk with both B's Mom as well as my Mom and Dad, my youngest brother, his girlfriend and my cousin...

Anyway, my Dad was ribbing my about a post...of course, he was riling me up by not telling me which one he was referring to...anyway, it got me thinking, which of course, was what he wanted to make me do...here I am putting my unadulterated thoughts on display for anyone to read...what kind of responsibility do I have to those who read?

Then it hit me this morning...like exploring the idea of a freegan lifestyle and what it would mean to me and then what impact would it have to those around me...the thoughts I post are things that I would like to interact with people about...and for whatever reason I don't have people present here to explore some of these things with...

So I will re-issue my invitation to anyone who reads my blog...please tell me if you think that I am being offensive, heretical, insulting, unrealistic, illogical or maybe verging on insane...

So returning to my initial subject... What do you think about a freegan lifestyle? Wikipedia says that it involves these activities: foraging(commonly called dumpster diving or skipping), wild foraging(as in foraging growing or gathering what is growing in your community), squatting, sharing of resources (like freecycle and freestores), ridesharing, community gardens, bicycle programs.

I was trying to think today of ways to incorporate some of the principles of freegan philosophy into the life that we live. I think that the most appealing thing for me is to live avoiding, as much as I am able, exploiting resources, whether those resources are things, animals or people. For a long time now I have been weighing in my mind what it means to be a steward of the world around me...maybe some of this will move me towards being a better steward of what I have been given.

Descriptive of Offspring

2007-04-03T19:50:00.000-07:00

I wasn't going to post today...I think that everyone has heard enough about my woes regarding the impending transition. However, when visiting http://dressaday.com this morning I came across this fantastic quote...

Especially not anyone I spent a lot of time and effort PERSONALLY MAKING in my WOMB.

Erin, who writes this very fun blog, used this line referring to her son. I love it, someone I spent a lot of time and effort personally making in my womb. Of course, I am aware that there were other forces at work creating my girls inside my body...

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. -Psalm 139:13

At the same time there is an element of working with God...He doesn't decide what you eat and how well you take care of yourself...you do that...and when you are pregnant you spend a lot of your energy, physically, mentally, spiritually and emotionally focused on what's going on with the tenant inside of your body.

As I consider the fact that my family has reached it's maximum size there is a pang of sadness. I have enjoyed so much of the experience of carrying, having and caring for wee ones. It is such a double edged experience...full to the brim with blessings and challenges. Now I face moving into the next phase of life...haven't had diapers in the house in over 18 months...on the cusp of having my own teenagers in the house(still 18 months away from now)... I have had to make peace with the fact that the lifestyle we are living has imposed limits on many things...including the number of children I can govern and raise.

So I will look fondly on the four small people that are in my house. When life is overwhelming, I will remind myself that I worked alongside God to bring them well into the world; and I need to continue to be with 'His program' to be able to send them well out into the world.

oops...I have neglected to fulfill a week of daily posts!

2007-03-29T20:00:00.000-07:00

I must say I had a fun day shopping on Wednesday. I so rarely get out of the house without one or more small people attached that being out without them is a treat in itself. Of course, P had a few last minute protests...which resulted in me forgetting to bring along the camera to share my adventures...so no pics today.

But what I did realize was that by ordering a few pieces of 'Western clothes' I have began to shift my thoughts foward. Given the appeal that clothing here has for me I would happily continue wearing what I have. But a dear friend of mine has warned me that it might make me too odd to make new friends... The other factor that dawned on me was that it would also make me miss being here...I think I would run the risk of living in the past and not looking forward for the new thing that is happening. I have been consoling myself that it doesn't mean that we won't be back, but that even in coming back it will be different here, and what we do will be different.

...B is away this weekend with the grade 5 and 6 classes...that includes R. After this weekend, we should have two weekends to sort out the house and confirm a price with the movers...or relocation experts... I must admit that the thought of preparation still gives me a bit of the pit-of-the-stomach anxiety. However, we do need to move forward.

The funny thing is that I sold my sewing machine. Truthfully, B sold it for me and when he was negotiating I was annoyed... I was so not ready that I have stalled on giving it to the man who bought it until Wednesday night. The man who bought it is a tailor and he came Wednesday night to take my measurements for a few pieces of clothing I ordered. I bit the bullet and told him he could pick it up the next day. So by Thursday Lunch I knew I had to surrender my sewing machine...I dismantled it and set it by the front door so it would be easy ...and it's gone. It's not the fact that I no longer have my sewing machine. It's the fact that it is the sewing machine that B bought me as a surprise and now it's gone. And it's the fact that it means that life is changing...and I need to be willing to yield to the forces of change or be miserable.

So I am willing myself to be willing...

I am so hoping that when I get my clothes I will really like them and be able to look forward to wearing them...which means leaving here and living in a country where I can wear them. Using a tailor around here is always a risk...sometimes they are fantastic...and sometimes they are annoyingly slow and very disappointing...

The middle photo is of the girls and two honourary uncles...our friend to the left is affectionately called Uncle Loopy and our friend to the right is called by the title Chacha ( father's younger brother.)

Just for consistency, another post this week.

2007-03-27T19:44:00.000-07:00

I thought that since I have time today...I'll post. The girls have a late start today. This allows most of the staff to attend a morning meeting from 8:30 to 10:00...some dorm parents need to stay on duty...but that's just the way it is at a boarding school.

Think I'll post some pictures...

Here are two ballerina princesses that danced into our house one day. There is no fun like dress-up fun!!!!

Two little flowers sitting among the rhododendrons.

B in Dharamsala with the the Dalai Lama.

Two big girls browsing in the Bazaar.

Well, it's time to herd the small people in my house towards getting dressed and ready for the day. I need to think of something interesting for tomorrow's blog...ah, I will be shopping today, maybe shopping photos?!

The error of my ways.

2007-03-26T19:13:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I was reflecting on my view of the world around me and how that effects my relationships. B and I meet weekly with another couple, who are getting ready to be married. Our conversations always challenge me to be as real as necessary and listen better than usual. It is exciting to see two people embarking on a journey with no idea where it might take them. For me, the fact that people still get married shows me that we, as a community of human beings, still believe in the unseen. Love, trust, hope, faith, these are all unseen qualities; and yet vital components to making marriage work.

So in my self-examination I saw again the ways that I have been changed. I also saw that I still struggle with embracing a more Stoic view of life rather than a fully Christian one. It is easier for me at times to put my head down and push through difficult times rather than sharing how I feel and revealing my vulterability. Actually, it was B, who observed my stoic tendancies before I was able to define what I was struggling with.

At dictionary.com, you can find several definitions for STOIC. Here is a brief summary of what it means to be a stoic: Stoic –adjective 1. of or pertaining to the school of philosophy founded by Zeno, who taught that people should be free from passion, unmoved by joy or grief, and submit without complaint to unavoidable necessity. There is also an aspect of stoicism that relates to God being ultimately in charge, virtue leading to happiness and general acceptance of all events as destiny.

As I read through the definitions, I could understand why the early Greeks thought that Christians might just be a new kind of Stoics. In fact, today many might look at the Calvinist sector of the Western Church and see a reflection of the stoic worldview. But for me, I know that if I am pushing through life, not allowing myself to be moved by passion and just doing the right thing or the thing that must be done, then I am out-of-step with the kind of life I am called to in Christ.

Whenever I find myself in a stoic frame of mind I often return to this verse:
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. - john 10:10

Full life...what a wonderous concept...to be able to experience all the joy and pleasure of this world...to be able to grieve and mourn and weep for all the pain of this world...to be able to sustain hope in the midst of trials, tribulation, and trauma. That would be a FULL LIFE for me.

What would make your life more FULL?

Becoming a Christian...an act of rebellion?!

2007-03-25T19:06:00.000-07:00

I spent a good portion of this weekend annoyed...annoyed with the self-righteousness of the people who think that because they have experienced 'altered states of consciousness" due to the use of substances; they have a more valid opinion on the use of and lifestyle involving these things...argh!

In hindsight, I suffer from amazement that I did not use alcohol, tobacco and drugs to alter my mind and widen my experiences. It was all available and not really prohibited. My parents and the adults around me had the attitude that 'sex, drugs and rock n'roll' were all part of the process of growing up. Now, I might have had people espousing a more moral lifestyle but I was intuitive enough to see that they were not living by the standards they were teaching.

So when I entered university, although my family life was checkered and unstable, the part of life that I had control over was successful. I had a boyfriend...popular, good-looking, intelligent, and on the university basketball team. I had a scholarship that was covering my tuition. I was able to achieve honour-roll standing without putting myself out. I had a part-time job that I was thriving in and being paid well .

...sounds like something I could take credit for, eh? But what it led me to was a deep sense of dissatisfaction. If I could set up my life at age 18, 19, so that it was all on a trajectory towards comfort, security and success; then there must be more. If fact, I became so sure that there must be more that I started exploring more...however, that never included substance abuse. Why?

You see, I had the unfortunate experience...maybe not that unfortunate...to be able to see lives that were touched by smoking, drugs and alcohol...they were not successful lives. They were lives that trapped people. Once headed in that direction these lives never turned around. I now know that it is possible to break out of these destructive lifestyles; but at that time in my life I only saw grief-filled devastated lives.

I also noticed people behaving stupidly, and out of control, wasting time, money and energy. People had experiences that didn't seem to make them better human beings; so there were no positive selling features. I was not willing to put myself under the control of a substance or of another person...I knew that I could trust neither to have my best interests at heart.

...somehow, I began having conversations about spiritual life. I wanted to know the whys and hows. Quite honestly, my friends and loved ones who had 'spiritual experiences' through drugs just spewed the same kind of 'new-age crap'. And when I looked at their lives I did not see that the things they talked about...freeing their minds...had any beneficial effect on them. In fact, after the experience they were not changed, nor moved to impact the world around them.

I knew that I wanted to live a life that mattered...in fact, even today I want to be able to be part of something beyond myself. Did it matter if I was happy and made lots of money? That seemed to be the mantra of the world around me...be happy, not too happy...make money, get things, and everything will be fine.

The reason I entered the program I did in university was because it was a subject that I could do and come out with a career that would provide me with money, success and security. I knew then as I know now that I was not passionate about the field...just capable...

Even today, B most often uses that word for me...capable... The challenge is that I know if I am pushing life forward by my own ability then I am not letting God lead. Whenever I step back and see that I have been making decisions on my own; I then know that I need to stop and reconsider my track. In my life, I can unequivocally say that if my life does not need God and the people around me then I have slipped back into my old habits; I am then retuning to the lifestyle that I left behind. The next step is to humble myself, repent and ask forgiveness. And, usually, I need to ask Brian for help to connect me back to my 'now reality'.

You see, the year between my 19th and 20th birthdays I found who I was searching for...I suppose you could say that He found me, but I think that He was probably there all along and I just needed to be able to see Him.

What began and an act of rebellion against the messages of my culture resulted in a deep humbling of my soul before an Almighty and Powerful God? And He didn't make it easy for me. For those of you who know me, you already know that I am not given to spells of emotional breakdown. In fact, I really try not to be overcome by my emotions...but in that first encounter I was, in such a real and unexpected way. I knew that He knew me...not like the people around me knew me, but in a deep and no-holds barred kind of way. And I knew that life could never be the same after that.

I suppose as I draw all this together, my conclusion is that we all experience the angst of forging an identity for ourselves separate from the world around us. But my question to myself continues to be to did I forge that identity by the messages that the world whispered into my ear or by the messages of the Creator who whispers into my heart?

Food, Food, Glorious Food

2007-03-24T02:23:00.000-07:00

I was chatting with one of our Dorm Parents here. She was sharing some of the issues that some of her girls have with body image and eating well. It reminded me of the models that have recently died due to complications of anorexia. Then I was reading a post a friend of mine made on her blog the global phenomena of obesity and over-eating.

And all of that has given rise to this stream of consciousness...

I am guessing that this is the first time in the history of the world that some people have access to so much food that they can sustain an unhealthy weight over a long period of time. I remember in the first years being here on the hillside and going running with a group of teachers. I didn't last long...not that I didn't enjoy running, but that I suddenly became aware of the disjoint between me and the people in the surrounding community. The fact that I needed to exercise indicates what a luxurious lifestyle I have compared with the women, who have to walk to fetch water and care for the crops and the men, who walk for miles to sell their vegetables or milk in the town. After I was struck with that thought, I became conscious of the access I had to food, time and technological resources and it has led me into examining how I use these resources.

I never saw food as a luxury. But in the less developed regions of the world the view of an
overweight person demonstrates that most still see excess food as a luxury available to the wealthy and powerful. As we have become more affluent in Western countries we have enjoyed the access to delicacies. And as our lifestyles have become less physically active we have expanded proportionally.

On the other hand, I have never seen food as the enemy...the thing I must control to be in control of my life or to to be in control of my appearance. It is one of the advantages to having an Italian heritage...food is the centre of all celebrations.

As always there are two opposing pitfalls to our relationship with food. One may be more acceptable, but both are equally unhealthy to our physical and mental health. As I have tried to adjust my lifestyle to meet my current health needs I have seen myself wavering on the path. For a time I was disturbed by the changes I needed to make; sometimes I made bad choices, other times I just did not eat because I didn't know what to eat.

And being the information junkie that I am I started reading and researching everything I could. Of course, what I wanted was to find an authoritative voice that would say if you do this, then you will be well. Of course, I did not find that...in fact I even received seemingly contrary direction from the doctors I spoke with.

Now I have had to revisit the teaching that I gave to R. When R was in second grade, she started coming home very, very hungry. I couldn't figure out why she was so hungry... it is a very real possibility to contract worms, ameoba, giardia, which can affect your appetite. As R and I chatted I found out that she was worried about getting fat. Apparently, 'getting fat' had been a topic of discussion in the school dining hall. So R and I debriefed...at the time she was significantly taller than her close friends, who were also known to be picky eaters. We talked about how a taller girl probably needs more fuel than a smaller girl, and how food is the fuel that your body runs on. And now I have had an Ah-ha moment...

So if food is the fuel that my body uses, then I need to know what my body needs to run well. Maybe the issues of being an unhealthy weight is about the view of food we have. None of us put more gasoline or petrol into our vehicles than it can hold...particularly with the current cost of fuel...the tank will just overflow and the fuel will spill out on the ground. And we know that without enough fuel in the vehicle, it will eventually stop running. Some vehicles will run better on a particular fuel; our vehicle uses diesel, anything else will not do.

Now if we apply this idea to us. Food is the fuel that our body runs on. Our body may have special needs and so we need to give it the fuel that it will run well on.

What do you think?

Google for Fun

2007-03-21T20:42:00.000-07:00

So I served couscous to some friends and learned there is a local grain called jhungra that is similar in texture and taste...so I thought that I'd try to find out if it is a grain specific to the hills here or if it is a more widely used grain that has another name...

If you want info what do you do?

My first line of attack is google...So I enter jhungra, grain...and come up with about three hits and the suggestion by the gods of google...Did you mean hungry brain?

Of course, B was reading over my shoulder...and we had a good giggle.

It got me thinking that maybe I do have a hungry brain and I need to make sure I feed it good things.

P.S. I just jumped up because I thought I felt something on my leg...as all sensible people do I slapped the general area of sensation...and a dead spider fell out of the bottom of my jeans...yuck!!!! Now I'll have that creepy crawly feeling all day!!!

FYI

2007-03-17T21:04:00.000-07:00

Yup, the date stamp on my posts are off...It is now getting to be late Sunday morning here!

Thanks Friends!!!

2007-03-17T20:41:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to thank all those who added comments to my last post. It is encouraging to know that you are welcoming us back into your life.

I think I posted on Thursday morning...the time difference doesn't seem to be reflected on the post...I am sure I could fix it...but... Anyway, the night before I had a call from a dear friend who recently settled back in California. She is so sweet and totally honest. So she wanted to share some of the challenges that she has been facing in the past several months as she re-enters American culture. One of the things she said was that it should be different for me because I have a family and we are making the choice to leave. That really struck me...will it be easier for me???

The truth is that although I know without a doubt that it is time to packup and move back, I don't know that I can say that I want to leave the hillside. Last week, in one of the ladies groups that meet in our home the question came up: If money was not an obstacle what event would you plan for your friends/family? Immediately, I thought, "Bring them all here, of course!" I would love the opportunity to share my new home with my old friends. To walk with them through the paths, the hills, the Bazaar, the school...to sit and eat in my home and in my favourite restaurants...to visit the people who have become significant to me...that would be such a joy to me.

I know that there is so much technology to facilitate communication and so I don't have to leave behind many of my friends. But what about all these dear women, who have no access to technology? Some don't really speak English and some don't even have a phone in their house. My mind reminds me that I can continue to pray for them, but my heart says that I will miss their presence in my life.

...pictures...I need to be intentional about taking photos of people...In the end, life is about the relationships we forge. The things I miss about home are relationships...over the years food and comforts have ceased to carry enough weight to sustain a longing for them.

So thanks again...and I will take all of you up on your offer to listen to my stories...and I want to hear the stories that have grown in your life in the time we have been apart.

Thinking about 'THE MOVE'

2007-03-14T20:29:00.000-07:00

As the days whittle away...I am beginning to feel the anxiety in the pit of my stomach...

My friend, Rachna, asked me if I was getting ready to move...I laughed and said I am in denial. Since then I have been thinking about what I need to do to prepare. It all seems overwhelming. At this point I am not ready to leave.

It seems like many people have plans for us. Even my househelper has plans. She wants me to go to school, become a teacher and come back to work at the school. I think she doesn't really understand why 'The Sa'ab' wants to go to school again.

The most disconcerting thing for me right now is the 'not knowing'. I really can't say that I know what comes next...and I can't even articulate what I want to happen next. Living here has changed me and I know that I am not who I was, but I also know that I am struggling to find the redefinition of myself.

There are so many things I love about life here. The physical environment is second to none, to be able to stand outside our house and see the expanse of the valley beneath us; to be able to take a short walk and stand in awe of snow capped mountians. And then there is the cultural environment...a culture that operates on the basis of relationship, that views a person more holistically than most, that wants to teach you how to become one of them.

And then the girls...this place on the side of the mountain is more home than anywhere else in the world. They don't yet know what it is to be Canadian...they have grown up, at least partly, in one of the most multiethnic, multicultural, multinational, multireligious environments imaginable...and now they need to prepare to give it all up with us. Being a wife and a mommy I have become so aware that my decisions are not my own. My husband and children will be deeply affested by my choices and so I cannot make a decision as if I exist in a vacuum.

On the other side of this is the knowledge that when we land 'home' there will be familiar faces and the loving homes of friend and family. But that brings the slew of new questions: Will we fit back in? Will our friends and family have time for us? Will we annoy everyone with stories of the life we left? ...and that's only the tip of the issues that whirl in my head.

I try to set the anxieties in balance against the coming blessings...but the coming things, both blessings and challenges, are all unknowns. And it is the unknowns that are the most troubling...

Broccoli,strawberries and shy kids.

2007-03-08T01:24:00.000-08:00

I think by now most of my friends know that I am a bit of a stream of consciousness style blogger. So I was visiting a few blogs of friends and thought I'd jot a quick post before life grabs me by the throat and throws me back in the mix.

R is at school. M is baking at a friend's house. A and P are sleeping. B is in his office. Everyone accounted for and so I can breathe.

Broccoli is in season...it is fantastic. The thing is, it is a fairly new veggie here. And generally, everyone says ony foreigners want it. So if it is being grown where there are few foreigners it is cheap, cheap, cheap...but up here...well, let's just say, it's not so cheap. I am so impressed with the ability of the villagers to culivate new crops and then find a market for it. If only they would eat it.

And now...strawberries...again...not too cheap. But I have been serving the girls fresh chopped strawberries, with a wee bit of sugar sprinkled on top and a healthy topping of cream...yum!

But that brings me to shy children. I just read an interesting blog from a mommy of shy children. I must say that my children run the gamut from quite shy to very friendly. I have to agree that a good part of it is personality...no use discipling personality, you'll end up on the wrong side of the child.

However, I have always thought that part of my role as a mom is to help my children overcome their own weaknesses. In a world where you must relate to people to get on, it is helpful to give tools to our children to facilitate that. But, tools need to be given as the need arises or when the need is felt by the child. Giving a hammer to someone who still needs to chop the tree down, and make the lumber isn't the most useful thing. Now, once the lumber is stacked and construction is ready to begin then a hammer and nails will be useful.

My R is more shy than M. The blessing to me has been that shyness has not meant a lack of confidence. She is able to be onstage to sing in the choir and play a duet with her piano teacher. But she is not comfortable in situations where she is in a new place with new people. She needs to work out her place in the new situation and I have to give her the space to do that. We are working out ways that she can find that space without being perceived as rude, but fear is not the root of her shyness.

Interestingly, I was speaking with a high school student recently, who was telling me that their Health class did a mental wellness quiz. He noticed that all the extroverts were more 'well' than the intoverts. I think we can mistake friendly smiles for mental wellbeing and good manners, while deeper issues may lie unchanged and unhealed.

On the other hand, I understand that pride can come into play, particularly with older children. I have heard the excuse, "That's just the way I am." from both children and adults. But I don't think sensitive children actually want hurt anyone's feelings; so as the grown-up I am responsible for understanding that I might be a scary adult and not to be offended.

It's true that eventually we all learn how to cope with the world around us. As a mom I just want ot be able to hand the right tool to my daughter(s) at the right time to make that job easier.

Happy Holi!!

2007-03-04T19:48:00.000-08:00

This weekend was Holi, a Hindu festival where some boundaries are pushed and fun is had by all...or most.
The holiday is celebrated by throwing colours, paint and water balloons. Usually, if you want to avoid the colour you just stay home...unaware foreigners make good targets...

There are two stories associated with Holi. One is about a prince, who was a devotee of Vishnu, but whose father was a wicked king. With the help of an evil Auntie, named Holika, the king plotted to kill the prince. Vishnu intervened and saved the prince and the evil Auntie was burned up. So bonfires are lit the night beginning Holi celebrating the triumph of good over evil.

And then the other explains the colour throwing. Krishna, an incarnation of Vishnu, used to tease gopis (shepherdesses) by spraying them with rose water...so people spray each other with colour. Don't worry if you can't find the link...I am not sure there is one.

All week there were ads in a National Newspaper with holiday advice.
For a safe Holi avoid the following:
*Throwing water/coloured water or water balloons at passers-by.
*Forcing unwilling people to play Holi.
*Using indecent language or behaving riotously.
*Eve-teasing.
*Drunken Driving.
*Throwing dirt or chemicals.
*Triple riding on two-wheelers.
*Riding without a helmet.
One of the things that seems to characterize these kinds of celebrations is boundary breaking...a kind of permission is granted to break taboos.

Our experience of the boundary breaking was limited this year to watching revellers. The boys in the top left photo had been smoking and drinking. Fortunately , they were placated by a friendly greeting and posing for a photo. Then we drove out to the hills...after the third barricade manned by rowdy boys demanding money for sweets...we decided to turn back.

Later, I'll post picture of the big girls playing colours with their friends...they were totally covered in colours...like they walked through an explosion at a paint factory. Someone once told me that she thought that Hindu festivals were all made to appeal to children(and the child in us)...lights, colours, dancing and parties. I wonder if we wouldn't do well to learn to celebrate so that everyone wanted to join in the fun!!

My girls!

2007-02-21T18:55:00.000-08:00

Just thought I'd share some photos of the girls. To the left is R in January at Flag Hill. Behind her are Tibetan Prayer Flags.

The photo to the right is M on Valentine's Day. It was amazing that we got no real snow until then. Then it snowed for two days straight. The girls had so much fun throwing snow balls and trying to build a snow fort.

It's fun that A and P still love to strike a pose for the camera. While we traveled they both generally enjoyed posing for tourists who wanted a picture of them. For P, a camera phone that she can look at after the photo is taken is very enticing. So here are the two little ones in the snow. They spent the whole day outside, after breakfast, after lunch, after dinner...

One week later, no snow, the sun is trying to warm up up. My mom and dad were asking about the temperature...and I had no idea. However, a friend of mine was saying that their indoor temperature last week hovered between 5 and 10 degrees Celcius in the unheated rooms.

It's been snowing!!!

2007-02-14T19:10:00.000-08:00

I love the way it looks when it snows. Everything gets a fresh coat of sparkling white that glistens in the sunlight...

What I don't love is the lack of central heating... After two days of snow we are running low on the wood we bought that we thought would see us through the rest of the winter. However, since I am home with the girls in the daytime we have used much more than expected. And it's not even toasty warm...yesterday, I spent the day in a fleece to keep the chill off.

I just got a photo from my friend Shikha of our house...or our compound, since what you see looks like a big building, and houses five families. She must have taken this shot from her front door...it gives you an idea of the elevation differences on campus.

So the big building to the upper left is our house. The road in the lower right is the main road going anywhere from here. And the railing in the forefront is Shikha's yard. And if you look off into the distance on the upper right side you can just see the roofs of the residence buildings.

The snow is a welcome relief for the area, in years where we don't get substantial snowfall we suffer with forest fires in the late spring before monsoons. But for me there is nothing like the esthetically pleasing beautiful of freshly fallen snow...reminds me of home!

I'll post more snow pics in the next day or two...now I am off to tackle the hill...M, P and I are headed to visit a friend at the top of the hill.

Parents as Slaves?

2007-02-11T02:53:00.000-08:00

So I was having this discussion with another parent today. As sometimes happens this particular parent was feeling discouraged with their children's attitude...and the statement that struck me was, '...parents are just slaves to their children.'

The more I ponder this statement the more I think it is a true statement...or maybe it is a true metaphor for what it is to be a parent. The illustration that came to mind was one of a man, who had been given his freedom and then chose to relinquish it for the sake of love. In Exodus chapter 21, there is an option for a Hebrew, who after completing his six years of service and had freedom in the seventh year to continue as a slave in the household of his Master. The man was taken to the door post and had his ear pierced and he was then a slave for life.

I wonder if it is fair to say that in some sense once we have children, each child has pierced our ear and we belong to him or her for life for the sake of our love for them. I know that there are many metaphors when it comes to parenting...teacher, mentor, guide, but they tend to flatter the parent. If we consider ourselves as a slave...would it change how we felt about meeting their needs and even their demands?

I am sure that we have all seen parents who were little more than a slave to their child. In fact, I met one mom who regularly made alternate meals for one of her children, and another who made a buffet for breakfast every morning in hopes that her son would eat something before school. But if we step back and look at the longterm good of the child, one day will the child actually be thankful for that kind of parenting?

I actually think that in some ways we are slaves, who have more knowledge than those we serve. So our goals need to revolve around more than meeting immediate desires. Our goal needs to be to cultivate good character at every point so that the child will grow in understanding. But on those days when we are tired or in the middle of the night when we are asleep and children call if we take the mindset of a slave would in be easier?

I am not sure if I know the answer, but I was just thinking of this from Luke 17:
"Suppose one of you had a servant plowing or looking after the sheep. Would he say to the servant when he comes in from the field, 'Come along now and sit down to eat'? Would he not rather say, 'Prepare my supper, get yourself ready and wait on me while I eat and drink; after that you may eat and drink'? Would he thank the servant because he did what he was told to do?

So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.' "

One of the most challenging things about parenting is the constant call. There is no rest, once you are a parent, you are a parent, no vacation or holiday removes the responsibility of the role. If we can say that we are only doing our duty maybe we won't miss the gratitude that normally comes when we serve. Isn't that the one of the principles of service? It's about serving without expectation, serving because it's what we are called to do.

To disagree or not to disagree, that is the question?

2007-02-05T20:35:00.000-08:00

I just want to say that I am very appreciative for the comments on my previous posts...even Paula who tells me that I am a bit confusing.

I have learned to welcome points of disagreement. It causes me to sit back and reconsider my statements, which can come across as rather absolute. For me growth comes through discussion and disagreement, to sit and have an exchange with another human being, who has thought through some of the same issues can be very enriching.

Two examples come to mind...one I did not appreciate...and another I did. The first was when I was disagreeing with a friend on a point of doctrine...I thought that I had made an acceptable point, but my friend disagreed and simply said, "You are using unscriptural language." That was the only answer to me...for my friend that closed the discussion, if my language wasn't scriptural than ther was no need for answer...I had the sudden realization that my position was not welcome...so I excused myself for a cup of tea and joined the children in the other room.

The other example was during a study I was hosting in my house. We were looking at Lot's daughters and discussing both the circumstances and their response to finding themselves without husbands, with no hope of husbands. A friend simply said, " I think that they knew what they wanted and were showing initiative." A startling statement...it sent us all back through the story and the previous chapters to find out what commands had been given and what might have affirmed and opposed their choice. In case you aren't sure what choice I am referring to, it was the choice to get their father, Lot, drunk and sleep with him in order to have a baby. In the end, we came to the conclusion that the daughters did not trust that God would give them what they needed and so they tried to satisfy their legitimate desires in an illegitimate manner.

Healthy disagreement helps us to re-examine what we have held as true. And if what we hold as true is truth, than it will always be confirmed in the light of a new perspective and new evidence.

One of the things I have missed in increasing measure is having people, who disagree with me, take the time to dicuss our differences of perspective. It is important to be able to revisit ideas and positions that I formed long ago and see if they hold true in light of life and maturity. More than anything I want to have my world view formed by the teachings of the Bible... knowing that I still have room to grow in my knowledge of the bible, I want to be taught and where I am in opposition to the scriptures then I know I am wrong and need to change my mind. But that can only happen when my mind comes up against an opposing mind...

So please tell me I am mistaken, confusing, offer correction, direction...

As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another. - Proverbs 27:17

Freedom to...?

2007-02-04T23:05:00.000-08:00

I was just thinking about my previous post...hope that I didn't offend anyone. But I have been thinking more about the freedom we have in Christ.

In the last few days I have had several conversations about judgement and forgiveness. I know that I tend towards a hardline, black and white. But living outside of my home culture has helped me to desire to shed whatever external criteria I have had to judge by. You see, while I live here I live with the knowledge that I am judged by the colour of my skin. No matter what other external ways that I conform in, I cannot change the colour of my skin and eyes. And the colour that my skin is speaks to the people around me, I am always working back from the assumptions that it leads people to make.

People, generally, use externals to judge, desiring conformity and uniformity as indicators of unity. Often the result of this is that deeper issues and uncomfortable topics are sidestepped in favour of trying to making everyone look the same. A good example of this is the French government's attempt to enforce conformity by restricting the wearing of symbols perceived to be religious. So it is illegal to display your religious affliation...external conformity is legislated in an attempt to produce national unity.

As Christians I think that we shouldn't be subject to the fear that has led to this kind of legislation. In fact the Bible is limited in it's instructions on outer appearance, instead the writers show a preference for teaching principles rather than directives regarding things like clothing and hair. This results in guidelines that are broad enough to make it hard to comment on a person's spiritual condition by looking at their appearance. Then there are other 'questionable practices'...watching TV/movies, schooling choices, household decoration, spending styles...nevermind the hot topics of alcohol and cigarettes, decisions for all these things need to be guided by biblical principles rather than a set of dos and don'ts.

About a year ago I came across this quoteby C.S. Lewis: How monotonously alike all the great tyrants and conquerors have been: how gloriously different are the saints.

In context of the things I have been thinking about, I think that we have lost this very thing that C.S. Lewis is describing. Maybe we are even afraid of it, and so the church has resorted to judging by external criteria. The result has been that we don't want to dig deep, we satsfy ourselves with an external conformity and never look beneath the veneer to see if there is life.

Of course, life is far more complicated if we refuse to endorse external conformity...but maybe then the church would be filled with saints, who are gloriously different. And then we would truly be a welcoming place that drew people in by the love that was present. Like Jesus said, we will be known by the love we have for each other.

As B and I watched BARAKA the other night with our friend John, we were all delighting in the wonder of creation; and also the wonder of the diversity of beauty, not only in the Natural World, but also in humanity...can you imagine the scene in heaven at the end of time...every nationality of person you have ever seen, whether in a photo or on television or walking down the street...they will be represented!!!

I am convinced that when the people are gathered from every tongue and tribe and nation the atmosphere with be more like a conglomerate of episodes from National Geographic than anything else we currently experience. We will stand in the midst of the throng of humanity and know that C.S. Lewis was right when he observed the glorious differences in the saints.

So despite what might have come across in my previous post, I want you to know that I expect there to be distinct revelations of Christ in each of us. The end test is that: we all stand on Christ, the life that we live is in Christ and the character we long for is His character revealed in us.

Adultery, Affairs of the Heart, and Faith

2007-01-29T20:06:00.000-08:00

It seems obvious that there are certain standards that we could call Christian and particular behaviour that we expect of those who call themselves Christian. Many of us would struggle to call a person a Christian if she regularly shop lifted... although some would call her a kleptomaniac and obsolve her of personal sin in the matter. Possibly, we would agree that a serial killer was not a believer; then again if he was born as pyschopath or sociopath then maybe he is not responsible for his sin. I wonder if there are any boundaries we can draw that there would be no exception to?

I remember at FBC there was a man attending Sunday Morning Service, a member of the congregation, and as it turned out living with a woman, who was not his wife. In the end the elders spoke with him and the conclusion of the matter was for his name to be taken off the member roll; consequently he felt no compulsion to attend church services. And one of the elderly women at the church was annoyed that we didn't encourage his effort to at least attend Sunday Morning Services...

What is the church for...to stand with open arms to welcome anyone who would darken it's doorstep? Yes...but what about those who find a trusting congregation the perfect place to prey upon the young and unsupervised? I am truly concerned about where the line is appropriately drawn.

Like a man I know who professes to be a Christian and who I suspect is in longterm romantic relationship with a woman who is not a Christian. I want to tell him marry her and be honest about how you feel about her. Not that I think it's the best idea to marry someone who does not share your faith. But what good is it to tell someone, 'I love you, but I can't marry you, but I will sleep with you.' Be honest with yourself, with the woman and the rest of the world around you...you have already decided to put your desire for relationship above your desire to abide by the instructions for life given by the teachings of Jesus.

In my mind this is very similar to the people who accuse the Catholic Church of wrongdoing when they discourage the use of contraceptives, particularly in the AIDS overrun countries of Africa. If those people would step back from their anti-Catholic prejuidice they could see that the church encourages sex with in the bounds of marriage, no extramarital sex allowed ...before or during your marriage. If Catholic Africas don't listen to the Church's teaching about chastity and faithfulness, then do they really care if the Church is opposed to condom use? Let's be honest about the situation...the people engaging in irresponsible sex aren't planning to use condoms if the Church starts endorsing them, are they?

I suppose that leads me up to this current situation...a married man sleeping with a woman, who is married to a different man. The excuse: '...it has been a very stressful time for me...' Huh? So you cope with stress by sleeping with someone you are not married to? So, for how long have you used this as a coping mechanism, you poor thing? I hope you can detect my sarcasm.

I realize life is difficult and following the teachings of Jesus, at times, makes our life more complicated. But can't we testify to the blessing there is in living a holy and pure life. Or do we live with the regret of committing ourselves to a high standard of morality and ethics? Do we harbour longings, deep within our consciousness, about what we wish we would have tried before embarking on this path to holiness?

My thoughts have gone in this direction...when we accept that we can set convenient boundaries, like 'sex within a committed relationship' how do we then define 'committed relationship'. The man, who was sleeping with someone else's wife, felt like he was committed to this other woman, he continued relationship once distance made sex impossible. She had become his friend, his confidant; he was, and maybe still is, committed to the relationship. Does that count?? I know that my friend, who thought it was okay for teenagers to have sex with someone they were committed to, would agree that adultery, even if the consenting adults were committed to the relationship, was unacceptable. When we begin to flex, where do we stop?

I suffer, in some ways, for not having grown up in a home where Christ was the centre. One of the ways, is that unlike many, I have not understood the Church to be the paragon of judgement and Victorian morality. My experience of the Church has been one where traditional morality is questioned and often disregarded, where people exercise their 'freedom in Christ' to explore the sin of the current age. I can see know that this tension led to many misunderstandings as I learned to walk out my new life in Christ. I learned that I was thought of as odd, opinionated and even judgemental...by the Christians I was meeting...some of my friends, who didn't share my new found faith knew I was opinionated and also thought me odd, and maybe a little mentally unstable... But it was the Christians, who I expected to support me in my pursuit to shed the sins of my past life, who questioned my zeal and belittled my understanding.

I suppose all of this is returning me to the metaphor of SALT and LIGHT...salt is for seasoning and preserving...light is for seeing and understanding. Can we really say that we are these two things to the world around us?

Recently, I was so disturbed to hear that some Hindus were sympathizing with the man caught in adultery. They were saying that this poor man was caught up in a conflict of cultures, those Indian Christians should realize that Westerners, even Western Christians, think that adultery is not a sin. WHAT?!

So much for salt and light...we are the paragons of compromise, tolerance and indulgence.

I just re-read this and decided to add one caveat. I actually don't expect anyone to live like a Christian if they aren't one. I mean that if someone doesn't care to identify themselves as a Christian, than I don't expect that they will live like one. In that case, both of us can be honest and open, with no judgement from either direction; thus making a basis for relationship that is not there when someone wants to hide sin in the midst of arguments for grace and forgiveness.

Not to say that there aren't moral non-Christians, because there are; and not to say that there is no place for grace and forgiveness, because there is. But just to say that if you identify yourself with a label make sure you are prepared to embrace that label, or else maybe it's time to pick a new label...redefinition is just a pitiful path for those lacking the strength of conviction to be honest with themselves and the world around them.

Celeb Collages

2007-01-28T04:20:00.000-08:00

Here's M....

M is pleased to be told that she looks like all these glam girls!!!
I think that I am going to skip P...babies are just bundles of cuteness anyways.

I am expecting B to return shortly. He's been gone since Thursday. All of us are better when he's around. I think that with his meetings over and decisions finally made then he can get on with doing what he likes to do best...teaching.

Monday morning, bright and early, staff retreat gets off to an early start. School is 10 days away. Hopefully, this semester will be quiet and uneventful.

Well, I am off to set the table, B is bringing home a few people for dinner as well.

More Look Alikes

2007-01-26T21:17:00.000-08:00

R thought that the celeb lookalike collages were cool. So here is one with her in it....

Now here is A...

Fun, eh?

A little entertainment

2007-01-26T11:34:00.000-08:00

It's been a rough few weeks and so I thought I'd do something for fun...so I found this website on Kellie's blog...

Now, don't worry I won't let it go to my head...It's just so funny since there is no one I know who would match me up with any of these celebs.

Now, I am going to upload a photo of B...let's see who comes up...

I am glad to see that B with a beard got at least one female celeb look-alike, considering I am being told that I resemble Eddie Murphy!!!

I suppose that it makes more sense now why the Canadian passport office is getting stricter about the dimensions and expressions for passport photos. The last time I had to get my passport renewed it was a bit of a pain...head size was specified to the mm and I had to have my mouth closed and keep my face expressionless. The result is a picture that I think doesn't really look like me, but apparently is more easily recognized as me by a computer.

Well, it's much past bedtime and I 'll be up early with the girls!!!
Good night, hope I made you smile!

Foreigners and Doctors

2007-01-18T01:48:00.000-08:00

What do foreigners and doctors have in common?

They both used to scare Parmesh. On Sunday he was telling us his story. And he finished telling us that he used to be so afraid of doctors that he wouldn't ever speak to them...then he sheepishly admitted that he used to feel the same way about foreigners!!!

The providential thing was we spent the day together on Saturday. We went with another family to go pinecone picking. Parmesh and five other young men joined us for a picnic and to gather pinecones and wood for heating. It was a chilly day, but fun to be out in the fresh air in the hills among the trees.

On the way the motorcycle two of the boys were on got a flat tire. They had to push it back...about 10 km. So we decided we should all just hop out at our house and rustle up some dinner. The ladies and I whipped up a simple meal and we all ate together, watched the new version of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and played cards. But I never realized that most of the boys had never visited a foreigners home...and never eaten a meal there.

Now, some people could not imagine the significance of sharing a meal with a foreigner...or eating a meal that a foreigner made. It wasn't until December that I became aware of my slot on the totem pole in this regard.

Just as school was ending we planned a dinner. We planned the meal so that it was proper ...no meat or eggs...that way all the neighbours would feel comfortable to come. Then we bought gifts for all the children, decorated and thought we had done all we could to welcome everyone. Imagine my disappointment when one older woman didn't come. I asked her son-in-law if she ws going to come. His answer was: She's a very traditional woman. HUH!

Later, I realized that it was likely that she thought it would be polluting to eat with us, particularly the food that I had prepared off plates that might have been defiled. My race and place was an unchangeable barrier to relationship with her.

Back to Parmesh...coming from a wealthy and respected family it's likely that he was taught this kind of attitude. And here he was sitting with us, eating with us and fellowshipping with us...little miracles!

Veggies as the Main Course

2007-01-16T05:24:00.001-08:00

I really love eating. That might seem like a funny statement. Like, of course, who wouldn't like to eat? I actually lived with a woman who didn't like to eat... It was hard to agree on meal protocol. Things like how much oil, salt, and time went into each dish and each meal became points of tension. Partly because I really wanted to make things that were tasty and she didn't really care if it was tasty...eating was just something you did because it needed to be done.

So now that I need to modify my eating habits, there has been certain challenges. One of the big ones has been how to keep B and the girls happy with meal time; while limiting the temptations that sat on the table. On that note, I hope to one day not be tempted by things I shouldn't eat since I just feel bad after eating them. One night during the holidays I felt so awful after both eating the wrong stuff and overeating...my tummy was so sore. At bedtime the girls all prayed that God would help me to not eat so much so my tummy wouldn't get so sore...sweet things!

These last few weeks I have been trying to assimilate all the information I could about creating a healthy diet. On a recent MacLean's magazine is a cover photo of a very skinny man. Inside are two stories about a lifestyle and diet called Calorie Restriction (CR). The idea is that you eat 20-30% less than needed to sustain your weight to keep you skinny and healthy with the aim of living a longer life. Then I was reading about the Eat-2-Live plan and the McDougall Plan. The more I read the more overwhelming it became. It was starting to feel like if I wanted to eat well to correct my cholesterol and high blood pressure it would consume my time and thoughts. My information junkie tendency was leading me into a mire of opinions, thoughts mixed with some facts. I don't want to have to download software to calculate the number of calories and nutrients each meal contains (like CR requires). I am not prepared to give up rice and more particularly peanut butter (like Eat-2-Live recommends). Peanut Butter is like comfort food for me... And the thought of giving up suger, flour and coffee (McDougall) feels a bit like giving up the remaining enjoyable food left. After all, I have already cut out egg, butter, dairy, red meat and chicken.

Finally, yesterday I gleaned all the information down to...Make veggies the central figure of the meal and everything will be okay.

Last night was the test run. We ate raw spinach, cucumbers and carrots with hummus and raita, and zucchini stuffed with rice. For dairy and extra calories the girls' half of the zucchini had cheese in it. I also made flat bread to eat with the hummus. Now tonight, B and I were trying how to make Moussaka safe for me. Eureka!! We made the sauce with soya granules soaked in veggie stock. Then I made the becamel sauce on the side so everyone else could ladle it on to their heart's content. So spinach salad with dressing on the side and vegetarian Moussaka with Becamel sauce on the side made a satisfying meal for everyone.

VOILA! I have a new eating philosophy...veggies get centre stage and my heart will be healthy. I must also add that my brain is happy too, less worry about details and more focus on the good stuff...eating without stress!!

Some Vacation Pics

2007-01-08T21:35:00.000-08:00

I just got an email from my good friend, K. She let me know that she has a blog with pics of family and friend. I so appreciated seeing all of her pictures that I thought I should really post some of ours. The biggest surprise with seeing people that you haven't seen in a while is that their children are all grown up compared to the mental picture you stored away. Since I expect we will meet up with all of you in six months or so I thought I better remember to post pics of the family so you will recognize the girls!!!!

This is the girls in the swimming pool at the big hotel we visited. It was so nice for them to be able to swim since there are no options up here on the hillside. That is one of the things I want the girls to be able to do when we get back to Canada; have swimming lessons.

B and the girls on Christmas morning in our wee hotel room. We all had something to unwrap; two days before, we ventured out to one of the big markets and bargained our way into gifts for everyone. Then we got together with the other folks who had come down for the Writer's Workshop (That was one of the reasons we were at the beach for the holidays. B joined up with this Writer's Workshop.) We sang some carols, shared and listened and had Christmas dinner of rice, chowmein, fish with broccoli, channa masala and for dessert, traditional fruit cake brought specially from England.

And here are P and I on the beach. At first P wasn't so happy with the ocean. She kept saying,"It's trying to get me!" But by the end of vacation, she was running into the waves with abandon; although only up to her belly button!

And she loves the sand; her favourite activity was smashing sand castles. She would stand by as B and I built something and eagerly ask, "Can I stomp it?"

Hopefully, we'll have some snow picture before the end of the month. Somehow winter break feels incomplete when there is no snow. The first few winters I was away from Canada I really missed the Winter Wonderland. So to get over homesickness I would look for National Geographic Specials on northern countries so I could see people in the snow!!! A couple of times I even got to see some snowmobile racing, very Northwestern Ontario. I hear there is a serious lack of snow this year, so I'll be praying for a snowy winter next year!!!

Two books and some thoughts

2007-01-07T00:38:00.000-08:00

While we were away in December, B joined up with a Writer's Workshop. While there we had the opportunity to meet the Guptara family, including the Twins, who recently had their first book published and launched.
I finished the book last night, and I must say that I thoroughly enjoyed it...it was a bit of Lord of the Rings, with a little Chronicles of Narnia, a sprinkle of Eragon with a suspense/conspiracy plot holding it all together. If you are looking for an easy, yet compelling read for the holidays; I recommend that you run out and buy a copy of this book...or you can order it on Amazon and never have to go looking for it. I am looking forward to the next book so that I can observe Bryn, one of the main charcters, coming to terms with his new-found abilities, and the choices that he'll be faced with.
The other thing that has challenged me in this book is how the boys were released by their parents to pursue their passion. Actually, Jyoti and Suresh are moving in separate directions in preparation for their futures. Jyoti was given permission by his parents to finish school at 16 in order to become a full-time novelist. Suresh on the other hand, is currently living in a different country, attending a school where he can prepare for the type of post-secondary education he wants.
The challenge to me, as a parent, has been a reminder to look at each of my children as separate being, with individual passions, abilities and calls. It is so easy to think of a one-size fits all approach to life. I see that there is an increasing global trend to try to put everyone through the same type of education, pushing them to the same paths for similar types of careers, and then marking success by similar standards.
On that note, I picked up another book to read last night. I was sad for the
Conspiracy of Calaspia to come to an end so early in the evening, so I wandered through the bookshelf looking for something new. Often, I re-read books that I find particularly compelling or enjoyable; however I was looking for a new books. Then my eyes settled on Dumbing Us Down by John Taylor Gatto.
This a collection of five pieces written by John Gatto, reflecting on what he has seen in his career as a teacher in a public school in the US. This was an interesting tag-on to the thoughts about releasing children to pursue their passions. His position is that the educational institutions are failing the children that they are supposed to be helping. His list of the seven lessons that are universally taught are: confusion, class position, indifference, emotional dependency, intellectual dependency, provisional self-esteem, and the reality of constant surveillance. To say the least, this is a disturbing list of lessons, and lessons that I know that I don't want my children to imbibe. That particular speech is concluded with the following statement by the author: School is a twelve-year jail sentence where bad habits are the only curriculum truly learned. I teach school and win awards doing it. I should know.
Suddenly, I realized that the concerns I was trying to express to M's teacher last year reflected the same concerns this teacher saw in the way education was being administered in the typical school. What a relief to have someone else express the same thoughts...maybe I wasn't being as unreasonable as I was being told that I was.
Even now as I think about the things I was told by some teachers, who in other contexts I really appreciate, I am shocked at their candor. One teacher told me that you can't believe what children tell you...meaning that the things M was saying were probably not true. And another teacher told me that it's good for children to learn that adults aren't nice and they need to get toughened up...meaning that M needs to tolerate unkind and disrespectful remarks from her teacher. As I think about these two remarks, I can clearly see that these two women and many others like them, simply have a different value system than I do. I do not ever want my children to feel like I will take an adult's word over their's simply because they are children. And I do not want my children to grow up feeling like they have to tolerate disrespect because the person being disrespectful is an authority figure. I know that I will have to guide them in appropriate ways to oppose an authority figure, but that is worth the effort to me rather than teaching them that they need to accept oppression as the way things are.
In some ways it is unfair for all of you to have to wade through my thoughts and opinions without being able to challenge and contradict me. So let me invite you to share some of your thoughts... I am looking forward to hearing from you!!!

Walking into Doors, Travel, Christmas and Other Things

2006-12-26T20:47:00.000-08:00

So, as you might have noticed I have been out of touch for a while. Let me try to give a brief chronology of the past few weeks.

As you might know, B's birthday was on the 7th of December. The sad thing was that he had to help escorting some students down the hill and left early that morning, at about 5am. Just before he left he told me that I should get my eye checked.

That brings me to the night before...busy evening, dinner and communion, with Brian working until about 11:30pm. And I was teaching the village workers that week as well. And school finished Wednesday that week. I am trying to explain what happened late on the 6th...I walked into a door. Not a little bump, oops I feel silly hope no one saw me, but a full fledged bash in the dark, ow that hurt, why is my forehead wet kind of bump.

B helped bandage my gash, just above my eyebrow...incidentally, he had to use Disney Princess Bandages that his mom brought for the girls since I didn't know where any regular ones were. And then he left with that little word of advice, get someone to check that...

To be perfectly honest, if he hadn't said anything I would have skipped it since I had some ladies coming over and had to teach that afternoon...

But I ended up with four stitches and a big bandage and being late for my session...argh!!!!

The worst part of it all is that you can't hide a wound like that...and the on going joke was that B smacked me a little harder than he should have. And then I had to sheepishly admit that I really did walk into a door...how dumb am I???

So then after surviving the weekend we left to meet B's parents in Delhi. Then we all flew to the beach. We spent nearly four days together before they had to rush back to catch their flight home. But the girls had so much fun playing with their grandparents and cousin in the ocean, collecting starfish and shells , and eating all kinds of exotic sea food, crab, calamari, snapper, shark...

I funniest thing was when R ordered a crab. It came on a plate, whole and intact. As I was helping her get the meat out, she turned to me and quietly said, "This is grossing me out a bit."

Now we have moved so that B can be part of a Writer's Workshop. At first I thought it was going to be a big headache...venues changed and the cost ranged from free to ridiculous... But it is turning out to be more of a blessing. We are staying in a very low budget hotel, the room is big enough for a double bed with some walking space, but fortunately after fitting six of us into that tight space for a couple of nights we were able to get a second room for the big girls. But the blessing is that they have made arrangements with a five-star hotel so that we can use their private beach and swimming pools!!!

So the big girls a nearly able to swim...there is no where for them to learn up on the hillside. And at the beach we are less of a spectacle since there are lots of other foreigners around. I must add that in the beginning the big girls felt shy being around so many foreigners!!! I think they are beginning to process what it will be like when we return home in the summer.

Well, I am off...

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! I will share more with you all in 2007!!!

...oh, for solitude...

2006-11-29T22:29:00.000-08:00

Last night B and I were watching a show called, "Planet Food." It's hosted by a rather annoying British woman, but I love learning about how food defines culture and heritage.

So this woman was traveling in Sweden and visiting different traditional and modern contexts where food is part of life. She visited this place way up north in Lapland, and stayed with a couple who raise Caribou. Their lifestyle was so appealing...they had to be self-sufficient in so many ways. It seemed to me that they also had to acknowledge sole responsibility for their life in terms of their productivity and fulfillment.

Earlier this week I hosted a journaling workshop run by a friend's mom from South Africa. It was a very fun time of exploring 'conversations with self'. But one thing that struck me was the idea of 'living life intentionally'.

Both of these experiences have culminated in my mind to challenge my view of the amount of control or perceived lack of control that I have in my own life. So often I drift through the days feeling subject to circumstances and expectations. And now, particularly as I look to the very open future I want to be able to seize my moments.

I know that those of you who are my peers will remember the movie Dead Poets Society and the refrain repeated ad naseum, Carpe Diem. But from where I stand I want to be able to seize my days...I know that they are numbered. And I know that I have tasks set before me to do in those days. And what I want is to finish well, being able to say without regrets that I did all that was set before me, that I was a faithful servant with the gifts I was given and the revelations I received.

And what does that mean for today...??? I'm not really sure. I am sure that I want to cultivate a fuller internal life. I am sure I want to be faithful to raise well the children I have been given. And I am sure I want to be a strong helper to the husband I have. But for the rest...

I suppose part of the appeal of a lifestyle of a homesteader is to have the space and solitude to hear that 'still, quiet voice' that speaks to each of us. I want to become more familiar with his voice so I can walk out my life with the confidence of heading heavenward.

I read a friend's post last night. It was lamenting the lack of encouragement from the Body to walk out life as each person feels called. I agree with so much she wrote. When we step out into 'weirdness' or make unconventional choices; more often then note you see that look on people's faces...The look that clearly communicates that your choice is not only one they would not make, but also possibly a wrong, sinful or dangerous choice.

Part of my thought with all of this is that I really want to live with the confidence that what I do, I do because it is what I am called to. And then that will give me the security to extend that grace to my brothers and sisters as they faithfully walk out the life they have been called to. But first I need to be in that place where I have the confidence of being led. And to have that confidence I need to cultivate my inner life. And to cultivate that inner life, I think maybe I need the solitude to strip away the inconsequential. But, then again maybe that's not what I need...

...a house fire?

2006-11-28T04:26:00.000-08:00

So I was just sitting down shucking peas...actually I was trying to decide if you shuck peas, hull peas or maybe depod peas. It is a tedious task. I now understand why women would gather together at harvest time to can things like peas. It is a genuinely mindless task!!!

Anyways, getting back to the title of the post. A week ago on Sunday at 4 am Brian jumped out of bed...I was a little slow to comprehend that our room was full of smoke. Since we heat with a woodstove, of sorts, that was our first thought...then B checked outside and I went into the kitchen. Well, off the kitchen is a little room that is just screened in; it's where we hang our clothes to dry and store wood, pinecones and coal for the fire. I could not believe the flames...nearly touching the ceiling, which is wooden. And in the midst of the flames was our gas canister, like the kind used in North American for barbeques. So, I turn on the taps in the kitchen and start filling pots; B grabs the canister and pulls it out of the fire...no explosion...but what a big mess!!! Water, soot, and debris in the side room and the kitchen. Then we stepped back and took a deep breath. Imagine a few more minutes and not six feet from where we were sleeping a gas canister explodes!!!

Of course, the girls slept through the whole thing. I went into their rooms and opened the windows just to make sure they would be alright. Then B noticed his hand...blisters on the back of each finger...guitar playing had to be put off for the week.

But now one week and a bit more, it is amazing to me how that potentially explosive incident gets swept away by the buzz of life. B's brother, nephew and parents are here to add to the fullness of life.

My in-laws brought 11 people with them to tour around the country for 5 weeks. They have been here since last Tuesday and head out tomorrow night for the remainder of their excursion. I showed them the Bazaar and my favourite shops. Then we had a tour of a village...it is one of my favourite places to be. This particular village is clean, has irrigation running through it as well as electricity. They have worked to preserve the old style wooden homes with carvings and decorative painting. And I think that most of the work can be attributed to one man with a vision. He left his home village and received a Bachelor's Degree from university and then returned to his home village. Ever since he has been working to improve the standard of living there. He facilitated the building of a government school; when the teachers' had sporadic attendance he facilitated a small private school with a nominal charge staffed by teachers who live in the village. Now, he is planning to build a small computer centre to teach computer skills to the youth. One man with vision is an astounding force.

This weekend we took the group to visit a pilgimmage site and then to a state park. It's nice to share what has become our home with people from home. The other thing I learned was watching initial responses. So much of life here is ordinary to us that we forget how unlike North America it can be. I can look at children and tell if they are beggars or not...some kids are just grubby. In my mind I have decided not to give money to children who should be in school or who are capable of working to try to discourage the lifestyle of begging. But when you come here and see how little so many have, and become so acutely aware of what you have; it is hard to resist a little grubby hand and pleading eyes.

Well, I am going back to my peas. We are making and mixed East-West meal tonight to help with the homesick, and I need to make some plain veggies.

Technology Problems!

2006-11-14T20:52:00.000-08:00

So our laptop screen decided to fade out...I tried rebooting and adjusting the brightness to no avail. So I am up at school in B's office trying to do a week's worth of correspondence. Instead of all that work, I decided to post!!!!

Someone asked about the things I was teaching so here's a little preview. Last week's teachings...each day took up about 10 pages typed. It's amazing how much information you can cover when you are basically lecturing for 2 hours at a time.

With marriage I started off putting forth the idea that our marriages, no matter where we come from, should all start looking similar because we all have the same goal. That our marriages should reflect a picture of spiritual truths. And as long as our marriages are not a good picture of the love and sacrifice they are intended to be...we are a poor testimony to that love displayed in the sacrifice of Jesus. I really feel like that should be our goal...that the mystery that Paul teaches should be realized in the relationship we have withour spouses. Anything less than that is less than the intended glory we should be walking in.

Then I shared the proverb about iron sharpening iron. I am totally convinced that I have been given the husband I have to spur me on the becoming a better me. And, if I can speak for him, I think I do the same for him. None of us stay the same in relationship and close relationships should be those that cause us to grow and change.

When I was thinking about who I might be without B...the picture that comes to mind is a funny, but sad one. I am sure I would be the absent-minded professor with chaos reigning in my house...old salami, a piece of moldy cheese and a bottle of wine in the fridge...and my clothes would be rumpled and mismatched...and I would never be anywhere on time!!!

The essence of who I am is still the same. But I am less absorbed with myself and my thoughts than I would be alone. I have also learned things from living with B...like not everyone can think in chaos...I think learning that people have different needs has helped me be less self-centred regarding how I live and the decisions I make.

The other important thing about marriage is that I am who I am because of what God asks me to be...not because of who I would be naturally, and not because of who B is. If we can get ahold of that I think it takes the pressure off each other because we are then not looking to our partner to be all that we need or expect.

And in the end I encouraged each couple to have another couple, who loves and undrstands them, to meet with to encourage and support each other. Essentially, I suppose I was trying to communicate that relationships were and are God's idea and creation, so we need to find his plan for them.

Well, B is back and needs his office...important meetings and all. I can't promise when I'll be posting again...hopefully sooner rather than later...

And they loved him...

2006-11-10T09:42:00.000-08:00

So I got through my three lessons this week. I don't think I have ever been so nervous as I was this week. I realized that I usually rely on interaction to help direct a session...well, with the language barrier interaction was very limited. But I must say the body language today was mush more encouraging than yesterday.

I taught on Marriage and Children... It was only as I sat to flesh out my thoughts that I realized how culturally grounded our ideas about marriage and children tend to be. And here I was from small town Canada trying to be relevant to villagers from farming communities. Argh!!! If I wasn't so sure that these were the things I should share I would have panicked and picked safer topics.

The blessing in the last two days was that the translator is a woman that I know fairly well. She is near my age and married with children. So she understood the things I was trying to share and was able to fill in details when she thought my words were unclear.

I realized that it's hard work to teach through a translator. It's difficult to keep your focus when you have to pause after each sentence. Both B and BG encouraged me to use the pauses to prepare my next thought. You might think this would be easy to do...well, it wasn't for me. On Thursday I found myself stopping and listening to the translator and then when it was my turn to talk I drew a blank Things worked much better today when I reminded myself that I didn't need to listen to her.

This is the time when my lack of language skills makes me feel inadequate. The most frustrating thing is that I generally know what is being talked about, but I can't formulate a coherent sentence. I can offer answers that are words strung together to form my thought, but my structure is very...free, shall we say? I peg myself as a toddler...high comprehension, low conversation ability.

But what I wanted to share when I started this post was that B shared tonight without a translator. He did a fantastic job. The team was so appreciative of his effort and affirming of his ability that is was a real encouraging time all around. It was great that he was able to share his story after one of the team members shared his. There were enough parallels to see that God works similarly all over the world.

B is out tonight playing music with some friends up at the top of the hill. He went from school, grabbed a cup of coffee and came to the training time, went back to school to take attendance for the school play, then he's off up to the top of the hill. So the girls and I watched...are you ready for this...TRADING SPACES. They each had a nice cup of hot chocolate with marshmellows(courtesy of my most recent visit home) and shared their opinions on the designs. It's so fun to hear their commentaries; they reveal so much about who they are...each one an individual.

...on an entirely different note I wanted to share my okra discovery. I don't know if many of you eat okra. If you are like me you probably had a bad okra experience and have stayed far away from it. My bad okra experience was with friends when we were at school in Minneapolis. They had cooked okra and fish together...it was really well cooked so that the okra was slippery. So imagine...fishy and slippery together...not very appealing. In fact I think my exact words were: "I have never tasted anything like it" as I quickly finished my serving with a smile.

But I now have a new way to eat okra that is a happy experience. First you was your okra to get any dirt off the outside...don't soak it, you are trying to avoid slippery okra. Then you chop it into pieces about 1cm wide...if you want to be fancy you could chop it on an angle. Then chop and onion...or two if they are small. Then heat up a frying pan... add a generous amount of oil. Thrown in the onions...then the okra...a bit of tumeric, salt and chilli...fry the whole mess until everything is nicely browned and serve hot with rice...add dal and yogurt to make a complete meal. YUM... By the way, do not add water or everything will get slippery.

I was going to download a pic for you all to see...but the cord for the camera seems to have gone for a walkabout. Things do that often around here, the usual suspect is P. She likes to pack up her bag or backpack and pretend to be going on a trip. These days she is often going to Canada with M.

Well, that concludes my Friday evening ramble...more soon...

And they all laughed...

2006-11-07T05:50:00.000-08:00

I was sharing today for the first time through a translator. I was so glad that the man translating is a friend of our family. It seemed to make it easier. Although, when he translated, "then we were married" and "I want to talk about my call to be a wife and a mother" everyone broke out into laughter.

But what struck me the most were the questions afterwards about my home country. The local people wanted to know what God my countrymen believe in. It was incomprehensible that they would not believe in something. So our friend tried to respond, but he has never been out of his country either. And then I stepped in and shared that most people would say that they believe that God exists, but then they live like He doesn't affect anything...well, that was so funny to them...they all roared with laughter.

I never thought about the disjoint of that sequence of belief. But the more I think about it, the more nonsensical it seems. If He exists then the sensible thing would be to find out what He wants...

So the lesson I learned today was that if I believe in God's existence then I better find out what He wants because He's much bigger than me and has a clearer perspective...

I have two more lessons to teach and I'll post the lessons I am learning.

Abraham and Sarah....

2006-11-04T01:01:00.000-08:00

It's Saturday afternoon here. B and I spent the better part of the day so far, cleaning and sorting and burning paper... We sorted out our guest room, which has been a collecting space in recent months. B's brother, K, is coming for a visit in two weeks; a few days later B's parents arrive. We are all excited to share our space with people who love us.

There is a sense of a place being home when you get to introduce it to loved ones. I think that has been something very special about having had visits from family and friends over the course of the last six years or so.

But when I start sorting and weighing the worth of a picture or piece of paperI get hit with waves of nostalgia. The 'remember when's' roll in and over my thoughts and I struggle to part with bits. The odd thing is that the bits are not big items, pieces of letters I saved, addresses I torn off envelopes intending to write people who blessed me, paintings of indescribable things done by wee ones, post cards I forgot to mail, photos (a whole box) from before we went digital.

I have to do this kind of purging in small steps. I often start of willing to toss it all and then become less effective as the hours pass. So some headway was made today; the progress was probably due to the fact that over a cup of coffee B and I started the day talking about the future.

More often then not the future is blank...really blank... As we looked back over the past ten years or so it becam very apparent that we could never have planned to be where we are at this moment. And we are happy to be here. But there is a very clear sense of it being time to end our current work. There are several ideas sitting in the wings for future work; however none of those ideas are anything we have the capacity to make happen. They are things we want to do, things that we have a passion for, but things that require resources outside of what we currently possess...

As we chatted, B reminded me of Abraham and Sarah. He said it's like leaving Ur. But we have already left Ur... and now it's time to leave Haran. That was Abraham's stop after Ur. But the rest of the story is about a couple who wandered until they died.

In fact, they were even buried on foreign soil. Now, that's an end we are happy to embrace. We have already decided that where we drop there we lie. Now I am mulling over the thought that where I will lie after death might be a place that I have never even seen yet.

So we are looking around trying to decide what do we sell, store, give, take... I know that the sooner we get these things sorted out the easier our last six months will be. But I was thinking of course our desire to return will be fulfilled in the near future... but B is right, we can't be sure. If the past is any indication of our future journey, then anything, anything at all is possible.

So we are looking at the future as if we are Abraham and Sarah...God will lead and we will follow. And I need to trust...

A bit more on cholesterol...

2006-11-03T02:16:00.000-08:00

As I sat picking bits of chicken out of my biryani last night I was so embarrassed. Given another viable option for reducing cholesterol, particularly the 'bad' LDL stuff I would most certainly chose otherwise... In the meantime, I need to accustom myself to the thought that my body seems to be very good at producing sufficient cholesterol. And so I need to not injest any extra cholesterol.

For me one of the most annoying things is that I fall in a weird category for cholesterol and high blood pressure problems. I am in the normal weight range for my height ( although at the heavy end), I don't eat very much processed food (mostly because it's not available), I don't smoke (so I can't quit, one of the most mentioned advices), and I am premenopausal (apparently after menopause is when the real problems for women start). All that to say it's difficult to find relevant information.

The reason I opted to not go on medication permanently is that statins, the usual cholesterol reducing medication, have not been tested in long term studies. The incidence of side effects seem to be low, but there have not been any studies on the long term effects. So considering I am 33 and if I live to a modest 73, that would put me on the medication for 40 years...I am hoping to delay my need for daily medication to avoid being a guinea pig!

However, I want to seriously entertain any suggestions. Since it's relatively easy to get my cholesterol checked every couple of months here; it's easier to experiment with changes and see what happens.

So my current agenda is: a vegan diet, lots of water, raw garlic daily, calcium supplements and flax seed oil.

There are two challenges with drinking enough water. The first is that all the water needs to be boiled, filtered or bought. And the second is that washroom facilities, for when you are out of the house, are either not available or ... I am just thinking of how to describe them...but let me include a picture.
This is a reasonable toilet on a train, near the beginning of a journey. The interesting thing I learned this summer, was that having washrooms in restaurants is a western convention. So as we travel in less westernized areas, we face the challenge of locating easy to use toilets, particularly for the girls and me. Good balance and carrying your own toilet paper(another western convention) are the needed resources!!