New Wordpress site

mariasinsidevoice.wordpress.com

Go to the above web-site to continue to read my posts... it's been awhile.

Moving Day

An otherwise successful moving day has rendered me without my computer, my passport and Nexus card missing, and other convenient items gone. All because three bags have gotten lost or stolen. A Hershel computer bag (with shoulder straps, blue on top and red with white stripes on the bottom), my backpack (a DC brand grey one with the blue zippers), and a Trader Joes grocery bag that says Arizona on it. It's all missing. Just gone. And now I have to replace it all.
I can’t seem to let this one go. I keep trying to retrace my steps and figure out where it could be. But, I think I have to accept its disappearance. It’s just stuff, not a person. I know where all my people are.
It’s important stuff. But not as important as people.

I won’t be writing here for a bit. So, take care of your people and make sure you watch that important stuff a little bit too.

Later.... until I get a computer and sort out my identity, I’ll be away 😉

A blog description

I just wrote a description for this blog. What a frustrating process. Blogger only allows 150 characters; actually it's 148, which meant I had to remove the commas. That was not easy for this teacher to let happen. But I kind of had to... so below is my original description.

A blog about Maria; a melding of her mental, emotional, and spiritual journey.

I write to express my feelings, but more than that... I write to process those feelings and what I think, putting the two together. My writing is a melding of the mental and the emotional. When I am speaking, I'm learning and understanding better what I think and sometimes even coming up with brand new ideas. In conversation, as I listen, I'm gaining new information from the emotions, ideas, and experiences of others. My writing is an extension of conversation. Conversation with myself, others, and with God. I'm a believer. I'm a follower of Jesus, the King of Kings. This means that not only does the conversation you read come from me and others in my life, but also the Holy Spirit. My voice in print is a blended outpouring of what I think, what I'm learning from others, and how Jesus is shaping me. It's a bit messy. I originally chose the title 'voice' from John the Baptist's response to who he was in John 1:23 "I am the voice of one calling in the wilderness, 'Make straight the way of the Lord.'" I am calling from my own wilderness so that I can be made straight. You'll find no judgement here. I post publicly so that if anyone can be comforted or learn something new as I journey through my wilderness, then nothing has been in vain. I post publicly to proclaim what Jesus has done and is doing for me and in me.

Now obviously, that is too long. So, I spent an hour of time that I don't have to reduce it to this;

What I’m thinking, feeling, learning. I am the voice of one calling in the wilderness. Comfort to you from my wilderness, what Jesus has done for me.

I had to remove those commas in the first sentence and the italics don't show up. Ridiculous. This is what you do when you're procrastinating. I'm going to have to move this whole blog to Wordpress and get an actual web-site. Urgh.

I should be packing. Move day is Saturday. I'll be posting an exciting tale of that adventure once I've recovered. I'm moving into a basement suite for the first time in over 25 years with just one of the three children. It's never boring around here. The oldest boy, still has no confirmed place to lay his head. Did I say we move in four days? Yeah.... Jesus knows what he's doing, he rose from the dead in less time. He's got this. I'm just going to keep saying that since my faith is waning.

Later folks. :)

A Toast to mom and dad – 50 Years of Married Bliss

My parents celebrated fifty years of marriage back in May of this year. They went on a cruise and we had a party for them this weekend. It was truly a wonderful afternoon. Everyone in attendance was either family by marriage or blood or adoption, or had known my parents for fifty years or more. We took so many pictures, talked and laughed and ate together. Here is the toast that my sisters and I gave them.

-Corinna-

Mom & Dad,

So many have been blessed by your love for each other; a love that is full, visible, authentic, and still filled with passion. In your marriage you have travelled together, supported each other’s work and passions, stood united as parents and grandparents, and folded in new additions to the family with words of wisdom, grace, and good food.

-Maria-

As your children, we’ve watched you learn about each other, only realizing the lessons we were learning as we got older, and sometimes too late. Your extended family has grown, not just because of biological grandchildren or marriage, but also because you continually allow others to enter in and be accepted as family. We have learned to have open arms for other sojourners because of your example; we are better for it, and our family is better for it.

-Julie-

Mom and dad, you have led us as Jesus has led you. Your devotion to his leading is evident to all and the love displayed in your marriage has its roots in the very love of God; you love because He first loved you. Fifty years of marriage is about commitment, compromises, growth, perseverance, and sacrifice. But it’s more than that, we celebrate today your fifty years of love.

-Maria-

Please raise a glass with us to our parents…

-all together-

Here’s to you mom & dad. The happiest lovers we know! Happy 50^th!!

C.S. Lewis Rules about Prayer

I've been getting the Biblegateway C.S. Lewis Daily quote for a few months now every morning. I am really enjoying it. I've always liked him as an author and read many of his books, my favourite being the Chronicles of Narnia and The Screwtape Letters. What I like about this service from Biblegateway, is I'm getting quotes and notes from him that I've never read before from compilations of his letters and thoughts. It's super cool. This one today seemed very appropriate as in the summer I get a bit lazy about devotional and prayer time.

TO DR. F MORGAN ROBERTS: On Lewis's own rules about prayer

31 July 1954

I am certainly unfit to advise anyone else on the devotional life. My own rules are (1) To make sure that, wherever else they may be placed, the main prayers should not be put 'last thing at night'. (2) To avoid introspection in prayer - I mean not to watch one's own mind to see if it is in the right frame, but always to turn the attention outwards to God. (3) Never, never to try to generate an emotion by will power. (4) To pray without words when I am able, but to fall back on words when tired or otherwise below par. Wit renewed thanks. Perhaps you will sometime pray for me?

Adulting Tips

I wrote some adulting tips for the final graduating class at Hope LCS this year. Five wonderful students who are set to hit the world on their own soon. I created a kit for them with a water bottle, grocery cart token, hand sanitizer, pack of tissues, tooth picks, gum, and a pen. I attached this little note as well. I thought they were all things they need as they head out there.

Love those kids and I wish them all the best. I sure hope to run into them over the next year.

1. Stay hydrated. Drink Water.

2. Get involved and get dirty. Wash your hands and sanitize to stay healthy.

3. Keep your teeth clean and your breathe fresh.

4. Bring tissue, because you never know when you’ll need to cry.

5. When you grocery shop, always get a cart.

6. Ask questions. It’s OK if you don’t know stuff.

7. Schedule your life. Use a calendar and follow routines.

8. Save your money and be generous.

9. Be vulnerable and love.

10. Choose Jesus. Always. First.

I think I even need to remember these things as I move into a new phase in life too.

Tips for great sex in your marriage

I wrote these for a couple of young ladies this past year that got married. I don't think its conclusive or even unique, its just my compilation. And... I like sharing this kind of stuff. It's nurse approved and tested out by me as well. LOL

1. Talk about it first. Talk about it after.

What are your expectations? What are his? Don’t put pressure on each other for it to be perfect that first time or that first week or ever really. You’ll figure it out. And it gets better every single time.

2. Serve each other.

Men are always going to come or orgasm. You are going to need to learn what you like and tell him, so you orgasm too. And it doesn’t matter who orgasms first, as long as you both do.

You can’t not talk about sex. Good communication includes communicating about sex.

3. Experiment.

Only with each other. Between you and him, it’s always OK.

4. Don’t fake it.

5. Don’t use sex as a tool to discipline your husband, and don’t listen to anyone who tells you to do so. 

6. Be clean.

Shower before. Shower after. Make this a routine and invest in a hand-held shower head. And I don’t know if you know this, but don’t use soap down there. Rinse with a lot of water. Being clean also means keep that pubic hair under control. Shave it, trim it, shape it; find out what you both like and do that. This applies to him too.

7. Always pee afterwards.

It is part of the cleaning process.

8. Keep a couple of small towels by the bed to clean up any messes.

9. Drink lots of water. Keep a water bottle by the bed (because glasses spill water all over the place when you knock them over). You need to be hydrated for multiple reasons.

10. Take vitamin C and drink cranberry juice. It helps to prevent UTI’s.

Ladybugs

I mentioned this in writing my post about 'Insiders on the Outside'. I couldn't let it go... so you get to hear the story of the ladybugs.

It was back in 2006 I think. I could be wrong. I had made some amazing friends over the previous two years while leading women's Bible study. One I met through the Alpha course and she started to come to the study I led at church afterwards. Another was introduced to me by the first while on the playground watching our kids at school. That relationship had a rocky start. She too, began to attend the Bible study and changed the dynamic we had there forever. She challenged me and grew my ability to lead in ways I hadn't known it needed. The third, followed the river one day because God told her to, and showed up at church, then at my study. She followed me to my car one day and said that I needed to mentor her. It turns out I had more to learn from her than she from me. She became the heart of us. We were a fierce group of four. Bonded in our faith and prayer, nothing could break our friendship. Cancer took my soulmate, mentor, friend, and the heart of our group in 2008, but this story is about what happened before.

The four of us had decided to head out together for a women's weekend to get away from our families and responsibilities. We had a place that one of us found through friends that was by the Fraser river in a small community east of civilization; only a couple of hours away by car. The house was meant for retreat and solitude, so we were pumped. We packed up games, crafts, food, and lots of wine, and headed out to our destination. Even the drive out was amazing as we watched the mountains rise higher, the houses disappear, and the trees press in. Once we arrived we surveyed the property and walked through the house. Going upstairs we started to lay claim to what bedroom would be ours. It was a big three story house with six bedrooms, three bathrooms, a beautiful deck, and a warm and inviting main room that connected to the kitchen. I picked a room at the end of the hallway and went to drop off my suitcase and settle in a bit before we started lunch. But I was met with a surprise; the room was filled with ladybugs! They were all over the window sill, climbing the walls, and flying around occasionally. Everyone came in to see the sight. None of us had ever seen anything like it before! There were only four bedrooms upstairs, with the other two on the bottom floor.

I wasn't happy. I know that ladybugs are supposed to be good luck, but hundreds of them was not manageable. I couldn't sleep in there. By the way, I don't believe in that stuff at all. Life is not random and crossing paths with something that may or may not be good luck will not change the outcome of anything in my life. Anyway, we didn't know what to do about all of them and we weren't really sure how they got in there, so we just closed the door. I was the youngest of the group, and they always liked to play on that. Laughing, they banished me to the basement. I felt like I was going to be all alone in a place where I wanted to be surrounded by them. But I didn't want to be difficult or stupid about it either. We were grown women, it was no big deal. Downstairs, I had my own bathroom, it was cooler at night, and the bed was bigger and more comfortable than the one upstairs. So, I left the ladybugs to themselves. The ladybugs relegating me to the basement bedroom alone shaped the rest of the weekend for me, in a good way.

The rest of our retreat, they called me the ladybug woman. It was cute. I took it. I got over not being upstairs with them too. My separate dwelling downstairs became a little private personal retreat. I was being awakened by songs in my head and singing them out loud without worrying that I was disturbing anyone, and I could stay in the bathroom as long as I wanted. I felt like retiring downstairs at the end of the day gave me a place to process the days events, go over things that we talked about, internalizing the words of wisdom, putting to memory the good humour, and pondering the feelings of comfort. This retreat was in the midst of my abusive first marriage and the alone time was something I had needed but didn't realize. I like to think that the ladybugs being in that room played a roll in my awakening that weekend. It's like they hung over the whole place. Ladybugs are known to be natural enemies of many bugs that can ruin a garden. It's as if that weekend, they protected us from that which may have ruined our time together, not just for me, but for all of us. They were the protectors in the room upstairs. It sounds silly when I know I don't believe in that stuff... but it's grown on me over the years as the ladybug references pop up in my life. That weekend solidified our friendship. We played games, made memory books, drank too much wine, danced, laughed, hiked, prayed together, cried, made special meals, and spoke the unspeakable. It was cathartic, uniting, and fights back at despair even to this day. This was the first of several retreats with the four of us. We had one last retreat together before our heart died in 2008, but we haven't done it again. The memory of them and their healing nature binds the three of us together and always will.

I truly became the ladybug woman that following Christmas when I received a ladybug tree ornament from the heart of the group. I get ladybug gifts occasionally; from students, sisters, friends... and I always remember how it began that weekend on the river. To me, those ladybugs taking my room are a part of that weekend and our friendship. I am the ladybug woman and I'll protect what we have for all time; my prayers always for their good. Ladybugs remind me that I have Jesus who is standing guard over my friendship with them, ensuring that we are constantly at peace with one another. It is a symbol of how I want to be open and vulnerable to others so that new relationships can flourish and be protected. It is a reminder of the past and a portent for the future. If you see a ladybug, remember that you have a God who wants to protect you from that which would ruin your garden, and remember that your friends need you to be a ladybug woman for them.

Insider on the Outside

I'm in Arizona for another day, then we're heading to Canada together, my hubby and I. It will be a whole month of living and life together, the longest we've had since we met. I'm on the inside now. I'm his wife. I belong with him, where ever he may be. He's on the inside too. He's my husband. He belongs where I am. We're on the inside, but there remains parts that are on the outside. When I'm at his house, it's still his house. In so many ways I don't belong here. It's going to be my home soon, but there is really nothing of me here. I put a ladybug magnet on the fridge a while back, that's my only mark on this place. A ladybug magnet. Ladybugs are kind of my thing, but not really by choice and I don't really collect them either. That's a whole other story. I'll have to tell you that one too. Another post... I'm trying to stay focused, and it's not working. I'll write that one next, maybe today.

I'm an insider on the outside with his friends, his church, and his kids. Our kids still see us as outsiders. They accept that we're married, but not that we have anything to do with them. I had originally thought that our life together was not going to be about them. Oh how wrong I was... recent events and difficulties with our kids have me realizing that our life will always be connected to them. We're both going to have to figure out our roles in each others children's lives. And all I can do is pray that it won't be too messy. It is nice to have a partner in the kid thing. They are forever, so it's good to know that I'm not alone... and neither is he.

I've spent a week with two of my step daughters and it's been one disappointment after another. That sounds pretty harsh, but it sure felt that way at times this week. They seem to have no interest in getting to know me. I'm a grown woman and I'm struggling to figure out how to connect. I'm supposed to be good at this. I was a youth worker for more than a decade, I've got my own children and their friends love me, I've been a teacher for nine years, I've been a coach for as long as I can remember, taught Sunday School, been a youth sponsor at church; teenagers like me. This is different. I have so much to lose with them. I don't want to mess it up. There is so much more at stake. I find myself second guessing what to do and say. I'm quiet. Yes. I'm quiet, when ordinarily I'd be talkative and loud and listening to music. I do let myself go sometimes with them, so they see who I am, but often, I don't feel like myself. I want them to feel that I'm not in their territory but that I'm here to be a resource, a friend, a part of their lives in support and with their dad. I want them to know that I'm with their dad and support his direction, his dreams, and his prayers for them. I'm just not sure I'm communicating that.

When I first met Gene, I started to pray for his children. I remember the prayers I prayed for his oldest daughter. I felt so drawn to pray for her. I would write out prayers for her and felt called to be a part of her life. I have prayed for his son. He's lost, and angry, and has shut out his dad... they have both shut each other out. So much about that I don't understand. I still haven't met him, I long to meet him. I pray that I can somehow be a bridge between them, soften the anger between them, smooth the past wrongs, and open a new door for them both. I am constantly praying for salvation, that all our children would know Jesus. My prayers recently for his two youngest daughters have been more intense. I'm asking that they would open their hearts to me, that I would open up to them and understand what I need to do and say. My constant absence makes every meeting I have with them feel weighted down with unnecessary tension that I do not respond well to. I beat myself up for missed opportunities and a lack of courage to speak. I am constantly in a state of regret it seems when it comes to my step children. Where I barge in and speak with authority into my own children's lives, I am incapable of doing with his. Maybe that is how it is supposed to be. They aren't mine. They are his. That chasm may always be there. I don't know what to make of it.

But then, on their last day with us, some drama helped God break through and give me the opportunity I needed. I was able to step up, take charge, comfort, and speak wise words. I cried with them both. Hugged and prayed. It was a good thing hidden within the drama of the day. I'm thankful for the unexpected that gave this outsider a taste of the inside with them. Now I long for it more. I can't wait for more. Tears... rolling down my face as I realize how much love for them I have. My three children back in Canada, their place in my heart and mind will never be eclipsed. I didn't know I had more room in there. Praise Jesus, he's making my heart grow bigger. I love my kids.... all seven of them. On the inside, I'm not an outsider at all.

Kids are Forever

I'm away on vacation. I'm relaxed... although not sleeping that well, I sleep long. I'm reading a book, taking walks, stretching, drinking, going to the pool, watching movies, and eating good food. I'm having sex every single day. That is a big deal. Long distance marriage, that doesn't usually happen. Anyway... I won't focus on that. :)
I'm getting lots of rest as I'm not doing much, and so I'm getting a bit bored.

I'm on vacation, I'm 1930 kilometers away, but my kids still send me messages. I find out about the decisions they're making. I'm asked for help about various things. I'm told about how they have lost work, can't find a place to live, went on a date, and how they just had a really bad fight. I'm their mom, this will go on forever. And you know, I do love it and I do love them.

Let me put the boredom in perspective. I need this rest. I need to be away so that the ever present mothering can have some kind of break. So, suck it up and find stuff to do, or just be bored. Boredom can spark creativity. I don't need to go back to the children just yet, they have a way of finding me anyway.

For those of you who don't have children, mine are 24, 20, and 17. I know from my own relationship with my parents, the connection will go on forever. It is the way it is. If you don't have children and you don't want that, don't have children. You are forever a parent. To your own children, to your children's friends, to your children's children, and now I'm even a parent to my husbands children. His are 26, 24, 17, and 14. That's a lot of children. I need to start calling his and mine, ours. It's still in transition. I'll get there.

This isn't my own thought, so I'll give credit where it's due.

Kids are forever. ~ Rachel Hammer

The Woods Between The Worlds

I am living a life that is in transit. I move back and forth between lives it seems. I have moved from the first half of life, onto the second, and I’m transitioning to the third.

The first half of life has seemingly gone far away. I moved from a wonderful childhood and tremendously hopeful youth, to a disappointing young adult, and into a difficult marriage. I had joys and sorrows along that road which are still apart of me now. I am glad that I have memories that are untainted by abuse and that the good relationships in my life have remained. God was good to me even when I was not following, when I was in a difficult place, and when he led me onto the next chapter.

This second chapter in my life is set in my old, familiar environment yet has new relationships, routines, and accessories. Born out of divorce, it has been difficult, healing, and fun. I have had new freedoms, experiences, and responsibilities along the way. I’m glad for the vision of my future that God placed there when it all began. He called me out in order to go; to go and be used. I knew that Jesus wanted me to go find a new place to spread my wings and set up roots, to start over. I didn’t know how it would look, where I would go, or what I would do, but I knew I would be going. While still in this second chapter, God has been able to use me despite my lack of focus and direction. There has been a lot of frivolous activity in these past few years. I’m so happy that God has used me where I am with my children, my co-workers, friends, family, and students. And they have all richly poured so much love and support into my life. That vision to go is now taking shape beyond this second chapter.

The third chapter in my life is set in the future, complete with an unfamiliar setting, new friends waiting to be made, new routines to set in motion, some exciting new thrills, and challenges that I know I'm not ready for. This is that which I have been moving toward and preparing for; it is the beginning of the call to go to a new place. But I find myself in a state of flux because I stand with one foot in chapter two, and one in chapter three. My future is here, but not yet. I cannot be fully in the new place, and I feel like it puts a strain on both places that I am in.

Have you read The Magicians Nephew by C.S. Lewis? Well, you should. It's the best book in the Chronicles of Narnia series. In the book, Lewis describes a wood between the many worlds that exist out there. The wood has small ponds that go on and on and on. It is a quiet place that has no sense of time and where nothing ever happens. It's important to not get stuck there. By jumping into a pond, you enter a different world. I have to say, that going from chapter two to chapter three over and over again, makes the wood seem like it would be a great place to take a rest. Sometimes, my interludes with my husband are like that; we escape from his world and mine, our kids and jobs, and the worries are left behind. That place, wherever it ends up being, is like the wood between the worlds. But, we can't stay there. We would get too sleepy and relaxed which would mean we were unable to meet the challenges of the worlds we both must choose to jump back into. And so, we arouse from the rest and choose a pond. Sometimes he jumps into my pond, chapter two. Sometimes, I jump into his pond, chapter three. We have one more year of standing on the border, of going into the wood and jumping into the chapter two pond, coming out again into the wood, and jumping into the chapter three pond. Sometimes we each jump into our separate ponds. The distance at times feels like he's a world away from me. I imagine that when our life living together begins, we will jump into a completely different pond. Not my pond or his pond, but our pond. That's when chapter three will really begin. Or maybe it will be chapter four. Wow... I like that better. A whole new world, a new pond; chapter four.

Currently, I've just left the wood between the worlds and we are spending some time in the chapter three pond. It's pretty good. His pond is slow paced, quiet, and warm. Can't wait to shake this place up. Yeah, we're gonna need a whole new pond.

One more year.

eBook - A Diary of Sorts

Well, I did it.

I put my blog posts out there in an ebook. Kindle eBook.

Wow. It will be available in 72 hours...

I guess we'll see if anyone reads it. LOL

This is crazy. And Exciting.

Now I have to start posting some thoughts on the weekly, at least. I think I'll start with simple stuff that I think about every morning.

Spread the news. Now you can read what's on my mind.

One Year Married

One Year Married

you+me=one

you+me+jesus=unstoppable

I’ve been writing this for more than a month. I’ve added and changed things and thought about not writing it. But I must write. It is what I do.

Very early on in our communication over the phone and through text, Gene sent me this ‘phrase’ to describe us; you+me=one. We have both used it ever since. It’s on our wedding photo album and I sometimes sign off that way when saying goodbye. It’s our own personal hashtag; I know it doesn’t work because of the symbols, but I put it on my posts anyway. Gene then added the second ‘phrase’, you+me+jesus=unstoppable. As we face challenges this is going to be our moto. My partner, not my enemy, in the stuff that lies ahead.

Its been one year of married life. I’m sharing what I wrote for Gene, but only in part. I must save some things just for him.

It’s been a wonderful,

and lonely,

and exciting,

and difficult,

and sensual,

and revealing

first year of marriage.

I have grown to love my husband more than I did last year, and I miss him more and more when we are part.

I’m so glad we married a year ago on that beach in Cancun. How the plan came together was truly amazing. In the midst of doubts in the timing, God provided a way for us to commit to each other in a beautiful setting. Gene created a very memorable and wonderful wedding and honeymoon for me; I still feel blessed by him because of it. It was an amazing way to start our journey together! I feel like every sentence I just wrote should end in an exclamation point! But that would be silly. 😊

The sacrifice of living apart has been much harder than we thought. The weight of the burden of our long-distance marriage is heavier than we imagined. When a simple touch, kiss or hug would do the trick, we cannot rely on that. Our difficult conversations can’t end in the cleansing and healing of making love. Thankfully, it does have its up side. The excitement of our meetings and the adventures that we plan along the way, would not be there if we lived together.

God has been faithful in walking with us through this first year with answered prayers, financial provision, friendships and family relationships that are growing stronger, and our hearts and minds becoming one in vision and meeting each other’s needs. There are growing pains that don’t feel so good sometimes that can remind us of our past and cause inner turmoil. I have at times allowed fear to enter my mind about the future. Even in this, God is faithful! I am learning to trust Him and follow his leading in what I should talk about, what I can do to change, and what I should simply release into His hands. I’m thankful for my husband’s patience, new perspectives, and love. He has spoiled me in so many ways... I’m not worthy and can never repay him for all he’s done and is doing. Yet, he doesn’t hold that over my head and expects nothing in return.

On our wedding day, I gave Gene these verses from the Song of Songs 2:11-13;

 See! The winter is past;

    the rains are over and gone.

 Flowers appear on the earth;

    the season of singing has come,

the cooing of doves

    is heard in our land.

 The fig tree forms its early fruit;

    the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.

Arise, come, my darling;

    my beautiful one, come with me.”

To me, this describes our beginning. The winter of our lives, where our future lay dormant, developing in the refiner’s fire as He used our experiences, mistakes, and triumphs to shape us for each other, has past. The description of the blossoming of what is new is complete with all the senses; it reminds me that in each other we have a complete emotional, spiritual, physical, and mental connection. The call to ‘come with me’ at the end is Gene’s proposal to me! It’s a call from me to him as well; come with me into the future not knowing where we may go! As long as we go together, we will be blossoming, and winter will not come again.

I feel wiser this year and know that the seasons of our relationship may include times of refining. Even now, God is using our circumstances to grow us individually and as a couple. There is a part of me that doesn’t want this season to end. It is young and impulsive, fun and sexual, exciting and new, adventurous and fresh; I am enraptured by him, and I don’t want that to be stolen from me. It seems easy to be his wife. Yet, I don’t want to be complacent. I know that marriage is not easy and requires my care and attention. The hard work has already started, and it will take our whole lives and our greatest efforts at times to keep the flame burning between us.

This first year of marriage I have soaked up Gene’s attention and affection. I have leaned into how he spoils me, his words of adoration, and all that he does for me. I can’t seem to get enough. When I’m not with him, he fills me up with messages and gifts. I’ve never been treated so well. Going into our second year of marriage, I committed to studying him the way that he has me. That I would learn and internalize his rhythms and patterns, his likes and dislikes, his struggles and flaws, how he thinks and what he needs to function well. I committed to putting him first, before myself. I am fearful of admitting that I struggle with this; and even a little fearful of submitting to my marriage in this way. I will become more vulnerable, more exposed. The reward of increased intimacy and trust is what I strive for. I must not be terrified even of this. I pray, and I know he will, continue to be kind and gracious to me.

In our second year of marriage I gave my husband these verses from Song of Songs (2:16-17). It seems I’m stuck in the imagery of this book…

My beloved is mine and I am his;
    he browses among the lilies.
Until the day breaks
    and the shadows flee,
turn, my beloved,
    and be like a gazelle
or like a young stag
    on the rugged hills.

Our vows have been made and we belong to each other. In the Message translation of this text, it says ‘… nightly he strolls in our garden… delighting in the flowers.’ Although this has a definite sexual meaning, I think of our morning and evening video calls where we read the Bible together, talk, and pray, as well as the times that we walk together at the end of a day. Our garden isn’t bound by a place, it isn’t at a fixed address, it is where we are together; even if only through technology. Our delight in the flowers describes how we are both completely full of wonder for one another. The day is breaking, and the shadows of our past are fleeing one by one. The ESV says that the ‘day breathes’. I imagine that breathe is the day we are finally living together, united in space and time, and our garden finally finds a physical home base. But until that time, we must be like a gazelle and a young stag; we must continue to travel and conquer the hills, the challenges, that are a part of our long-distance marriage.

There is a song by Needtobreathe that I’ve had on repeat for a while and it reminds me of us… I’m so glad that we talk. We talk about everything. Our communication is the key to our intimacy; it really is. So… (I changed the words a little because it talks about a baby crying… which is not in our future together, or our past).

Darling, won't you talk with me

For a little while?

We ain't got nowhere to be

Oh and I've come so many miles

Darlin', won't you talk with me

For a little while?

Or at least until we close our eyes

Or we both fall asleep

Oh I've been gone for so long

I'm tired of seeing these things on my own

I don't wanna do this alone

I don't need New York or Paris or Rome

I don't wanna be on these screens

I don't care about all these places or things

I just wanna be there with you

The only thing that carries me through

Oh and I know it's hard to be home

Tryin' to take care of a house on your own

I know that I'm supposed to be gone

Well maybe that's true, but it feels like it's wrong

Oh, I spend all these nights alone

With friends and family that I've always known

I just wanna be there with you

The only one that carries me through.

My Abuse Story

In honour of International Women's Day, I'm posting my abuse story. That may seem odd, but I want to help women to be safe emotionally, spiritually, financially, and physically. Maybe my story can help someone else face their truth.

My abuse story is unique, just like they all are; but as always, we find similarities in the details. If I were to describe how I became involved in an abusive relationship, I would say it was because of undue care and attention.

I met and married my first husband in the span of one year at the age of 20. By the end of my twenty second year, I had a child and a one-year old marriage. I was pregnant before the wedding which was doubly problematic due to my faith. As a couple, we never had a chance to learn to be together without the distraction, stress, and responsibility of family. I didn’t go into my marriage thinking it was perfect or even that my ex-husband was perfect; I knew he wasn’t, I knew I wasn’t. I knew that we had some huge challenges and that we had much work ahead of us. I was also young and confident, thinking that I could conquer any challenge in front of me. However, I believed we were both thinking and managing ourselves under the same set of values and assumptions. It took me about a decade to realize we weren’t, and another eight years to finally understand what was happening to me and my children.

Abusive personalities have completely different reference points from those who are not abusive. I was trying to find connection, ways to work together, to help and support, and to find common ground with my ex-husband. He, however, saw all my efforts as a threat. As I sought to connect, he responded with suspicion thinking I wanted something in return. As I tried to work with him, he saw me trying to take over and control. As I sought to help and support him, he competed with me to be better and to win. And as I searched for common ground, he argued his point wanting to be right. Any move to improve my education level, work experience, knowledge, and social connections was met with anger, resentment, and a negative competitiveness that endeavoured to push me down. Our arguments were explosive and instead of things getting better over time, they eroded further and further. I came into the marriage thinking that all our flaws would improve; that age and maturity would take over. I thought that that was how people work; we grow and mature and our imperfections become less abrasive. My faith in Jesus also pointed to that way of thinking. Growing and maturing in Christ meant that my sinful nature would become less evident and my behaviour would reflect Jesus more and more. But it’s not that simple. I didn’t realize that an abusive person’s reference point is themselves; not Jesus and certainly not others. I don’t think my ex-husband even understands himself in this way. Growing and maturing is actually a choice and requires work, acknowledging your shortcomings, repenting, changing bad behaviours, and seeking to show love even when you don’t feel like it. It doesn’t just happen because you get older.

The slow progression of abuse covered almost all facets. Emotional, mental, and verbal abuse were a common every day experience. My ex-husband was an emotional abuser who was willing to use any avenue to maintain control and get what he wanted. Physical violence or threats; verbal attacks; sexual abuse through withholding, porn use, and eventually affairs; financial carelessness and blame; cultural excuses; and even spiritual attacks and abuses. When I look back, I ignored red flags prior to the marriage because I didn’t recognize them as such. I had also made myself complicit in the problem. Where I see the most evidence of this is in the physical abuse. I was a very confident and somewhat arrogant young lady. I could get angry and use force just as much as my ex-husband, which made it easy for him to blame me for arguments that got out of control. If he used physical force early in our relationship (even before the marriage), I defended myself and it became a physical fight. I did not shy away from this for the first 8 years of the marriage. Because of this, he was able to shift blame on me. I was confused, thinking that if I had not reacted, he wouldn’t have choked me or held me down. It’s so ridiculous when I think about it now. The physical violence also only erupted once or twice a year. And it was often expressed through inanimate objects; sometimes he threw things at walls, punched holes in doors, or just yelled threats, coming into my personal space, or barring me from leaving a room without actually touching me. It was easy for him to justify all this and I convinced myself that I could handle it and was partly to blame. As time went on, anger was a scary emotion. I couldn’t express it, the kids couldn’t express it, and no one could respond to his anger as it was dangerous ground; there was no telling what action would be taken. After an angry reaction to my crying eight-month-old daughter while I was at work, left a hole in her bedroom door, I left for the first time. My return ten days later was not a good idea, I see that now. But I thought I was doing the right thing. Coming clean before my family and church, I figured we had the support we needed. It wasn’t enough, and it wasn’t taken seriously enough by anyone, including me.

It was after the birth of my third child that I realized how dangerous my ex-husband had become. An emergency C-section saw our son come into the world six weeks early. A partial placenta abruption placed me and my unborn child in a life or death situation, and our family was thrown into turmoil. The stress of the birth of a new baby is a lot for any family and couple; add a near death experience, a two-week hospital stay, and an unstable abusive marriage relationship, and you’ve got a full on disaster. My ex-husband went on full attack mode. He saw all my crazy mother-bear responses to restore my family to normal as an attack on him. My attempts to get to the hospital and see my son as often as possible were met with violent refusals and accusations that I was keeping him from seeing his child. He physically and emotionally came at me when I was weak and unable to respond and defend myself. After this period, I never physically defended myself again. I changed how I responded to his yelling, threats, and name calling. I got very quiet. I rose up a few times and did try to remain myself, but I retreated and tried to appease more than anything else. There were ebbs and flows in the cycle of abuse over the years after. There are good memories in there and I found happiness in caring for my family. The tension increased, and the violence was never completely gone, but I handled it differently. There were times that I thought it was gone for good and that it wasn’t a part of us anymore, but then I would be side swiped by an incident that came out of nowhere. It was never the same thing either; every type of abuse was coming at me and I was just underneath it all, increasingly confused by my relationship. I didn’t understand the cycle at the time. My ex-husband and I were in counselling for thirteen years or more and abuse was never addressed until the end. It wasn’t until my youngest was seven years old that I began to understand and make moves to change my situation. And it wasn’t until he was twelve that I was finally fully awakened, understanding what was happening, and then able to leave.

Be patient with those who are in relationships that are abusive. It takes time to see what is happening and to have the courage to act and to believe that you can do something about it. Abuse in my story was insidious. The longer you live with it, the more normal it becomes. I had normalized it and taken pains to hide it from even my closest friends and family. I’m thankful for those in my life who patiently supported me through it all. What kept me invested in the marriage was threefold; my faith, my sexual attraction to my ex, and fear. I loved my ex-husband and it was hard to face that I was afraid of him and that he was intentionally hurting me. I was afraid of a lot of things; losing my children, financial disaster, embarrassment from divorce, and everyone knowing what I had allowed to happen to me.

As my children got older, maintaining the perfect environment to keep the abuse cycle under my control (like that’s possible!) became increasingly difficult. The abuse that I had thought I could contain, was not contained and what I thought was not affecting my children, was affecting them. There were a few times that Social Services got involved which I carefully handled. I worried that their involvement would only complicate my life. My ex would often talk about how others getting involved would cause us to lose our children for no good reason. Our home was never even investigated beyond a phone call interview (and only once with my ex), as I was seen as a ‘protective parent’. As my children got older, I became restless as well. I didn’t want to stay home anymore; working with my ex-husband in his business was intolerable and exacerbated the abuse. I didn’t want to return to working evenings as that would see me completely unable to be involved in my children’s activities. I saw a need to work and grow in my life. It was this pressure that started to move me out of my complacency about my marriage. What followed from my restlessness and the growth of the children were a few of the worst years ever. I went back to school and he saw this as a threat to our life, fearing I was preparing to escape. He wouldn’t pay for my education, even though I had been at home with our children for eight years and helped him with his own business for a decade. He was violent and unpredictable.  In the last semester of my one-year course, he beat up our eldest son while I was away with an outdoor education course. I came home and told him he had to leave, or I was calling the police. We separated for restorative purposes with the support of counselors, our Bible study group, our Pastor, families, friends, and an anger management course. I thought we had set up a good support system and felt convinced it would all work this time. After forty days, I asked him to come home. But again, it wasn’t enough. Within six months of his return, we both knew it was a mistake. He threatened me and said he would never leave our home again.

It was this period that led to the end. Three years later, we would separate for good. Interestingly, the last three years were not as bad as so many before that. I had decided that I just wanted to get along. I knew I was in an abusive relationship. I knew that being in counselling with him was dangerous for me emotionally and maybe even physically, so I refused to go with him anymore. In many ways, I was managing the abuse cycle the best I ever had. I went to some counselling on my own to learn how to deal with his anger and our conflicts. I started to cognitively disassociate myself from him, emotionally disconnect, create greater spiritual independence, and physically and sexually I set boundaries to protect myself. As I closed down the avenues for my ex-husband to abuse me, he began to spiral. He tried to get my attention by creating conflict every where he could, but I barely responded. The marriage lasted twenty years and seven months. In the last two months, I discovered that he was having an affair. I waited for the right moment and enough evidence, and then I confronted him with what I knew. He was caught and later owned up to one other affair, although I believe there may have been at least one other. He blamed me for his indiscretions; I was cold and didn’t love him. That was true, I was cold, and I didn’t love him, but that only explained the last affair. I remember when I would pray for Jesus to give me the love and understanding I needed to be his wife, and for many years I believe He did. But God had slowly taken all that love away. After all I had experienced, I could not love him in my own strength. God used my hard, cold, calculating heart to bring an end to my abuse. There were difficulties to follow; which included getting him out of the house a week later with the help of the police, and a legal battle that left me feeling abused and in debt. It took over two years to finalize my divorce.

In the five years since this all began a lot has changed. I have healed, remarried a wonderful man, and my children are beginning to come to terms with their past. I sometimes look back and wish I could change how I did some things. I struggled to forgive my ex during the legal battle as it seemed that it was a constant open wound. With the divorce final, I have been able to stand on solid forgiveness ground. Reconciliation with his family was something I once thought I wanted, but have realized through this process, that it is not necessary nor advised in my situation.  There are still scars in my psyche that haunt me at times, but God is good, and I have found a new life and a new love. He will restore to me the years that the locust has eaten. 

When I consider that I became involved in an abusive relationship because of undue care and attention, it is important to warn against that in other women. We are so accommodating. We want to give men every opportunity to do the right thing, to correct the mistake, to rise to the occasion, and to be the wonderful man we think we see deep inside them. This compassionate way of dealing with others is not wrong, nor should we squelch it. Woman need to recognize when that very nature is being used against them. We don’t have to be so accommodating to people that hurt us. You don’t have to be perfect and pure as the driven snow to be treated properly. Yes, you’ve made mistakes and sinned greatly at times, but don’t let anyone, including yourself, use that to say you deserve abuse. If a friend, or my daughter, or any other woman, shares with me about a troubling incident between her and a man she loves, it is important to listen for what is not being said. Are they trying to normalize bad behaviour? Is there fear hidden in the story? Are there details conveniently being covered up or added to try and fit a stereotype of men? Are they blaming themselves for his actions? Another thing to remember is that most likely, when a woman shares incidents of this nature, it isn’t the first time something like it has occurred within that relationship. I have often said to my daughter, ‘that isn’t going away’. When she shares about the way a boy is acting or something he did that bothers her, and then she explains that he argues or justifies his behaviour, I just say, ‘that isn’t going away’. Those things are red flags and they will not go away. You know what they are when you experience them, so take care and pay attention. Unfortunately, what I’ve learned is that people don’t change, and abusive people really don’t change. If they change to please you, it will only be temporary. Motivation to change must come from within and from Jesus. I believe it takes Holy Spirit, supernatural power to change people. We must decide that if we don’t like something someone is doing around us or to us, we don’t have to put up with it. If we explain that it bothers us, and that person doesn’t care enough to change or doesn’t think they’re doing something wrong, then don’t emotionally attach yourself to that person. This is hard, but if it’s done right away at the beginning, if we take care and pay attention, then we don’t have to become intertwined with someone who hurts us. Remember, it’s never too late to leave an abusive relationship. Don’t blame yourself for where you’ve ended up. Find some support and create a plan to remove yourself from harm so that you can make good decisions about the future in an emotionally and physically safe place.

I don’t know much about men, but what I do know is men need to take care of themselves. Even if you treat women well, if you have emotional demons, anxiety, anger, spiritual troubles, even mental or physical health issues, take care of them. Seek to do what you can to be healthy in all ways so that you can be free to treat others well. Relationships are there to give us someone to depend on and support in a mutual way. This is good and healthy. But an unhealthy man who expects a compassionate woman to carry all his baggage, will exhaust and use her until she has nothing left. This amounts to abuse in my opinion. And you can say the same for an unhealthy woman who dumps all her baggage on a man. Jesus is the only ‘person’ that can carry all your baggage, so give it to him.

This is my story, and when I tell it, I have to tell about Jesus. There is hope that never let go of me. He loved me through it, in it, and out of it. There is victory over the enemy in my life, in more ways than I can count. He gave me freedom from my sin and from my abuser. Praise his wonderful name! JESUS!

Moment to Moment

I'm not in a good mood and I’ve had a bottle of wine, so I shouldn't write. I'm probably going to end up saying things that I wouldn't necessarily want put out there for all eternity. But I can't help myself as I really feel like I have had way too much bottled up over the past couple of months, and what's life without a little risk. I have not written in a while due to the feeling I've had lately that I should censor what I say. I've had a lot of frustration with little resolution to any of it. I ask myself, if my husband would be alright with what I've said? I don't know what to do with that question. Just using the word husband used to invoke negativity and now it cannot, it does not, and it never should have. I am trying to reclaim the word ‘husband’ in this new chapter in life; so that it only refers to the present and carries no thoughts of the past. GSJr. is my husband, and he deserves that title. He has my upmost respect and all my love. In writing my blog, there is a delicate balance of being myself, being respectful of who GSJr. is, and what he is comfortable revealing, that I am attempting to discover. I have to accept that I will make mistakes. I am GSJr.’s wife and much of what I say will include his truth that he may not want out there. I represent both of us, so the things I say others may think he thinks. And this goes both ways. He represents me; what he says and believes reflects me too. I am going to have to revisit that in another post.

It’s the morning after I wrote what comes below... but I’ve edited it and now feel more comfortable with what I have to say. It’s not all positive, but it is where my current thoughts are sitting.

I was unhappy last night because I missed talking to my husband on the phone. We are currently on different time zones. He's only an hour ahead of me, but it does cause some issues with sleeping and waking schedules. I missed him as he went to bed early to wake up early. I knew he was going to bed early, but I went out due to a kid issue and wanting more wine. It seems petty and like I'm choosing to not be available over trivial matters, but life with the distance between us is like this on a regular basis. And tonight, I'm pretty pissed about it. OK, I'll sound less vulgar... I'm upset about it. I went out because my daughter was reacting to a situation out of PMS’ing and I hate when women do that. She was supposed to go with her brother to buy a few things from the store including wine and beer, but ended up refusing because she thought he wasn’t appreciative of her work shoveling the car out of the snow. Just so stupid. So I went with my son to prove that women don’t behave like that. It was silly now that I look back, and it caused me to miss talking to my husband before he went to sleep. Stupid dumb. I have to learn that I cannot fix my grown children.

My husband and I have lives that go on without each other; schedules that run separately; children that need our attention and there's no telling when issues may arise with that; jobs that place demands on our time and focus; family and social events that take our time; and yet we are trying to keep a daily schedule of phone and video calls. We have separate everything. My home, my friends, my church, my money, my debt, my spending habits; his home, his friends, his church, his money, his abundance, his spending habits. Wow, that got cynical real quick. I seriously just absolutely hate all this. Sometimes, I don't want to talk to him at all because it's just a reminder that we are in the situation we're in. I know I chose it, and I'm glad I did. But living it isn't easy. I hate to admit, that I still don't know how this is all going to work out and I get frustrated and scared. Other times, I just want to leave and be there with him, forget that anything about my life here even exists.

I remember in my old life, wanting to escape and be someone else, just disappear; at times, I get that similar feeling about wanting to go now. Wanting to be someone else is not healthy at all, however, which is why I never did it. It has been much harder having to face down my issues, get divorced, handle the emotional and financial aftermath, and be there for my children. I never used to want to admit that I had thought about just picking up and walking away from my life. I felt like the worst human being ever for even imagining leaving my children and walking away. I've realized now, in my healing, that part of the reason those thoughts were even there was because I was so distressed and felt no way out of my situation. I'm glad I never made those decisions and that Jesus gave me the strength to carry on and walked with me. Besides, I don't want to be someone else, I just want to be somewhere else, and I do believe that God is calling me to that. Even now, staying here and making the changes slowly, methodically, painfully at times, joyfully at others, and preparing myself, my family, and even my friends for the day that I get on the plane and don't come back, is the harder thing to do. I don't always know if it's wiser or even if it makes more sense, but I did sign up for it, and I do have obligations yet to meet. It's complicated, I guess. I am glad to be on this healthier journey of moving away and starting fresh.

I remember when this new life began back in December 2013, I told my family and some friends, that in five years I was going to leave. I wanted to go and do something new, go on a mission, start over, I just wanted to get out of BC. My kids didn't pay much attention. They figured that it was fine since they'd all be out of high school by then, they really didn't care. My parents didn't believe me, and my one friend questioned my sincerity. I had no idea what I'd be doing when I left. I started looking into teaching abroad. I have no money and figured if I'm going to leave, I'm going to have to work while I'm gone or I can't go anywhere. Even mission work requires that I have funding, so that seemed like it wouldn't happen. I kept looking into how I would go and where I would go. Then I started to want to find a partner; someone to do this second half of life with, someone to go with me, or someone for me to go with on his journey, or maybe even to have a brand new mission together. It's amazing to think that Jesus has been listening to all my pondering's and prayers and has answered them is this way. It will be five years of this new life by the end of this year. My plan to leave has actual real footing and is happening, but totally not the way I had thought. It's so much better than just disappearing. I find myself praying for our future a lot. Right now it seems that it can't come fast enough and yet I feel like I don't have enough time to get myself and my kids ready. It's a strange place to be. There are days that I am overwhelmed by how much is going to change in my life when I move to the US; so much so that I'm actually scared. I mean what the hell did I do!!? It's a whole other world down there that I've only visited. Visiting is like being on vacation over and over again. I keep running into people, experiencing things, and doing things that remind me that this won't happen when you move. I won't know anyone down there. I have to start all over. I know I will always come back to Canada and see my family and I will always make time to see my children and their children. As the time moves closer for me to leave, I have to trust my husband to guide me through some of the details as I really don't have a clue. I'm trying to be prepared, but I'm pretty sure I can't prepare for everything down there. I have to trust Jesus. I do believe that he wants me to go, that my marriage and love for my husband is part of His plan for me.

If I'm honest, moving to the United States of America is somewhat distressing. As I look at the current climate in that nation, I'm ambivalent about the prospect of being surrounded by gun totting, Trump loving, fundamental, liberal (even though they don't know it), egocentric, ignorant, xenophobic, 'Christian based', racist, backwards, baby killing, capitalist, plastic Americans that think they're better than me. OK, that was harsh. That was a list of all the stereotypes I could think of about Americans. I'm sure there are many for Canadians. For example; Canadians are liberal, godless, overly apologetic, multicultural, baby killing, arrogant, gay marriage supporting, gender bending, beer drinking, pot smoking socialist morons, that think all Americans are idiots even though we wouldn't know what to do without our access to all your goods and services in every part of our economy. So... yeah... I guess I'm just used to this shit over their shit. I've never met a stereotypical American or a stereotypical Canadian. Real people just aren't like that. I will say I am a little bit afraid of the stance on guns in the US. I seriously don't understand. Not only am I Canadian, but I'm also Mennonite Brethren. I'm a pacifist in the truest sense of the word. As a teacher I have a huge stake in the matter. Schools are apparently not safe down there. My very livelihood could get me killed and I'm supposed to consider carrying a gun for the protection of myself and my students? Unbelievable. I didn't sign up for this, I just fell in love.

I'm changing the subject. I have no solutions or conclusions to what it will be like to move to the US. I just know it's happening in a year and a half and I'm preparing for that. I'm planning for my children to be set up as much as I can, I'm preparing my finances as much as I can, I'm hoping to ready my family and friends for my absence, and I'm going to need to set myself up for work in the US so that I can be busy and have purpose there. There are legal issues and preparations that need to be made that I'm going to need help with, and sometimes that causes me stress and invokes fear, as I don't understand it all. But I trust that Jesus knew this was all coming and it will all work out. I also trust my husband implicitly. I trust that our faith in Jesus will cut through the differences in our political, cultural, and familial thinking. I trust Jesus more than I trust my husband. If Jesus had me meet my husband, learn about him, love him, join with him, call me to him, and draw me in this direction, then Jesus will ensure that any challenge will be met with the Holy Spirit's intervention; both for me and for my husband.

I started a new job three weeks ago and it's been the beginning of more changes ahead. I have ripped off the comfort zone band aid. My Christian bubble at my old job is no longer, and no one knows my name. I am now out there in the public sector. It has been less stressful and new, interesting and frustrating at times, as well as eye opening. I have seen that teachers work hard. They work hard at every school, no matter what anyone says. I have seen that there really are more troubled students out there than we know what to do with, and I had forgotten about the huge need. I have seen that the diversity in school culture is huge. I have witnessed how environment shapes the way students behave; newer, cleaner schools have better behaved children than older, cluttered schools. Socioeconomic status really does change the dynamics and composition of schools. A principal's leadership style affects every aspect of the teacher's and student's daily life. It really does.

Leaving the school I taught at since 2011 has been hard. That work place had been so good to me; stood by me in a difficult time and provided fertile ground for the beginning of my teaching career. I actually started this process last May. Applying for jobs and taking interviews, I ended up turning down opportunities and signing on to stay. This past fall brought news that meant I had to make a decision as my job would no longer be as it once was. Once I finally made the choice, it was such a relief. Professionally and financially it was a good decision. I needed the change and the stability. Mentally and emotionally it was a good decision. I have felt less stress this month and I know it is because of the reduced responsibilities at work. I have good friends from my old work place, or at least I believe I do; this change is putting that to the test. I thought it might be difficult and made some initial attempts to address that before I left. I thought I had met their needs... but there is resentment and I think I'm going to lose some people. I'm surprised by those that are having the most trouble with it. It's disappointing and feels lonely. I am already lonely at my new job, and it is hard to see that some of my old colleagues are pulling back from me.

This is the beginning of the change. When I actually move away, I'm going to lose people. There's no point in denying that. I'm going to be in a place where no one knows my name. As I move around my new community in the US, I won't run into old students or athletes, friends from school or church, family, or colleagues. I will hopefully gain new connections on all levels, but it will be different. This is part of moving. Leaving behind, getting rid of baggage, and taking only what you feel belongs in the new place. It's hard that this leaving behind and getting rid of baggage ends up including people. I don't want my friends to inadvertently feel that I don't want them. If they don't want to be a part of the future of my life cause it's too hard to be friends with someone who is far away, I get it. There may be some relationships that aren't transportable; if they won't work without the structure of the same work place, then they certainly won't work without proximity. I have many friendships that I know will stand the test of distance and time. What I'm learning now, is which ones that have never experienced the stress of distance and time, will stand.

Moving to go and live with my husband is something I want like nothing else. My worries about being Canadian in an American world looms large these days, but I think that our common faith will be our guide in that. I have to put my fears in Jesus' hands when it comes to that. I don't want to be fiercely Canadian, I want to be a fierce follower Jesus, and at times that is going to go against nationality, governments, ideologies, and even laws. I have a vision of being at peace and resting once I live with him. I worry that I'm romanticizing it so much that I'm going to be disappointed when I actually get there, as things are never exactly as we imagine them. The stress of preparing to go and preparing my children to go is real. It's the reason I have the urge at times to just book a flight and leave it all behind, not even tell anyone what I'm doing. Just go, and tell everyone afterwards. Like eloping. It's ridiculous. What I need to do is stay in this moment. I'm here now, living and working, parenting and spending time with friends. This moment includes interludes with my husband. What we are learning is that our relationship is able to handle the stress of distance and time. We can do this despite my frustration at times that leaves me wanting to pull away. We have our routine's of phone calls and devotions and prayer that I need to stay plugged into. The peace and rest I'm seeking is not a destination or a moment in time. It is part of the whole journey and I have had wonderful moments both while in the presence of my husband and over the magic of the internet. The peace and rest that I need the most doesn't come from my marriage relationship, although God has given me plenty of that. It comes from only one person, Jesus. He travels with me wherever I go. There is no need to worry about distance and time with that relationship at all. If I can seek after that, no matter where I am or who I'm with, I can be at peace and rest.

One Word 2018

I have chosen trust as my one word for 2018, specifically trust in Jesus.  I am becoming acutely aware that it cannot be separated from obedience. I must trust Him and then obey Him, even if I don't see how it will work out, or I don't want to obey, or I am struggling to find the logical reasonable thing to do and it seems that fear wants to take over. Fear, that is how I came to choose trust as my word for this year. I was afraid to make a decision about work and it took me eight months to finally do so, because I was afraid. Afraid that God didn't have me, but He always does, I just need to trust Him.

Trust is a firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something. That someone is Jesus and that something is the faithfulness of my God. Maybe I should add a qualifier that says for me it is Jesus, my God and saviour... but I think He is the only person in whom trust will never be broken for everyone everywhere. The hope is that everyone will experience it, know it, and trust it's truth.

I have walked through 2017 with the banner of peace over me. Jesus has been my peace through situations at work, with family, as a mother, with my friends, as I have traveled, in decisions, in love, and even in my finances. It was a wonderful year with the highlight being a gift of peace in being married to the husband only Jesus could have found for me. Now I have to walk in a new path for 2018 in more ways than I had imagined. I will need to exercise my trust in Jesus probably more than I even know or understand. I will have to be obedient to His leading, His precepts, His word. And from what I know of choosing a word for the year, this will challenge me and I will be constantly reminded that I need to trust and obey if I want to be happy in Jesus... just like the old song says; thank you honey for reminding me.

Psalm 37:5
Commit your way to the LORD;
trust in him, and he will act.

Psalm 112:7
He is not afraid of bad news;
his heart is firm, trusting in the LORD.

Proverbs 3:5-7
Trust in the LORD with all your heart,
and do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make straight your paths.
Do not be wise in your own eyes;
fear the LORD, and turn away from evil.

Psalm 28:7
The LORD is my strength and my shield;
in him my heart trusts, and I am helped;
my heart exults,
and with song I give thanks to him.

Psalm 56