And the winner today... Dr. J

"How is the medication working?" (Dr. J)
"Yes, I think so, but... it seems to leave me with a really dry mouth" (YS)
"Does this bother you?"
"Well, yes. You see, I was playing saxophone the one morning in church and there were a subsequent number of squeaks that are not normally part of my music because I couldn't gather up enough saliva to keep my reed damp enough..."
"Oh, you play the saxophone?"
"Yup!"
"Where are you going to church?"
"Well, I don't really refer to it as 'going to church' because I am really and truly only there for the music"
"You aren't there for God?"
"Nope"
"Are you mad at God? Because as a Christian (pointing to themselves at this point), just know that you are never alone in that journey"
"Ok"
"I once had a patient call God a very, very, very, very, very, very, very bad name - one that would never come out of my lips... are you afraid of God?"
"Uhhh... (voice quivering slightly)..."
"We should work on that. Find someone that we can talk to about that. We can both do that and we will compare notes next time."

I no longer felt completely alone on this journey where judgment seems to come before acceptance and more importantly, really respect a health care professional who is up front with me and calls it like it is - even if it threw me for a loop initially.

Tonight, I give thanks for the gentle way in which the truth was sought about a touchy subject and the reassurance that was shared, reminding me that I am not alone, not an alien, and not forgotten.

Picking up the Pieces

After spending a weekend away, I came home to a room that needed some TLC before the upcoming week got too crazy to give it some proper attention. I unfortunately discovered this the painful way.

When I stepped off my bed to be able to sort through the laundry from the weekend, there was a sharp, shattering noise and a few seconds later, an immensely sharp pain on the bottom of my foot. Without even looking down, I knew what had happened.

Last week, in the flurry to pack and leave as early as possible, I accidently dropped a Christmas ball (like the ones you hang on your tree) that I received from a lady at work. It had shattered and while I thought that I should clean up the pieces at that very moment, I didn't. I simply promised myself that it would be the first thing I did when I got home.

But I forgot.

And now, I was paying for it. As I tried to pull the shattered glass out of my heel to bandage it up, I realized yet again - just how relevant this life moment was symbolizing something more; it was reflecting the current state of my spiritual life. Symbolically, it was not my foot that was hurting, it was my heart.

I kept telling myself that I would tend to an important relationship later. Tomorrow turned into the next day, which turned into the next major feast, which quickly slid into the next month, and then the next year. And, here I am - on the Sunday night - realizing that I have waited too long to pick up the pieces. Broken, lost, tired, sore, and now bleeding... I am faced with an extended healing period that will require more effort and TLC than if I would have just picked up the pieces over a year ago.

A year ago, the pieces were manageable - they were large in size, and low in number. And now, having walked on them, they are tiny shards that will require a careful eye and gentle fingers and probably a vacuum and a whoooooole lot of patience and perseverance.

But, I learn the hard way.

At least I learn.... kinda.... sorta....

That said, I am about to drop to my hands and knees to start a long and tedious healing process. As soon as I get a bandaid and some polysporin, that is.

Muppets, Church and Belief

This will be a short post as I only woke up a short time ago and have to run through the shower before my dad gets back and we go to look at cars to replace the one that was totalled last week. (Stupid truck drivers!)

Yesterday I took one of the ladies that I support to mass. It's funny because although we are entirely two different people, her and I seem to understand one another on a level that is not quite where other team members see themselves.

Anyway, there she was - blessing everyone who would make eye contact with her, singing to hearts content (though completely out of key and incorrect words, it did not matter), and giving thumbs up to the guy behind us because he had a "lovely singing voice". She was smart enough to put two and two together because when Fr. A started talking all about "preparing the way", she tugged on my sleeve and not-so-quietly whispered, "we have to prepare for the Baby Saviour. He comes at Christmas, you know!"

It was a powerful moment on this advent journey for me because although we were sitting there for her that morning, I had a "Grinch moment"... you know, one of those moments where my heart grew three sizes.

There was Fr. A, preaching in a church that I left years ago to pursue a dream, speaking to a heart that has been self-inflicted with grief, hurt, and pity; nearing the end of his 10 minute homily, I could truly feel my heart getting warmer, praying for a sense of cultivation and watering.

"Fine. If you have crooked ways that need to be straightened, by all means, straighten them. If you have rough paths that need smoothing, then smooth them over. But do not do all these things in order to prepare to be touched by the Christ child at Christmas time... do these things because you are obsessive or compulsive or both, ok? God does not want you to come to the manger all high and mighty with all your affairs in order because then he cannot help you. He wants you to come, with all your crooked and imperfected ways, for it is only through the cracks that the light can shine..."

Left me a ponderin' late into the night last night and still sits heavy on my heart this morning. Maybe there is truth to what he was saying... I'll keep you posted.

Fool-proof Proof that God exists!

It is, by far, thee most childish and immature argument for why I believe God exists more than Santa, the Easter Bunny, or the Tooth Fairy... but it is a proof that has never let me down. For some reason, it is the proof that I've always clung to and am reminded of each fall. Each time I remember this proof, I make the mental note of filing it in the back of the cabinet under "potential sermon illustration". Here it is.

I know that God exists because unlike Santa, God can hear the prayers that I say in my head; God can read my mind, but if you want Santa to know something, you have to either write it down or say it out loud. I know that God exists because unlike the Easter Bunny, God is capable of gifting more than chocolate and God doesn't leave a mess anywhere; God gifts things like love, forgiveness, grace, and peace, but the Easter Bunny is only capable of gifting those things which come in moulds - most often, in the shape of a bunny and rarely does the Easter Bunny gift anything aside from milk chocolate (not exactly a utility kind of gift). Plus, you don't have to clean up after God, he cleans up after you. But the Easter Bunny requires a pooper-scooper and a large pail in it's wake. Finally, I know that God exists because the rewards of making a sacrifice come in copious showers, but the Tooth Fairy never rewards more than a two dollar coin; God isn't cheap, but the Tooth Fairy certainly is. God understands that having an important, rooted aspect of your life is a painful, tedious process and never puts a numerical value on what is being lost, but the Tooth Fairy seems to think that Novacane makes everything manageable and clearly thinks that being able to break life into bite-size pieces is only worth small coinage. Plus, God does not hold our past against us but that stupid Tooth Fairy holds all the teeth in an envelope in Dad's bathroom - probably just to give back to us when we are old and start to lose these teeth.

I have been up for a few hours already, pre-sunrise thinking about this "proof" and how absolutely certain I was 18 years ago that the proof was infallible. Growing up on the farm, this time of year was one of mixed feelings. We only got to see my dad on Sunday mornings for church, if we got to stay up really, really late, or if it was pouring rain. He would always be out of the house before we got up in the morning and would never get back until after we were in bed. Every night, my mom would hear the instructions that she was to pass onto my dad when he got home. "Tell dad that as SOON as he gets home, to come and kiss me goodnight, make sure that Kristin didn't steal all the blankets or kick me onto the floor. Then, after he showers and eats his supper, tell him to come back in for one more kiss before bed, k?" She would nod, assure us that he always came into our rooms when he got home, kissed us goodnight, and made sure we were all tucked in. Night after night, my sister and I would be scolded for having to "use the bathroom" every five minutes, taking turns to see if dad was home.

If we were lucky, we would get to take supper out to the field for him. We would put milk in a canning jar and essentially, pack a small, cold picnic for him. Annnnd, if we were really lucky (and if the baby was sleeping in the car), we would get to go for a round on the combine with him. On the nights that we didn't go out to the field (we typically only took supper out on the nights where they were going to be combining into the early hours of the morning), we would leave him pictures, mis-spelled notes, and crafts by his plate for him to look at/read/admire while he ate his supper.

And this was the time of year, where part one of the proof was first discovered. Prayers were often said together, post teeth-brushing and pre-tuck in. Together, we would pray for good weather, good crops, safety, for people we loved.... and then silently, I would add a prayer for a whole day of pouring rain. I didn't necessarily want to contradict the good weather prayers that mom prayed for, but I just wanted one day of pouring rain so that dad could stay home.

Sure enough, after what seemed like eternity to a six year old, it rained. Two days straight. I didn't need to say these prayers out loud at bedtime for God to hear them. God heard my prayers for rain and didn't let me down. Now Santa on the other hand, should maybe take a lesson in the non-verbal, silent requests. If he did, I bet there would be a lot more Christmas presents of peace wrapped with a bow under the tree Christmas morning. And probably, a Transformer toy instead of that Barbie.

Words to Live By

I am on a cleaning mission. Now that I've stewed and dwelt from within the pile of heaped compost, wasted time dreaming about what was and what could have been... I have decided that ultimately - these are beyond my problem solving ability.

Wish I would have realized this back in October, rather than sitting amongst my own sewage, however... I'm relieved that I have transitioned to the long awaited "shower stage".

Anyway, this post isn't supposed to be about the transition, but about something I found while in this stage.

Written on a corner scrap of sky blue paper, ripped on three of four edges, I found this written:

We can move forward in God and through God's will.
Although this can sometimes be challenging or horribly uncomfortable
And while we may pine for the pastures in which we came from...
By following God's will in our lives,
We can journey where we are not on our own.

I am not sure where I wrote it down from, whose words they are or the context in which this wisdom was shared. However... I kinda like it. And once I finish cleaning up this mess in which I write this post from... maybe... just maybe, I may paint these words on my wall.

Maybe I oughta go buy a fish too. The tank on the shelf of my desk is lookin' kinda lonely.

Letter from the Pigs

***phone ringing***



"Hello?"
"Hello Chickagale, this is God speaking"
***shocked facial expression inserted here***
"Chickagale, please close your window and get into bed and warm your lil' piggies up. My peeps can't handle letters of complaint from your pigs this week..."

Just as a point of clarification, the bold is the "booming voice of God" and the picture of feet is definitely not my own foot, but yet, an accurate representation of the lil' piggies. :D

A Journey of a Lifetime

I believe that I have alluded to this journey before now, and if I haven't, then I hope that this brief explanation will make some degree of sense.  This past Advent season, I had the incredible blessing of walking a sister through Advent.  The journey was facilitated through a rather "P.S. I Love You" type fashion with cute, little, neon green envelopes and letters.  It was also met with the occasional little tangible reminder of that week's theme, just in case reminders were required as the weeks progressed.  

Regrettably, through a series of unfortunate events in my life, I was never able to send the final, Christmas Eve package.  I then thought that I could send it for Epiphany, however, that too fell through.  It will still get sent, I just don't know when.  And, as far as that goes... it is quite evident that this message was supposed to be delivered way before now - and probably not in the form of an afternoon blog entry - but I've got to work with what I have.  So... I am open to your feedback, please let me know what you think about this... 

I have a little wooden creche in which I have stuffed some fake straw from Michael's (the craft, expensive, superstore).  Underneath a small section of burlap, where the infants head would lay, there is a small piece of mirror.  

Why?

Well, because this sister's journey was about a deliberate walk from hectic chaos, to the side of the manger... to journey back to that incredibly silent and amazingly holy night to look into the innocent and loving face of our Saviour.  I have a theology of ministry in which each one of us is born with a tiny piece of mirror, often found in our soul.  This mirror is responsible for reflecting out to the world, the "image of God" that rests within us.  Because we are human, each one of us was created in love and made in the incredible image of God.  As we engage this seeking journey we call life, we reflect the piece of God within us to all whom we meet, and we learn a little bit more about God viewing the mirrors of those whose paths cross with ours.  

I am a firm believer of this.  That God resides in each one of us, reflecting the true essence of God back out to all of God's beloved.  This puts a very serious responsibility upon each one of us, in that we are always called to openly share the true love, mercy, grace, forgiveness, hope, faith and joy that God is.  Sometimes, we trip and fall and our mirror becomes cloudy and full of fingerprints, but we always have the long list of chances to fix this.  

Each one of us carries a slightly different reflection of God, and what a blessing that is!  It gives us the chance to ALWAYS engage this seeking journey.  Just imagine how crappy it would be if we met someone else with the same Godly reflection that we already knew or have seen... that would seriously stink!  We would just get sooooo bored of journeying because we would be seeing the same thing every few steps.  Can you say... BOOOOORING!! 

So, my sister, as the deliberate journey to the creche comes to an end and the journey from the creche into the world has only just began, I send you this tiny mirror as a constant reminder of the reflection of God that God has placed within you.  While it is often a terrifying experience to journey into the night, my prayer for you will always be that you may find that incredible sense of grace to walk with your head held high.  God has entrusted a very integral part of His awe-some being upon your mirror - that only you have.  There will be no one else to share this part of God with the world, so gather up your courage (already instilled within you), hold your head high, and walk humbly in the love that God has set aside for you and you alone.  Do whatever it is that you need to do first, but don't waste time feeling sorry for yourself.  There is a reason you are who you are... and God is calling you in a very deliberate way - right now.  

You know that Disney is an integral part of my life and while this quote is Disney in nature, I believe that it very much applies to your journey and Christian life, and so I pass it on to you (on behalf of someone else, much more incredible and awe-some than I); 

"There is something you must always remember: You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, 

even if we're apart... 

I'll always be with you."

Go forth in love and mission, my sister, Go Forth!  And, as you journey, Godspeed (May God be with You!)