It's all about "payin it forward!"

I couldn't stop smiling... this morning, while on a short break from classes, I took the underground train to a busy street in the city and then caught a bus to take me down the street to where I needed to go.  It is my all time favourite flower shop, and they always do an exquisite job on putting together beautiful arrangements.  The young man behind the counter recognized me immediately, commenting on how my hair had grown since I was last there, and commented on my wonderful taste in flowers.  (Personally, I figure he was just trying to butter me up for the money I was about to spend with them, but I wouldn't have gone anywhere else)

The bouquet was then ordered "anonymously" for the receptionist who, while having to work Saturday, Sunday (until 10pm) and then yesterday - still managed to show up with a bright smile on Tuesday morning.  And these... are the pictures from the card.  The image that is cut out of the last picture, is Winnie the Pooh playing the flute.  After saying, "You are... exceptional, one of the best kept secrets of the program, wonderful, family, fantastic, #1, smart, unbeatable, voted (insert city name here) best, amazing, unbelievable, magic in action, fantastic, a star, remarkable, on fire, the greatest, super, happening, unique, the ultimate, a keystone"... the handwriting (disguised) reads: Anna, the program could not be what it is without your "unsung" musical contributions (!!) and harmony line.  Thank you so much for all you do!!

The bouquet was supposed to be delivered for 3:00pm this afternoon so that it would be there long before I showed up for training, yet cleverly delivered on the day that I would be in the office anyway (hopefully eliminating my name from the possible suspects, as I would have just brought the bouquet in if coming in anyway).  However, it showed up while I was there.  A bit off-putting, as I tried to stay out of the way, yet dodge questions when I was asked who might possibly do such a thing... but, all in all - it was great!

Her words were, "I just.... wow... how could... huh..." Hopefully she will go home, bathing in the fact that her endless hard work does not ALWAYS go unnoticed, and trust that she is loved, appreciated, and "belongs"

I think that's all we really need, isn't it?  To know that, on some level, we belong.  Whether it is to our work community, within a circle of friends, a church or worshipping community of some kind or a family... at the end of the day, we just need to know that... while often unspoken... we belong.  

A lesson that I wish more people would advocate, teach, and pray for.  But hey... I'm just one seekin' youngin... all I can do, is my personal best, each and every day.  And today... I did just that!  I would be interested in hearing what you have done or have had done to you that got the point across.  

I assure you...

... it's only because I love you.  

Really.  

Believe me.  That is the ONLY reason I am going to pick my grandma up at her place, and drive her to church for 5:00p.m. mass.  The rest of my family (who normally pick her up) are currently either in Ottawa for Lil Buddy's Volleyball National play-downs or out playing baseball... clearly out of cell phone reception.  

So, when I got a phone call last night asking politely, "Hello dear, are you going to mass this weekend?"

(I momentarily pondered the numerous answers running through my head at record speed, wishing to select the "proper" response).  "Weeeeeeeell, I work at 7:30 Sunday morning, so Saturday evening is a possibility, but unfortunately I can't go Sunday" ("unfortunately" made it sound like I was disappointed, right?)

"Well dear, if you pick me up, we can go to 5:00 mass and then I will cook you a steak dinner.  You can eat steak, right?"

"um... yup!" (though it is honestly the one meal that I eat with my teeth clenched... I was the kid at the family table who had a hot dog on her plate on Steak Saturdays - looooove beef, but hate steak.  But, it was sweet of her - planning a meal in which I wouldn't have to worry about allergies)

"So do you want to stop by here at 4:40?  That should get us to the church on time"

"You bet Grandma, I'll be downstairs at 4:40"

"Thank you sweety.  I look forward to seeing you."

"Me too.  Night!"

So... it is almost 4:30 and getting closer to the time in which I will leave to pick her up.  I just finished vacuuming out the car, windex-ing all the windows, and scrubbing floor mats.  It will just make the evening easier if things are top notch.  Hopefully she won't say anything about the foot marks on the inside of the passenger door... I had company in February who put them there, and couldn't bring myself to wipe them clean yet.  

Apparently the presider tonight is a visiting, retired bishop - whose younger brother, married my parents 25 years ago this summer.  Is it improper church etiquette to forego receiving a blessing from visiting bishop?  I can almost hear family members rolling over in their graves when I consider being rebellious and taking communion tonight, while not "in good standing with the greater church"...it's an awesome thought... but I won't.  I'm not ready to proclaim that leaving the RC church was a mistake.  

UGH!  Of all the weekends for my family to be out of town... they had to pick this one?  Maybe Grandma will call in sick... hahaha... who am I kidding?!  I better go get cleaned up.  I don't want to be the "grandaughter who dresses like a slob to take her grandma to church".  

Well, Grandma, I'm on my way shortly.  But... I assure you, it's not for the steak or the draw of going to church, it's really (truly) only because I love you.  

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.

Mountain Hiking

I learned a lot from my piano teacher.  She taught me how to bend my fingers when I play to allow for a better sound and technique, how to play incredibly difficult turns and land the "big jumps" marked by various squiggly lines on the music, and how to count the highs and lows of the mountain each day.  

When I began babysitting/"hanging out" (her oldest son was too old for a "babysitter, but too young for being on his own with his younger siblings), I learned the importance of the "Mountain Night Routine".  When each kid was tucked under the covers, after they said their prayers and found their teddy... they needed to be asked, "what was your mountain climbing moment today and what was your mountain top?"  And, in turn, the kids would answer with a "high" from the day as well as a "low".  

This routine has since been adapted slightly for summer camps, evening retreats, and quiet reflective moments with various aged youngin's and as I sit at the bookend of a very long and wonderful week, I find myself pondering about the mountain top and the hike moments.  

Here's what I have so far:

Low: many late nights, only managing to stay awake by propping my head up with textbooks

High: I wrote the last exam yesterday afternoon

Low: Found out that an incredible and mentor for the past number of years is moving to take on a parish elsewhere and will no longer be an escaping, bus ride away

High: I had lunch/an afternoon with a co-worker I recently met and found the time flew by much too quickly... for it didn't feel like a new friend, but a soul friend in which I had a lot of catching up to do

Low: Another week has passed, another page turned without managing to make contact with 6 people I care deeply about

High: Felt compelled to read the story of Thomas and am reminded about the everlasting joy of the resurrection, with it's countless opportunities for new life, hope, and reconciliation. 

What are your highs/lows of the week?  Whatever they may be, may there always be a glorious sunshiny day to celebrate the many blessings (or, in our case today... a peaceful snowfall).  

Sarcastic Wednesday

Ok, it's not really sarcastic Wednesday, but more accurately... this was how my day started out this morning. My supervisor and case trainer is in the midst of an absolutely insane work week. A huge medical exam is taking place across the street on May 3, and case training started at 8:30am this past Saturday, with a half hour lunch, and continued until 5 in the evening. Getting Sunday off, training resumed Monday at noon and ran until 9pm... a pattern that will continue until Saturday's modified training hours. The week leading up to the exam is scattered with half hour dry run throughs for every group, case, and scenario.

So, to mark the craziness and celebrate the turning point in the week, I sent her this cute Hoops and Yoyo card. Quite cute... if you're having a sarcastic Wednesday - definitely worth the minute of your time!!

God's Success Story: A Basket of Colourful Eggs

There are so many, very different blog topics floating around this school-logged brain of mine, but in tribute to a younger cousin who was old enough to learn about the magic of colouring Easter eggs this year for the first time... I figured a post or two on the egg was appropriate.  

While I cannot touch or eat the inside of an egg, that has never stopped me from staring in awe at them.  They make excellent youth group illustrations on a variety of topics.  I'm sure you've done the experiment in junior high where you take two plastic lids from a 2L pop bottle, a raw (uncooked) egg, and a stack of heavy books.  Asking the youth before hand, how many books they think the egg will hold after shaking the egg and proving it has a runny yoke, the answers range from 0-1... maybe. However, standing the egg upright on it's end in one of the lids, and placing the other lid (like a hat) on top allows you to stack an incredible number of heavy books upon the egg.  I've used this illustration to introduce topics of choosing the proper foundation in life, community and the importance of surrounding yourself with people you trust (lids), and even topics like, "Stand up!  Take Faith!"... for if you do, your inner strength and courage to withstand outside forces will be much stronger than you originally think.  

However, more than a perfect scientific/Christian illustration, eggs to me - are a perfect example of God's success story when it comes to the notion of divine timing.  Having grown up on the farm, and with a mom who would gather the eggs every two days, wash them and sell them... do you know how many conditions need to be absolutely perfect for a chick to exit an egg rather than a runny yoke?  The temperature in which they are kept must be within a range of a few degrees, or the baby chick will not survive and will default to being the runny egg.  The incubation time must be kept within a range of a few days or the chick won't develop either.  You cannot prematurely break the egg open, you'll kill the little, adorable, fuzzy thing.  

But, when the time is right and the chick is good and ready, prepared, healthy, and developed... it will start to slowly hammer on the shell... and piece by piece, a chick will emerge.  IT is not a hasty process - you definitely have enough time to call young ones to gather round when the chick starts tapping so they can witness this excitement, but at the same time - it is not a process that lasts days on end and elicits boredom either.  

The timing is just right.  

Yup, chicken/egg debate (that plagues five year olds to no end) aside, I would have to say that eggs are most definitely God's success story!

Stay tuned... next blog?  About the beauty and reminders of grace found in decorating these lil' marvels of creation! :)

Way to go, lil' buddy!

So there is a lot that I could say about how there are people who ought not to say anything about judgement, unless prepared to be judged themselves... or about how I just read the most incredible and uplifting (and honest) Easter letter and am going to skip to my next class...

... but instead...

... I give a shout out to the lil' cousins hockey team. Who, after going into a second overtime period on Sunday night, were declared the AJHL (----Junior Hockey League) CHAMPIONS!! I am absolutely delighted for them and it was truly a joy unlike any other to be physically present to see them play the way they did. They now go onto play the provincial winner of BC's Junior Hockey playdowns, and if they win that, could play for the Doyle (National?) Junior Hockey League Cup.

Excellent job boys!

And now, off to class to pick up my creative project and camera (which I have kinda missed over the last few days)... could go either way, but I'll let ya know later on.

Isaiah

Just when I am ready to throw in the foot-drying towel and raise my hands with exacerbation, and cry, "the church is full of human beings"... I am caught, pulled back in, and winded - all at once. 

If the past few days have shown me anything, it is that the "church" as we know it (in whatever expression we participate within), is made up of none other than human beings.  I think that once upon a time, a university chaplain tried to explain this to me, but I wasn't ready to hear it.  It is a realization much like the one I had when I first learned that Adam and Eve "may not" have actually been two, real, walking and breathing human beings.  *GASP*

It's true though.  I went to church every Sunday and firmly believed that "if" Adam and Eve were two fish or apes rather than human beings, my faith was no longer valid.  I don't know why I thought the Bible had to be read literally, but when I found out this was not true, my brain sort of exploded.  

The "human being composed church" realization is a lot like the Adam and Eve one. For the past 23 years, I have gone on believing and proclaiming that God is found in a church.  Slowly, over time, I came to accept the presence of God outside of the four walls and residing more precisely, within each human being that composed "the church".  And now, this most recent ideology might not be true either.  

I am grabbling with the idea that God created us IN HIS IMAGE, not as spittin' replicas of himself.  It is this reason that the phrase, to err is human, stands true.  We are human - (unless there is something you are not telling me) and we all make mistakes.  It's who we are... we will fall, stumble, groan, complain, and make horrible mistakes along this path.  Some of our mistakes (sins) will without a doubt, affect those around us.  I get that... 

What I don't "get"... is how there are actually church leaders out there who can pastor and shepherd a congregation, all the while believing that someone else's mistake has affected them personally, take rude offense to it, and walk away.  I understand that they too, are human - and have been given free will and choice in life.  But honestly, it doesn't speak much for the church you represent if those hurt on a greater caliber, are willing to stick it out and support the stumbling - while you are cutting loses and turning your back.  

Then again - maybe I just don't understand the human condition enough to be able to understand the actions of a few.  And so instead, on this Monday of Holy Week, I am standing in the middle of a desert, lost and searching, and kindly yelling, "Let my adversaries confront me" (Isaiah...).  

Tis an odd feeling

Of all the things to ponder on one's birthday, each year as the day approaches, I think back to the day I was born and the meaning that has held over all these years.  

Good Friday.  

There are years in which I find this piece of personal history smile-evoking.  These are the years in which I find myself thanking God for his backdoor sense of humor.  There is nothing like a stuck, horrendously Conservative and (big T) traditional Roman Catholic family to have their first born enter the world on Good Friday.  My ultra-Catholic Grandmother still refused to celebrate the birthday a few years ago when the day of celebration fell on the dark Friday.  

AND, then there are the years that I find it myself searching diligently for a deeper, more profound reason and come up with nothing more than it was just a normal Friday in the month of April.  

But this year, as the birthday falls on a different church feast day, tis truly an odd feeling.  Maybe it's the fact that I haven't been spiritually home since relocating late in December or perhaps it's that I am putting too many expectations on myself.  This year, the Passion is not just a story acted out, but an incredibly tangible reality - valid and human expression of what our Christian life really is.  

In years past, I've been on every side of the story - I have acted the part of the first and second criminal, Pilot, the guards, the crowd, the complementary music, and even the composition side of youth dramatizations.  The difference this year is that I don't yet know the part I am supposed to play.  

I don't know how to describe the feeling other than to sum it up as... "odd"... 

Maybe this year... is the year that I am simply supposed to "be".  Perhaps I am called to simply take a front row seat and absorb.  I guess I'll let ya know when I know!

I'm stuck.  Yup, not afraid to admit it and easily frustrated when others try and help by seemingly trying to clean off my stuck tires with a bucket of water.  Good intentions, just painfully not practical at the moment.  I guess there is a time and place and today is not the time and sitting on a hill is probably not the best place.  But... hey... in the larger picture - who cares?

The genuine question of the day, though is - how one can go about saying Happy Birthday to someone who still holds a huge place in your heart?  I'm caught up on the little things, and therefore - struggling to find the right words.  

Do you have any idea how magnificent the birthday greetings need to be for that one person who refused to give up on you, even when you would curse her under your breath, hide under the blankets, and tell them outright - you don't want to live in that state of health anymore?  What about for that person who unselfishly scheduled their work day around you: they dropped you off (in a rather grumpy state) in the morning for treatment, offered each and every day to stay and hold your hand, and was ALWAYS on the other end of the "magic cell phone" when you called in tears or jubilation, and asked her to come and get you... and who would leave work to come and get you?  For that person who would take you home, make the best grilled cheese in the world, fill your fuzzy hot water bottle, wrap you in a blanket, and sit with you - not leaving until you were completely past out?  

What do you say to the person who reacted the same, motherly way to dress shopping as she did to wig shopping, "YOU LOOK AMAZING" and then always follow it up by, "FOR REAL!" because you never felt as amazing as they described... or to the person who held you back from almost punching a lady in a busy store who misunderstood your gender by judging you solely on the ball cap you wore?  How can "happy birthday" be enough for the person who helped you break the rules, threw "chemo parties" and ever so gently, shaved the remaining few hairs from your head so that they wouldn't have to fall out?

For the individual who laid on your bed and read you chapters from Lord of the Rings so you could fall asleep on those difficult nights, and who never complained when your nightmares and endless tears about the dismal future brought her into your dark room... just to rub your back, dry your tears, and console you as best she could - how on earth, do you wish them a happy birthday?  

This is the lady who, as we sped to the hospital, put her seat all the way back, held your terrified hand and sung "You Are My Sunshine" over and over and over again; the person you left your provincial discernment meeting early for - so that you wouldn't miss one of the most important days of her life.  

She is the person you spent almost all day with, for the better part of two years... but also the mum you have only seen once since August.  

Somehow, the pathetic phrase, "Happy Birthday Mum" just isn't enough.