(in continuation of my 1000 gifts listing...)
181. My momma taking care of my sweet daughter.
182. Wanda playing with the kids.
183. A dog who loves to protect our family.
184. A play area in our basement for the kids to sprawl out.
185. New friends with shared beliefs. I am so truly thankful for this group.
186. Freezer full of food.
187. Being parent helper (even though it's an exhausting three hours) but I get to see my boy play and interact with others in a way he can't do at home.
188. Excited children for halloween parties.
189. warm, comfy slippers.
190. Hot cup of tea.
191. Sneaking out to spend some girl time with Jody and Sue.
192. The way my daughter curls into me while she falls asleep beside me.
193. My education.
194. Treehouse channel (is this bad to put as a thankful item?) I think it saves my sanity somedays.
195. The circle series books. Oh, how I enjoyed the reminders these books brought to my spirit.
196. Healthy family.
197. My own health. Everyday I am thankful to be able to walk, breathe and speak. I am so blessed.
198. That my kids aren't picky eaters.
199. For WWF and the Beth Moore videos.
200. That I have so many blessings to count. Thank you, God.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Smarties for good behaviour
I am not sure how to start this post. My mom thinks this story is hilarious. Quite funny. Hardy-har-har. I must say the humour was lost on me. And that's not all that I lost....
This is the story of a suburban mini-van driving mother of two with an errand list as long as her arm span (which is quite long, since she is over 6 ft tall).
Doting mother had just dropped off her first-born at his preschool where he boarded the big yellow bus and set out for adventures in corn mazes and pumpkin patches. Darling daughter was looking foward to the trip to Superstore with mommy, and of course the much-hyped box of smarties that was promised in exchange for good behaviour.
Along the way, minivan-driving mommy caught up to a large, diesel breathing, dark windowed truck that seemed to be having trouble reaching the speed limit. 'Hmmm", thought the mommy as she glanced at her speedometre, "50 km in a 70 km zone. Maybe I'll just go around this person." But alas, the turn-off to the marveled Superstore was (not-so-fast) approaching. A lane change is not part of this story. So mommy followed the terminally slow driver, all the while sending out a morse-code message of "do- not- get- stuck- behind- this- guy" with her brake lights. "Maybe he's texting," thought mommy, as she looked around for an officer of the law.
"There must be a reason why he is going TWENTY km below the speed limit!" Then the unthinkable happened - the black metallic turtle slowed down even more....and he was turning left. Even after the mommy had to wait for a break in traffic to make her left turn, she still had to brake for the molasses mascot that was slowly moving along in front of her.
Then, at the point where mommy was certain her dear chubby legged two-year old could waddle beside the gutless truck at a faster rate, the offending driver lazily flashed his right signal light and eased his hunk of metal into the yellow-framed parking stall. As I passed, our eyes met and he sat there grinning, all 60 plus years of himself, framed in a plaid collar.
And he was waving at me.
Not the, "hey I know you, let's hang out." Or "hey, hope you are having a good day," kind of wave.
No. This was a mocking wave. And minivan mommy nearly collapsed when her wave of anger crashed over her senses.
Thankfully, dear daughter was in the back seat. As it would totally improper for a responsible mother to leave daughter in the van while lashing out of the van in a fit of rage, minivan mommy did the only rational thing that came to her mind: she parked in the other end of the lot and sat there until she could see straight. But the image of his mocking smile and plaid shirt still had her seeing red. So she made a deal with herself. As she was clearly the bigger person, she would only resort to a single, well-placed, sting to the bone dirty look to that mocking snail dressed in plaid. Yes, that would suffice.
So smug mommy walked into the Superstore with eyes wide open, scanning the crowd for a stragglers (surely the man would walk as slow as he drove).
But after a few giggles from daughter and snickers of "I love yoooooooooou's" and tickle-wars in aisle 8, mommy's heart softened and the man in plaid was no longer attached to mommy's Superstore to-get list.
And as they were leaving, just as mommy had promised, daughter got smarties for good behaviour. And mommy got some too.
This is the story of a suburban mini-van driving mother of two with an errand list as long as her arm span (which is quite long, since she is over 6 ft tall).
Doting mother had just dropped off her first-born at his preschool where he boarded the big yellow bus and set out for adventures in corn mazes and pumpkin patches. Darling daughter was looking foward to the trip to Superstore with mommy, and of course the much-hyped box of smarties that was promised in exchange for good behaviour.
Along the way, minivan-driving mommy caught up to a large, diesel breathing, dark windowed truck that seemed to be having trouble reaching the speed limit. 'Hmmm", thought the mommy as she glanced at her speedometre, "50 km in a 70 km zone. Maybe I'll just go around this person." But alas, the turn-off to the marveled Superstore was (not-so-fast) approaching. A lane change is not part of this story. So mommy followed the terminally slow driver, all the while sending out a morse-code message of "do- not- get- stuck- behind- this- guy" with her brake lights. "Maybe he's texting," thought mommy, as she looked around for an officer of the law.
"There must be a reason why he is going TWENTY km below the speed limit!" Then the unthinkable happened - the black metallic turtle slowed down even more....and he was turning left. Even after the mommy had to wait for a break in traffic to make her left turn, she still had to brake for the molasses mascot that was slowly moving along in front of her.
Then, at the point where mommy was certain her dear chubby legged two-year old could waddle beside the gutless truck at a faster rate, the offending driver lazily flashed his right signal light and eased his hunk of metal into the yellow-framed parking stall. As I passed, our eyes met and he sat there grinning, all 60 plus years of himself, framed in a plaid collar.
And he was waving at me.
Not the, "hey I know you, let's hang out." Or "hey, hope you are having a good day," kind of wave.
No. This was a mocking wave. And minivan mommy nearly collapsed when her wave of anger crashed over her senses.
Thankfully, dear daughter was in the back seat. As it would totally improper for a responsible mother to leave daughter in the van while lashing out of the van in a fit of rage, minivan mommy did the only rational thing that came to her mind: she parked in the other end of the lot and sat there until she could see straight. But the image of his mocking smile and plaid shirt still had her seeing red. So she made a deal with herself. As she was clearly the bigger person, she would only resort to a single, well-placed, sting to the bone dirty look to that mocking snail dressed in plaid. Yes, that would suffice.
So smug mommy walked into the Superstore with eyes wide open, scanning the crowd for a stragglers (surely the man would walk as slow as he drove).
But after a few giggles from daughter and snickers of "I love yoooooooooou's" and tickle-wars in aisle 8, mommy's heart softened and the man in plaid was no longer attached to mommy's Superstore to-get list.
And as they were leaving, just as mommy had promised, daughter got smarties for good behaviour. And mommy got some too.
168
Continuing my gratitude roll-call:
168. Husband taking the kids out of the house. Doesn't matter where, just out. (Mommy needs some breathing room).
169. Vacuum cleaner is fixed. Now maybe I can tell that other dog that is growing under my bed to leave! (gross, I know)
170. Daughter's 'i love you this much's
171. Son having a great time on his field trip and coming home safely.
172. Husband making supper.
173. Plans to see lots of friends tomorrow.
174. The smell of clean laundry.
175. Furnaces.
176. Watching Oilers on TV tonight with husband.
177. Playing dress-up with my daughter (I so love having a girl to do this with!)
178. Hiding under the blankets with daughter and giggling at our static-y hair.
179. Heartfelt understanding from husband when the kids melt down at supper. The "I don't know how you do it, but thank goodness I don't have to do this all day" look. You know the one.
180. Not feeling too guilty about skipping agility class tonight. Sometimes it's good to just stay home (especially when you're grouchy!)
168. Husband taking the kids out of the house. Doesn't matter where, just out. (Mommy needs some breathing room).
169. Vacuum cleaner is fixed. Now maybe I can tell that other dog that is growing under my bed to leave! (gross, I know)
170. Daughter's 'i love you this much's
171. Son having a great time on his field trip and coming home safely.
172. Husband making supper.
173. Plans to see lots of friends tomorrow.
174. The smell of clean laundry.
175. Furnaces.
176. Watching Oilers on TV tonight with husband.
177. Playing dress-up with my daughter (I so love having a girl to do this with!)
178. Hiding under the blankets with daughter and giggling at our static-y hair.
179. Heartfelt understanding from husband when the kids melt down at supper. The "I don't know how you do it, but thank goodness I don't have to do this all day" look. You know the one.
180. Not feeling too guilty about skipping agility class tonight. Sometimes it's good to just stay home (especially when you're grouchy!)
Saturday, October 17, 2009
cranky
Grrr. I am cranky. Cranky, cranky, cranky. It's times like these I wish God gave humans an 'off' button for our emotions. Being more like Data (really nerdy Star Trek reference) would certainly help. I think my husband would especially appreciate it.
So, what better thing to do when I'm fuming with frustration??? Why, count my blessings, of course! (I can just picture God grinning down at me right now). So here goes...
157. That we made it home from Lisa's house safe. Yes, that is good.
158. Visiting with Lisa and listening to the kids giggle as they chased each other around the house.
159. Getting a great costume for the upcoming Halloween party we get to go to. Again, thanks to Lisa :)
160. Warm beds to tuck the kids into after a long day.
161. Finally getting a replacement camera (so very excited about this one!)
162. Husband getting the Christmas lights all put up. (No, we won't be those people who have their lights turned on in October ;)
163. Excitement to be God parents for the very first time tomorrow.
164. God stops.
165. Watching the kids twirl around on the deck this afternoon. They are such great teachers for me.
166. Walks in the dog park with my little family.
167. Feeling better because of God's blessings. *Thank you, God*
So, what better thing to do when I'm fuming with frustration??? Why, count my blessings, of course! (I can just picture God grinning down at me right now). So here goes...
157. That we made it home from Lisa's house safe. Yes, that is good.
158. Visiting with Lisa and listening to the kids giggle as they chased each other around the house.
159. Getting a great costume for the upcoming Halloween party we get to go to. Again, thanks to Lisa :)
160. Warm beds to tuck the kids into after a long day.
161. Finally getting a replacement camera (so very excited about this one!)
162. Husband getting the Christmas lights all put up. (No, we won't be those people who have their lights turned on in October ;)
163. Excitement to be God parents for the very first time tomorrow.
164. God stops.
165. Watching the kids twirl around on the deck this afternoon. They are such great teachers for me.
166. Walks in the dog park with my little family.
167. Feeling better because of God's blessings. *Thank you, God*
Thursday, October 15, 2009
My husband
I can't even put into words the heaviness that has just been weighted on my heart. I just finished reading a blog written by a girl about my age who has four kids and just lost her husband of ten years. (http://sixbendersandadog.blogspot.com/) She is still a young girl...and now she has lost her best friend.
I can't even imagine.
I don't want to imagine.
But I still feel, even though I don't know her. God created us in order to form a relationship with Him. And through that relationship with Him, we become intertwined with all his children - whether we know their names or not.
And I have had a taste of my Godly sister's grief. Empathizing with someone who has lost their husband catapults my complacent heart to lurch for the one I love. So many things I take for granted that he does, and is, to my life. Random things like shoveling the driveway, putting away the patio furniture for the winter, paying the bills, washing the crusty dishes and killing spiders for his wimpy wife. Hugs that envelope me after a long day with the kids, kisses on the top of my head as he cradles me under his chin. The smell of his neck when I nuzzle in close, his strong hands when he massages my back.
These simple things that mark my heart and tell me that I am his, and he is mine. Thank God for my husband and that I get to hold him again today - because really - that's all we ever have.
I can't even imagine.
I don't want to imagine.
But I still feel, even though I don't know her. God created us in order to form a relationship with Him. And through that relationship with Him, we become intertwined with all his children - whether we know their names or not.
And I have had a taste of my Godly sister's grief. Empathizing with someone who has lost their husband catapults my complacent heart to lurch for the one I love. So many things I take for granted that he does, and is, to my life. Random things like shoveling the driveway, putting away the patio furniture for the winter, paying the bills, washing the crusty dishes and killing spiders for his wimpy wife. Hugs that envelope me after a long day with the kids, kisses on the top of my head as he cradles me under his chin. The smell of his neck when I nuzzle in close, his strong hands when he massages my back.
These simple things that mark my heart and tell me that I am his, and he is mine. Thank God for my husband and that I get to hold him again today - because really - that's all we ever have.
Friday, October 9, 2009
A flurry of thoughts
The juxtaposition of the green-leaved trees against the powdered white snow perplexes my senses.
The dusting of snow seemingly fell out of old man winter's mouth as he chuckled to himself knowing his time is nearly here. The water, caught off-guard from winter's advances, takes the form of long, spindly glass-like fingers reaching out from shadows of the rain spouts.
It's strange to see the green leaves still on the trees. They have yet to transform into their hues of gold and browns and begin their descent to the ground, forming a blanket of warmth for the tired and worn blades of grass. Strange how the coming season can still surprise autumn's fall.
Somehow I expect the changing of the seasons to follow a set schedule; orchestrating a rhythm of buds, blossoms, foliage and bareness. My human mind is desperate for a neatly packaged environment, of which I can set my watch to (and change the wreaths on my front door accordingly). But my spirit relishes in the joys of knowing life is much more than chronological days laid out neatly in black rimmed boxes. Plans for tomorrows are always interrupted by moments of today.
And so it is. Snow lays sleepily on the outstretched limbs of the trees while decorative pumpkins strive to keep their place on the frosty lawn. Rubber boots are traded in for winter boots, fleece jackets fall way to the flannel-lined snowsuits. And while plants yawn themselves into their winter slumber, I am awakened by today's treasures of white, green and gold.
The dusting of snow seemingly fell out of old man winter's mouth as he chuckled to himself knowing his time is nearly here. The water, caught off-guard from winter's advances, takes the form of long, spindly glass-like fingers reaching out from shadows of the rain spouts.
It's strange to see the green leaves still on the trees. They have yet to transform into their hues of gold and browns and begin their descent to the ground, forming a blanket of warmth for the tired and worn blades of grass. Strange how the coming season can still surprise autumn's fall.
Somehow I expect the changing of the seasons to follow a set schedule; orchestrating a rhythm of buds, blossoms, foliage and bareness. My human mind is desperate for a neatly packaged environment, of which I can set my watch to (and change the wreaths on my front door accordingly). But my spirit relishes in the joys of knowing life is much more than chronological days laid out neatly in black rimmed boxes. Plans for tomorrows are always interrupted by moments of today.
And so it is. Snow lays sleepily on the outstretched limbs of the trees while decorative pumpkins strive to keep their place on the frosty lawn. Rubber boots are traded in for winter boots, fleece jackets fall way to the flannel-lined snowsuits. And while plants yawn themselves into their winter slumber, I am awakened by today's treasures of white, green and gold.
Monday, October 5, 2009
One week of blessings
141. Mike's baptism
142. Warm words from friends
143. Visits with Bevy
144. Cozy home with lit candles
145. Pumpkins placed on our lawn
146. I love you "this much"
147. Turkey with family
148. holding hands with my dad in church
149. sitting with my parents in church
150. Worship songs that touch my soul
151. Whispered prayers in the quiet moments before sleep
152. Watching the freedom of puppy play
153. Being there to help out friends
154. A husband who writes 'rest time for wife' in my calendar
155. Watching Oilers game with my husband from the comfort of our couch :)
156. Visiting my auntie Kath
142. Warm words from friends
143. Visits with Bevy
144. Cozy home with lit candles
145. Pumpkins placed on our lawn
146. I love you "this much"
147. Turkey with family
148. holding hands with my dad in church
149. sitting with my parents in church
150. Worship songs that touch my soul
151. Whispered prayers in the quiet moments before sleep
152. Watching the freedom of puppy play
153. Being there to help out friends
154. A husband who writes 'rest time for wife' in my calendar
155. Watching Oilers game with my husband from the comfort of our couch :)
156. Visiting my auntie Kath
This little light of mine
The virgin taper is kissed excitedly by the fire of Christ. A flare of flame ignites on the slender white candle, its light flickering and growing brighter, as if gaining strength from the One who created light itself.
He stands beside me, my hand resting on the small of his broad back, willing my love to help support him on this day of acknowledgment. A child-like man, towering at 6'5, stands before strangers, stripped of the masks of pride, ego and shame. Tears of longing, regret and rawness mark their path down his cheeks, and into the hearts of those who listen as his voice relents to emotion, "I have come to proclaim my belief in God."
The path to this moment has been laced with disillusionment and at times obscured by suits and hollow words. God's voice hushed by the urgencies of the day, exposed flaws in man's religious law and personal agendas.
But even shadows cannot exist without light. And the light pointed to signs. Signs to our new home, signed by God himself. His grace filled both our hearts and caused us to feel God and weep with longing. "How precious did that Grace appear the hour I first believed."
And so here he stands, in front of the congregation, hands steadied by his childhood bible, with the worn blue cover and pages tabbed by his five-year old self. Baptismal waters cascade over his brow, washing away the lonliness and hurt, cleansing his soul for rebirth. The sign of God is marked with oil on his forehead.
And the candle is lit. A fire that can never be put out, a fire that thirsts for truth, a fire that pushes the shadows away ~ casting only light. Let it shine.
He stands beside me, my hand resting on the small of his broad back, willing my love to help support him on this day of acknowledgment. A child-like man, towering at 6'5, stands before strangers, stripped of the masks of pride, ego and shame. Tears of longing, regret and rawness mark their path down his cheeks, and into the hearts of those who listen as his voice relents to emotion, "I have come to proclaim my belief in God."
The path to this moment has been laced with disillusionment and at times obscured by suits and hollow words. God's voice hushed by the urgencies of the day, exposed flaws in man's religious law and personal agendas.
But even shadows cannot exist without light. And the light pointed to signs. Signs to our new home, signed by God himself. His grace filled both our hearts and caused us to feel God and weep with longing. "How precious did that Grace appear the hour I first believed."
And so here he stands, in front of the congregation, hands steadied by his childhood bible, with the worn blue cover and pages tabbed by his five-year old self. Baptismal waters cascade over his brow, washing away the lonliness and hurt, cleansing his soul for rebirth. The sign of God is marked with oil on his forehead.
And the candle is lit. A fire that can never be put out, a fire that thirsts for truth, a fire that pushes the shadows away ~ casting only light. Let it shine.
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