Reminders

Today my son put yellow post-it notes all over the main floor. He even used the chairs to reach places he normally could not.

When I asked him what they were, he said that they are his "I'm not feeling well signs". The small rectangles of paper were covered in scribbles, lines bleeding ink from where he pressed his preschool-might into the felt.

"This one means my throat hurts," he pointed out. "And this one means my tummy hurts, see - there is my belly-button."

Scribbled pieces of paper posted throughout the house for the rest of us to see. Signs meant to alert us that he isn't feeling well.

Reminders of his needs.

What reminders do you need to see today?

The promise of Hope

The tiny specks, barely visible to my eyes, weave their way through the chilled air, seemingly knowing November has served its expiry notice. Tomorrow's sunrise will escort December into a landscape of newly fallen snow.

A fresh start to a new month.

I am reminded of this week's advent candle being lit with the promise of hope. As our Sunday reading said, 'hope is like a light shining in a dark place'.

Like today's snowfall, will hope bring a blanket of comfort? Or will it be stomped out by the masses? Or shoveled aside?

I know I could use the fresh start. A clean, white slate. In a way, today's fall marks tomorrow's hope.

I've fallen more times than I can count. I've fallen for empty promises, consumerism, pride, arrogance, selfishness and fault-laying.

But through it all, HE has promised to pick me up, heal my brokenness and hold me close.

His promise always remains. And it is in that promise that I place my hope.

Tuesday in Thanks

Continuing to count God's work in my life...

238. Honest conversations
239. Friends with insight
240. Surprise steamed-milk lattes
241. Watching son play soccer
242. Money to spare
243. Watching my two kids imagine together
244. Beth Moore studies
245. Demonstrating leadership
246. Being prompted to plot my life events, and then marveling at God's fingerprints in my life.
247. Scavenger hunts
248. Bowl full of peanut M&Ms
249. Hand holding
250. Baby steps
251. God always being there to listen
252. Setting up the Christmas tree
253. Watching son count down the days until Christmas


254. Squeals of delight when hanging the "light bulbs" (ornaments) on the tree
255. Children making cards for Jesus's birthday present (their idea)

256. Serene blanket of snow
257. Christmas lights to light up the darkness
258. Knowing I am loved...

A clear need

Dishes are piled up on the counter. Not just dirty dishes from the morning breakfast's whirlwind of Cheerios and Rice Krispies, but 'clean' dishes from the dishwasher that served its strike notice.

My mouth scowls, sending sour words to my self, spewing disdain for another have-to added to my exhaustive list. There's always something to be taken care of. Dishes, crumbs on the floor, mismatched socks on the laundry room floor, dog food kibbles lining the hallway baseboards, children's runny noses, husband's restless sleep...

Most days I take a deep breath and move on. My mind shames my heart into silence by reciting the horrors around the world, even in my own suburban community. Disease, heart-break, bankruptcy, death. Who am I to complain?

I pause from unloading the dishwasher to glance at one of the crusty drinking glasses in my hand. Its purpose of quenching thirst, lost because it was unclean - marked with yesterday's unwanted scraps.

I submerge the glass into the hot soapy water. Carefully running my cloth around the mouth of the cup, reaching to its depth - scrubbing to rid it of the built-up grime.

I have a lot of grime built up in me too. Spots of waste are muddying my vision. I can't see past the disorder, mess and uselessness. I too often forget my purpose.

I am in need of a good cleansing.

I need to lather myself up in His love. I need to exfoliate yesterday's expectations and failures. I need to stop looking at the world through my tainted eyes. Rather, I need to see the world through the window of my soul: open, reflective, and purposeful.

Things he knows for sure...

So my friend told me about this conversation my four-year old was having with her son on the way to preschool. My son says, "So, there are three things I know for sure. October, November and December. Oh, and one more thing: Jesus loves me."

WOW. How can anyone doubt that Jesus is real and working in our lives everyday?

What things do you know for sure?

God's joys

God, keep my eyes focused on your blessings...they are abundant!

218. Asking my son what his favourite parts of Sunday were, and he said two things: "Playing TV games with Nana and making apple pie with Nana. It's my lucky day!"

219. Sunday meals at my childhood home with all the family crowded around the small table.
220. Watching Oilers hockey while husband rubs my feet.
221. Chipping in for a Santa suit for Christmas surprises.
222. The glow of our outdoor Christmas lights.
223. Celebrating Kirsten at her bridal shower.
224. A clean dog!
225. Benefits that allow me to get massages.
226. Vehicles that serve us well.
227. Morning cuddles.
228. The excitement when my kids see me enter the room to play (such pure joy!)
229. Quiet moments to write.
230. Anticipating the miracle of birth.
231. Christmas plans for family time.
232. Inspiring stories that remind me of God's love.
233. The countless number of times my children say "I love you" in one day...
234. A day without any appointments.
235. Time to reflect on my own short-comings and praying to God to help me.
236. Oatmeal crisp cereal. My favourite morning treat...
237. God-inspired writing.

What has made you smile with gratitude for God's hand in your life?

Forever Friends

"Mommy, maybe I'll meet my new friends at the park today," states my four-year old son. You see, that's what he calls the kids at the park he hasn't met yet. It really doesn't matter how old the other kids are, whether his new friend is a boy or a girl - my son approaches the child the same. "Hi - do you want to play?" And with that, my little man makes a new friend and together they race around the green climbing bars, leaving their preschool footprints in the sand as they mark their friendship with a tour of the playground.

I admit I am jealous of the simplicity of it all. My son doesn't care if the other kid's hair is messy, what colour her jeans are, or whether the boy talks with a lisp. My little boy decided as soon as the other child accepted his invitation to play that they were friends. Plain and simple.

So when did it get complicated for me? Sure, I can point fingers at the mean girls in junior high who made fun of anyone that showed even an ounce of insecurity (and I tipped the scales). Or maybe it got complicated when I was betrayed by my 'best friends', or used by others because I was too afraid to speak-up. Whenever it was, I wish I could go back to simple truths of genuine friendship.

Back to before friendship was staked out with a preset list of conditions, punctuated with an unstated, but clearly understood, need to out-do the other. Back to when we hung out because we had fun, and we couldn't wait to see each other again.

Okay, my dear blog friends, here's the truth. I am totally jealous of those who have had the same best friend since they were kids. They made a connection with each other back when you chose a friend who really was just that -your friend - no matter what.

Now, I am trying to not to let the 'whats' matter.

I want to cleanse myself from the toxins of past friendships gone bad. I want to be the kind of friend that others say good things about behind my back, I want to be the kind of friend that can have my friend over when I am wearing sweats and a dirty t-shirt. I want to be goofy, serious and weird with my friends (sometimes in the same day...)

And so here I am.

I've grown past the days of trying to impress others, hiding my insecurities and shallow conversations. And you know what? It's taken me this long to figure out what my little boy already knows. So to my friends now, I love you. And to the friends I have yet to meet - I can't wait to laugh with you.

See you on the playground.

The greatest song of all

The high of elation fills my spirit like a drug, causing my self to drift high above struggle, loneliness and preoccupation to please. Words of praise fill my head, swirling in the far reaches of my mind in a lustful embrace with ego. "This attention is what you desire," breathes my ego, "now you can start to feel worthy." My heart responds with an increased pace, as if willing my blood to fill the empty recesses of yesterday's hopes and today's failures.

But what goes up, must come down.

Isn't it incredible that for every handful of praise, it only takes one careless remark to reduce you to an attention-starved child? Blood's ribbon of red, which carried feelings of joy and satisfaction, is quickly reduced to a pool of purples and blues ~ bruised reminders of my blemishes, which are quickly hidden to conceal signs of weakness.

Joy is fleeting, leaving one to wonder if it truly exists at all.

"In your distress you called, and I rescued you....I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, open wide your mouth and I will fill it." (Psalm 81:7,10)

God is speaking, "My dear child, your successes are not your own."

Success is the work of God through me, and it is only through God that I can be truly satisfied in my work. And truly rewarded.

For His love cannot be taken away, recalled or muddied. My achievements are orchestrated by Him, and as He is the Almighty Conductor, my eyes must watch Him for direction.

For if I allow my eyes to wander or become distracted by the words of others, I lose track of His works. I am left with only an earthly melody, sidelined to the shadows of the greatest song of all.

So I hope to keep my eyes on my Conductor, trusting Him to lead me in a dance of the soul, allowing His spilled blood to fill my self with His unending joy ~ a melody that can never be forgotten or stripped of its glory. A song written just for me. I want to dance.

200!

God's blessings in my life continue. Where do you see your blessings?

201 - being linked to A Holy Experience website. I am so honoured, thrilled, excited, giddy...full of JOY! Thank you for joining me in this corner of the world...
202 - Medicine for my husband and little boy.
203 - sharing great news with friends
204 - surprise (and much needed) visit from mom
205 - walk to the park with two kids, two dogs, my mom and great conversation on a warm November day
206 - homemade chicken noodle soup
207 - having the courage to share my vulnerabilities and questions with my Godly brothers and sisters
208 - felt-traced outlines of my two children's bodies, and then having fun colouring them in.
209- homemade cookies brought by nana (made by uncle TJ)
210 - Saturday morning soccer fun with four-year olds
211 - candles burning on a dark November night
212 - time to play at the dogpark with Piper
213 - Snuggling under a warm comforter reading a great book
214 - Inspiring messages from Sunday's service
215 - friends who check in
216 - travel plans to Dubai (I still can't believe this one!)
217 - feeling God's love, especially today

Pause for thought

On Friday, while driving to skating lessons, I asked my son what he thought Jesus was doing right now. He looked out the van window, up into the sky and said "I think Jesus is making crafts right now." At four years old, my little man already understands Jesus' love for creating more than I do.

What do you think Jesus is doing right now?

tangled thoughts

"Mommy, play with my hair," whispers my tousled-hair daughter as she lays on her bed for her afternoon nap. I lay beside her, my body tense with pleading for her to go to sleep, so I can move on to the next thing. I tell her to lay on her side, stop fidgeting and close her eyes. She obeys and waits.

My right fingers reach out and carefully comb their way through her toddler hair, starting at her crown and ending at the nape of her neck. Her breathing soon shadows the rhythmic motion of my caress.


Such a simple request she makes of me, yet I simply cannot join her in her restfulness.

My mind continues at a frantic pace, fretting over tonight's dinner, yesterday's fights and tomorrow's worries. My eyes see peace in my resting daughter, but my heart feels turmoil. My should-haves are at constant war with my could-haves. My self lays bruised on the battlefield, infected with self-doubt and seething with frustration. Why does joy elude me so?

The current bible study I'm taking reminds me that "a truth-filled heart is so unnatural that we must pursue to have it." The following verse seems to written just for me: "Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad in all of our days" (Psalm 90:14).

Today my heart is heavy, but I hear the whisper of the Spirit reminding me to lay on my side, stop fidgeting and close my eyes. And pray. God will straighten out my tangles, caress my heart and soothe my soul. I obey and wait.