My walk with Jesus

I just came back from the most extraordinary walk with Jesus. Really.

It all began with my emotions. I was feeling hurt, let down, judged, left out and angry towards those closest to me. In an effort to put things into perspective, I got out my bible study and came across these words: "Those who refuse to see are hopelessly blinded to God's awesome power and apparent activity. What enemy are you battling today? First, invite God to come between you and your enemy. Second invite Him to open "the eyes of your heart" so that you will recognize Him at work (Eph. 1:18). Third, count on Jesus; He never fails." (A Woman's Heart, Beth Moore, p.34). After reading this, I said a prayer to Jesus asking Him to remove my hurts and open my eyes.

Then I glanced outside the window and noticed the sun was quickly setting. I felt an immediate urge to get out into the crisp winter air before it was taken over by darkness. I quickly grabbed my jacket, boots and was about to leash up my dog....when my four-year old came around the corner. "Mommy, are you going for a walk?" I hurriedly mumbled "yes", as I was anxious to get outside. "Can I come with you? Please! I promise I will keep up." My husband tried to convince our son to stay home, but there was no way of bargaining with our little man's pleading. I reluctantly told him to get his jacket and boots on, and together, we went out our front door.

All remnants of annoyance melted away the moment my boots imprinted the snow. It was like I entered another world. Snowflakes were gently falling, their pureness highlighted by the setting sun. My son's little gloved hand grabbed my worn leather glove, and together we walked our path.

We chatted about the snow and I led him to my favourite spot in the woods. We stood there marveling at the hoar-frost covering the trees. My son glanced at me and told me stick out my tongue and try to catch a snowflake. We stood, side by side, with our eyes closed and tongues out...giggling as we tasted God's beauty.

We continued along our path, my son the tour guide telling me which path we should take because he sees the map in his "hair" (read: head). Once we reached the wooden bridge, he told me we should hold hands and skip across it. I can't remember the last time I skipped along, but there we were, mother and child joyfully laughing side by side.

As we neared our house, he told me we were getting close to the treasure. I asked him where the treasure was, and he turned to me with his crimson red cheeks, grinning to show his chiclet teeth, and said "the treasure is HOME!"

I wish I could explain the joy I feel in my heart right now. I am filled with awe and wonder at Jesus's love for me. I am convinced that Jesus heard my prayers and was on that walk with me today showing His love for me through my little boy. I am so thankful my eyes were open to see Him.

Yes, I can count on Jesus. He never fails.

The ultimate parent

I suppose if I were in a better mood, I would have laughed instead of berating myself. But my inner tug of war between 'my time' and 'being a good mom' was in overtime. In the time it took for my son to squeeze onto my chair behind me, a strong dose of selfishness out-muscled any good intention of parenting I had left. 'My time' was gloating as I pushed my son out of my chair and shooed him out the office door. In the second it took to shut the door, all feelings of self-righteousness were quickly smothered by the ultimate champion: GUILT.

You may find it ironic that when my son interrupted me, I was reading an article online about 'the myth of the perfect parent'. Huh.

Just this afternoon, I was reading a book about listening to God. Really listening to God - through dreams, conversations with others, songs...the list is endless. And now I'm thinking, what is God trying to tell me about parenting? At this moment, I view parenting as exhausting, thankless, consuming, emotional, irrational and never-ending. I wonder how God feels about parenting me.

But, somehow, all this frustration is erased the moment I sit beside my babies, long after they've fallen asleep. I become mesmerized by their tiny chests moving to the rhythm of their breath, their long lashes finally resting after a day of sights, and the warmth of their cheeks as I nuzzle in close to whisper I love you's.

And then I know how God feels about parenting me.

Tonight, I pray that I feel him kneeling over me as I sleep - knowing that He's with me for every breath, that His endless vision guides my sight, and that His warm whispers of I love you take away any chill of doubt.

taken for granted

In light of the Haiti tragedy, I've been reflecting on the multitudes of gifts I have taken for granted. Today I offer my heartfelt thanks for:

351. The health of my family.
352. Clean water.
353. A home.
354. Fresh food.
355. Clean clothes.
356. Income.
357. My belief in God.
358. Prayers.
359. Transportation.
360. Doctors and specialists.
361. Pain relief medications.
362. Schools.
363. Showers.
364. Neighbours.
365. Heat.
366. Personal freedoms.
367. Governments to assist.
368. Oven, fridge, microwave, dishwasher, phone(s), computer(s), radio(s), television(s).
369. Cleaning supplies.
370. Bandages.
371. Waste disposal.
372. Books and crayons.
373. Smiles and giggles.
374. Beds and blankets.
375. Police.
376. Building codes.
377. Playtime.
378. My life.

Good mom

I shrieked when it happened. In an instant, thousands of pencil-eraser sized drops of white shoe polish were all over my kitchen. The tile floor, island countertop, dog dish, dishwasher, chairs - even the bruised bananas were all assaulted by the big-bang explosion. I stood, with the oozing polish applicator still in my hand, overwhelmed by the mess.

Then I began to panic. White polish, by design, stains. I hurriedly grabbed the tea towels out of the drawer, attempting to corral the pool of ink, but all I seemed to do was make a bigger mess.

I relented and went upstairs for reinforcements. My poor husband lay in our bed, blankets pulled tight over his fatigued body. He had called in sick to work early this morning. Wearily he opened his eyes as I approached the bedside. I must have been quite a site, as his eyes betrayed his sickness and cast a playful look at me. "What happened to you?" For the first time, I looked down at my shirt. The words good mom were splattered with ink, as if whited out by my own foolishness. I looked at my partner and said "I need you." Without hesitation, he rolled out of bed and joined me downstairs.

By now, my ever-helpful four-year old was examining the mess. "Oh....what did my sister do?!!" I could swear the tone in his voice was laced with a bit of awe. "No, little man, this was mommy's accident," I sheepishly said to him as we pulled out cloths and wipes. Soon little sister came clamoring down the stairs with her blankie and baby. While we all laboured on hands and knees, my daughter found a comfy spot on daddy's back to supervise our efforts. Square tile by square tile, we worked together. My mood became fouler by the scrub. What a waste of time. I'm going to give that polish company a call they'll never forget. I can't believe I did this...

Thankfully, my husband and son seemed to be immune to the effects of my brooding. My poor tired husband was on bended knee with our son, chatting about how many squares there were on the floor, where they should scrub next, who needs a clean cloth. For my boy, this was a family adventure. Time with mommy and daddy to do something together. Eventually, the mess was washed away - and life went on.

The kids went upstairs to play, husband went to rest and I retreated to the computer to type. I've yet to clean myself up. My arms are covered in tiny white-out specks, and I'm still wearing my t-shirt. But now it doesn't seem to be so ruined : maybe the best way to be a good mom is to acknowledge the mess and see the beauty behind it. Like my little man said when we finished "at least we now have clean floors." Indeed.

1000 gifts

351. Skating with my family on a warm Sunday afternoon.
352. Drawing up the courage to be in the moment while I learn to skate with hockey skates.
353. Watching an uncle cuddle with his niece.
354. Quiet moments to recall God's grace.
355. Dad who will travel to help with furnace wiring and offer kind words of support.
356. The persistance of my four-year old. No matter how many no's he hears, his spirit is never deterred. I should learn from him...
357. God's circles in my life.
358. Getting our van back from the repair shop!
359. Vows to remind me that love permeates all darkness and suffering.
360. My daughter throwing her pink blankie in the air and asking me to watch her catch it. Over and over. Such simple joy.
361. A dog who keeps me company at all hours.
362. Fridge full of fresh food.
363. Second chances.
364. Watching my kids praise our dog.
365. Being able to stay home today.
366. For my health and my family's health.
367. My mom watching and loving my kids.
368. My mom braiding my little girl's hair, just like she used to do with mine.

commercial success?

So tonight I sat in front of the TV, sprawled out on my couch with my comfy clothes on and my fruit smoothie (New Year's plan to eat well...) in hand. I've been trying to be attentive lately of the influencers in my life, and making a conscious effort to renounce ill holds on me. So today I paid attention to what was on my tv...more specifically, I paid attention to what tv was trying to sell me.

Here's a rundown of the commercials that vied for my attention in the order they appeared:

1. An advertisement for a show based on the premise where a model is killed in an accident then is reincarnated into the body of a size 16 girl. She awakes in the hospital says "why do I feel bloated?" and then screams when she realizes her body size.
2. ET Canada promoting 'the good, the bad and the ugly' upcoming edition of Survivor. Mary Hart chimes in with the lead to their next show "dramatic weight loss, people who are half their previous size".
3. An ad depicting a happy family of mother, daughter and grandma on a roadtrip singing happy songs until the grandmother changes the radio station. She's then kicked out of the car and left at the side of the road while they have a new grandma join the family in the car. The tagline is "try out a few different moms and get all the mothering you need this cold and flu season".
4. Movie ad about a father enlisting the help of a scientist to develop a cure for his sick daughter. The tagline "don't hope for a miracle, make one".
5. An advertisement for nutella promoted by a mom telling me that she feels good starting her kids day with nutella as part of a nutritious breakfast. Then they tell me to "spread some energy"
6. A yard gnome sitting on the couch in the winter staring at a tv image of a beach humming to himself that "I need to get out of here". The promoters tell me that this travel company is the "cure for cabin fever."
7. Wendy's sweet and spicey boneless chicken advertised with the tagline "you know when it's real"
8. A man laying in a pile of debris, exclaiming to his dog their lives were saved by a miracle, a man sitting beside him is holding a plate of brocolli and tells him the real miracle is all the nutrients packed into a head of brocolli. Tagline: the miracle food.
9. TV network telling me they are on twitter so now I can get the latest information and gossip on the stars.
10. Meteorologist warning me about snow in Toronto.

Now I'm going to be honest, I am a professionally trained public relations practitioner with experience working with not-for-profits, government and church organizations. And maybe that's why I pay attention to the commercials, to the product they are trying to sell me.

Most times, it's not the product they are selling ~ it's the feeling: acceptance, security, confidence, (instant) gratification, uniqueness, preparedness, self-worth, notoriety, praise. Very alluring, very appealing to our fragile egos (including mine).

And it works. We feel so desperate to get our fix, to get something that will make us feel at peace. We are hungry.

And the good news - there is fruit that can satisfy our hunger. The fruit of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

These are the influences that I am searching for, these are the ones I want to buy into. These fruits cannot be grown on an organic farm, priced on the shelf, or wrapped up in an organza bow. But they can be harvested in my heart, from the seeds of the Creator himself.

And that's something I can buy into.

With my life.

God-sized dreams

With a new year, comes a new start. Three days into January and I am still searching for what it is I really want to break free from, turn towards, and become. The word become lingers in my mind, its essence whispering to my soul. Become. Become. Become.

Become is heavy with responsibility, weighted by my past failures and shackled by excuses. Become a better friend. Become a better wife. Become a better mother. Become a better child of God. Without even trying, my goal of become is paralyzed by can'ts, won'ts and why bothers. No wonder my resolutions fall short year after year.

But this year seems different. For the first time in my life, I am recognizing that become is less about me setting and treking towards another goal.

God, in all His amazing power and glory, has found a way to simplify things for me, His struggling daughter. I hear Him whisper: "Be. Come."

Be. Be? Be! But how can I just be? Don't I need to be going somewhere? Doing something? How can I just BE? My mind begins reeling - plotting, planning...

"Come," He whispers again. The sweet sense of peace permeates my self, soothing my worries, calming my racing heart. Come. Yes, Lord, I want to come. I want you to lead me. I want you to have the plan. I'm tired of leading myself in circles. Yes, I will come. But how?

Then I begin to understand. My eyes gaze up to my bulletin board where a yellow church bulletin rests. I pluck the paper and begin to read: Transfiguration Sunday, February 22, 2009: Treasures and Hearts. The reading on the back has been marked by my blue pen: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or drink; or about your body, what you will wear...who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?...But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore I tell you, do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about itself." (Matthew 6:25,27,33,34)

So this is my God-sized dream: Be. Come.

I will be in the moment, celebrating child-like faith. I will watch how easily joy comes to my children and see God's plan in the present. And through this, I will enjoy being a friend, wife, mother and child of God. I will be thankful and purposeful in seeing God's hand in my life.

I will come to the Lord daily, through my prayers and actions. I will come to Him for joy, love, faith and strength. And when the darkness of worry, anger, disappointment, defeat and stress begin to shadow my resolve, He will lead me past the darkness and shower me with his Being.

I rejoice in becoming His.


**I'm linking up with (in)courage and A Holy Experience where we are sharing our God-inspired stories.

New Year's gifts

331. A new year. New beginnings. Fresh Start.
332. Family.
333. Daughter's kisses
334. Son's enthusiasm
335. Sleepy Saturday mornings.
336. Knowing we can afford a large grocery trip.
337. Quiet moments with husband.
338. Heart to heart conversations with the love of my life.
339. Knowing I am loved (I just need to work on believing it...)
340. A marriage based on respect.
341. A clean and tidy home (at least for today!)
342. Feeling my daughter's breath on my cheek as she sleeps.
343. Big windows to let the sun peer in.
344. Having a second vehicle while our van is in the shop (even if we look like the Shrine circus clowns all piled into it :)
345. Watching my daughter giggle as she plays with our dog.
346. Knowing that my kids are God's personalized gifts to me and my husband.
347. A day free from have-to's...
348. Getting tickets to Beth Moore's video simulcast in April (I know it's far away, but I am super excited about this!)
349. Learning more about talking with God.
350. That my kids know who Jesus is ... and with God's grace, we will continue to grow with Him.