life in the fast lane

It's sweltering near 30'C as we drive with open windows and hearts along the five laned I5, on our way to western coast adventures. Our kids are riding in style with Lady Wanda and Duke in their bright red convertible. I watch the hands poking through the sunroof with a wave as we travel close behind. 

I see my daughter's newly cut hair flying behind her as she shares endless stories with her her captive audience. A plastic blue bird can be seen flying between the generations as Lady Wanda plays pretend with her grand daughter's newest McDonalds treasure. My husband is enjoying an uninterrupted segment on his podcast while I have a rare quiet chance to reflect and write. 

This trip has been planned for seven months and we are now realizing our intentions. This morning we awoke to a panoramic view of lush mountain valley in chilliwack and tonight we will fall asleep to the fresh ocean scent in Astoria.  We are blessed to share this family chapter with fellow adventure seekers who exemplify the role of grandparents. 

A piece of my family is on this trip too.  As I type I am listening to my childhood camping song list of Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. We are following the same blue lines on a map as my parents did with the truck and camper when I was eight years old.  I recall a feeling of safety and excitement from decades ago. Memories of chicken by the ocean and my dad hiding my sandals on the coastal beach are withdrawn from my memory bank. I smile because it is now my turn to gift this experience to my children. 

These are days to remember. 

beauty

Dear daughter,

Today I saw a video that made me cry. This video, which is part of an advertising campaign for Dove, was posted just three days ago, and it already has over 4.7 million views.

The concept is simple: women were asked to describe the way they look. The results were powerful...and sadly, not surprising.



You see, my innocent one, sometime...and it will be much too soon...someone will tell you that you are not beautiful enough. This someone will be a friend, a stranger or, much more likely, a nameless girl you see in a magazine. You will begin to notice that you don't have the shiny hair that she has, or the cute perfect nose, or the bouncy breasts that all the boys are talking about. You'll feel too tall, too thin, too round, too blotchy, too limp, too awkward, too plain, too marked. This breaks my heart.

Today I conducted my own experiment. I sat down with you and asked you to describe yourself. Your adorable five year old language and giggles warmed my heart as I drew your picture. I asked you what you thought about your eyes. You told me that they are blue. I asked what you liked about your eyes. You told me that they can "see good". I asked about your hair. You told me it was long, blondish and brownish and that you can do ponytails, braids and wear a toy seahorse in it. You said your bangs are "sort of awesome, but seriously they get long all the time". You said your nose is awesome and it's for smelling, and that you like your ears because they help you hear. I asked you what your favourite part of your face was and you answered your eyes because you like seeing, your nose because you like smelling, your ears because you like hearing and your mouth because you like saying ridiculous.

You were laughing the whole time and enjoying the conversation. You laughed at my drawing and drew your nose bigger so it showed your nostrils. You loved talking about your body and you focused on purpose of being rather than perversion of view.

You are where I am working so hard to be. You see no fault, no judgement - only purpose. I want to hold you, keep you at this understanding forever. Because, you my dear daughter, are reflecting radiating your true self. And nothing can be more beautiful.

I love you and all that you are.

Mommy.

thankful

Today I got to visit my best friend.

She is only in town for a few days and it meant the world to me to see her now. I find life's timing so intuitive...the ebbs of bad days offset by a trickle of good. And my dear friend is so good for me.

We met 16 years ago, our friendship formed through conversations in noisy college hallways and over build-your-own sandwiches in the cafeteria. Our adventures included tiaras, boy bands, Maylong weekend camping and chugs of straight rye before heading out on the town. She stood by me on my wedding day and stood by me when my world was crumbling down.

Our friendship now spans a nine hour time difference from my side of the world to hers. But today - today, I got to see her smile, touch her hand and throw my head back and laugh with her. I love that our friendship is real and it doesn't matter when or where we meet - even if it's waiting in line for medical appointments. She is my lifeline and her very self infuses me with grace, love and acceptance.

We don't waste time with idle matters such as the weather or what we are wearing. We dive fast, deep and intentional into the heart matters. The stuff we are told not to talk about when someone asks how you are doing. Truth is a constant in this friendship, it is what tethers us together, no matter the time or distance.

I am thankful for my soul sister and for the gift that she is.

growth

This past weekend I was at a hockey game, on a mission to find the lone water fountain in a arena that seats tens of thousands to quench my non-pop drinking son's thirst (caused by fist-fulls of salty, scratchy popcorn shovelled into his mouth). A familiar face caught my gaze and I paused, searching my memory for his name. He said hi, and his girlfriend popped into my mind's focus. I knew them from my college basketball years. How long has it been? My mind was reeling through years of memories until it settled on 17. Seventeen years?!? We chatted briefly, as long ago friends do, talking about the hockey game, and catching the 30 second update on each others' lives. And then we waved goodbye and continued along our chosen paths.

As I filled up the water bottle, I was transported back to the girl I used to be. Layers of lessons and experience were peeled back to reveal a girl who longed for a place to belong. A big smile on the outside was all I could do to convince others that I was content - but it didn't work. My walk was set to shoulders curved inward, my shyness directed my eyes downwards, my clothes hung loosely on my awkward frame and my words were mumbled so as not to stand out. I had just started dating the only boy who had ever called me his. My days were spent attending classes that I had no idea where they led (I hadn't figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up), and my evenings were filled with basketball drills, running shoes and blue and white coloured jerseys and following other's directions. I was unknown - especially to myself.

When I came back to my seat, I told my husband (the boy who loved that girl all those years ago) that I ran into our old friends. He said he saw them too. Later that night I asked my husband if he thought I was different from those first years of college. He leaned over and told me that I have changed.

He said I have grown into myself. 

I pulled out an old picture of me. 

And I see it. I have changed. I no longer search for my place, or wonder about my worth. The experience of the past seventeen years has evolved that awkward eighteen-year-old girl into the God-loving woman I am today. I now know that I serve a purpose and that I am part of a greater plan that I have a role in. No imitations or impersonations - God loves me  - despite my faults, weaknesses and mistakes. I've grown to love me too.

This post was inspired by Emily.

hunger

"Give us this day our daily bread... " I must have muttered this line from the Lord's Prayer hundreds of thousands of times over my lifetime.

Most times, I'm ashamed to admit, the words fell off my tongue; tasteless and one-dimensional with barely a digestible thought.

But I haven't been speaking the words, I have only been reciting them. I haven't tasted the words, I've only seen them. I hadn't thought about the words, I simply said them.

These simple words "give us this day our daily bread" mean more than simply surviving. Where I have only understood the bread to mean literal food and sustenance that God will provide, I am finally beginning to understand the breadth of this statement, and the words Jesus spoke later: "Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God."

What I have discovered is this - my soul has been starving. I have not been feeding my soul its daily bread. God has been presenting me this soul-saving bread every day, wrapped in a moment created just for my soul to feast on, but I have been too bloated with distractions to notice.

But God is patient. His mouth breathes life into my soul, resuscitating it from the paralysis of indifference. The aroma of God's bread is powerful, sweet and nurturing.  God's homemade soul food comes ready to eat and without the need for preservatives. I don't have to store it away for later, as this is the only food that never runs out. 

Lately God has been super-sizing my portions, like my mom used to do when I was going through my growth spurts. I am ready for seconds and thirds and somedays, fourths. I can feel God smiling on me, pouring His spirit into my emptiness. 

This past week has been weary, but like chicken soup, God has been serving remedies to strengthen me, from the inside out. The menu has included: 

...my daughter reading her favourite book to me while I was getting ready for work. I greedily ate up every word that her perfect little voice formed, right down to the soft "l" lisps that passed through her lips. 

...my husband speaking my love language to me. His actions fill me with grace.

...my son asking me to rub his back so he can fall asleep. The reminder that I am needed has such a restorative power.

...quiet, candlelit moments. Even if it means sending the kids upstairs to watch tv so my husband and I can dine on take-out Chinese food.

Thank you for this daily bread.