thankful

Thanksgiving is one of my favourite holidays. It is a socially-accepted day where people around me give themselves permission slow down. It is a day when my family takes a break from the sprint of life and we allow ourselves to fall back into a mindset of simplicity. The expectations of the day are simple: turkey, family and laughter.  This holiday is more about presence and less about presents.

In preparation for this year's Thanksgiving, I wanted to teach my children (and most importantly myself) the importance of having an attitude of gratitude. We have been making thankfulness a deliberate part of our everyday lives.

At the beginning of October, we started a thanksgiving list. Each evening at dinner, we all share what we are thankful for and then post the note on the door. The kids have also made a point of asking their grandparents what is on their thankful list, so we can add their note to our door.

For the broader part of my family, this year I decided to try a recipe from here. As you may have surmised from my past posts, I have not been gifted with the passion for cooking/baking. But I decided to take a chance with the fickle nature of yeast and prepare Thanksgiving Buns (with the safety net of knowing Safeway was only a five minute drive away if things went bad!) To add to the Thanksgiving theme, I printed numbered thankful statements on paper and rolled the cut strip of paper in each bun. On Thanksgiving, we all took turns reading the statements and sharing our gratitude with each other. I couldn't have been happier with the result (side note, if I can bake these - anyone can!).

This weekend, I also took time to be present in the moment. This is extremely difficult for me, as I have a very anxious mindset: my mind is always racing. But I managed to pause a few times this weekend - and my soul feasted on these moments:
1375. Daughter and son jumping into a leaf pile.

1376. Son enjoying cold water from the hose on a warm fall day.

1377. Playing 'just dance 3' on the x-box with my son.

1378. Facetime conversations with grandparents living in BC.

1379. My mama's amazing cheeseball.

1380. Grace led by my dad.

1381. Uncle playing duct tape wars with my son.

1382. Seeing my aunt and uncle at all family gatherings.

1383. Surprise visit from my cousin.

1384. Watching Lord of the Rings with my husband (a fall tradition for us)

1385. Walking through the wetlands.

1386. Healthy kids.

1387. A son who wants to bake with me.

1388. Sunlight streaming through the window. This always mesmerizes me.

1389. Mom who always makes lots of turkey so I can steal some for my turkey soup.

1390. Husband who understands me.

1391. Father who shows his little girl how to fix things.

1392. Son's toothy grin.

1393. Daughter's love of swings.

Continuing my list of thanks...join other joy-seekers here.

taking time

Taking time to receive His gifts...

1331. Sick days to recharge.
1332. Hurried mornings with kids.
1333. Daughter's baby bear sitting in her carseat "to be safe" until I pick her up from daycare.

1334. Dog who eats morning cheerios that spilled all over the carpet.
1335. Boy who can make his own breakfast - but not too big yet that he needs mommy to help clean up the mess. XOXO
1336. Waking up in the night to grab my little girl and bring her into my room. Totally selfish on my part - but my heart needed it.
1337. Nana and Papa who watch and play with their grandchildren.
1338. Turkey dinner with all the trimmings because it's a Sunday. Thanks mama.
1339. Watching my husband play a sport he loves.
1340. Candles and cozy blankets.
1341. curling up to sleep under a fluffy duvet blanket.
1342. Watching daughter run down a soccer field. Such joy in her eyes.
1343. Oatmeal muffins in the oven.
1344. Hearing the words "I love you mommy" everyday.
1345. Husband's smile.
1346. Dog who follows me around the house.
1347.An extra paycheque.
1348. Reminders to rest.
1349. A beautiful, warm fall season.
1350. Watching the miracle of pregnancy develop with my two sisters.
1351. Just because love notes.
1352. My son's two grown up teeth.
1353. Son drawing whipped cream happy face on pumpkin pie.

pausing in thanks to receive His giving...

Reflecting on the gifts my heart received this weekend of Thanksgiving...

1321.

1322.

1323.

1324.

1325.

1326.

1327.

1328.

1329.

1330.

treasure

"Don't let go, okay mommy?"

My little man pleads these words out of his pursed lips as the tips of his toes balance him on his shiny red BMX bike.  The wobbly movements on the steel frame match the wobbly knees of a boy who is breaking free of training wheels, ready to blaze his own path on his own terms. I grip the back of his shirt in my fist, holding tight to the little boy I used to hold tight to my chest.

He's ready now. He scoots forward with his toes tapping the black asphalt, one leg hesitantly lifting, searching for the black pedal while his body leans left, then right....I hold on....

His other foot now finds the back pedal and he balances strong, propelling himself forward...he gains speed, confidence....and I let go...

My vision is blurred with tears as I shout "you're doing it baby!! You're doing it!!" He rides down the street, while his daddy, sister and mommy shriek in pure delight. Praise to a boy who overcame his fear of falling, praise to a boy who pushes his limits and praise to a boy who fills my heart with so much joy.

There have been many boundaries pushed, expanded and redrawn this week for my little six-year old.

A new big-boy room where hockey heros replaced somersaulting bunnies and a giant tree. The yellow bus now carries my boy to his full day adventures in Grade One, and I get to relive his day as he recounts the recess games, music class musical chairs and colouring projects. I get lost in his story-telling, loving the way his th's sound like zaaa's and the way his big gap-toothed smile melts my heart.

I want to take it all in and remember these details forever.

"Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart" Luke 2:19, NIV

Today I ponder my treasure that has been gifted to me by God...
1301. Mama learning to let go, and boy who can now fly on his bike.
1302. Handy husband who created a hanging bed for our boy's room.
1303. Boy who delights in using his money to buy candy from the store, and shares his bounty with everyone (including the neighbours)
1304. Grandparents who create magic in a bike ride.
1305. Daughter who always puts her underwear on inside out.
1306. Husband who has life in his eyes.
1307. Floating down the river with my boy and his uncles.
















1308. Winding our way through a cornmaze.
1309. Daughter who always gives me morning cuddles.
1310. Beautiful last days of summer.
1311. Healthy kids who love to laugh.
1312. Grape hubba-bubba and blowing giant bubbles.
1313. New classroom and his very own desk.
1314. Chocolate ice-cream covered faces.




















1315. Outdoor movie nights with friends.
1316. Husband's gift of balancing our finances.
1317. Uncle who is under doctor's watch.
1318. New clothes for school.
1319. Travel plans for me and husband.
1320. For this day.

Join me in counting your blessings?

childish love

Feeling especially thankful for my kids today...

1284. Big, long-limbed son climbing into my lap.
1285. Giggling at my daughter's description of "mixed trails" (trail mix)
1286. Son's gap-toothed smile.
1287. Freshly bathed kids who smell like soap.
1288. Lop-sided pigtails in my daughter's hair.
1289. Book reading requests from my kids.
1290.Being silly with my son.
1291. Calling for mommy over and over and over :)
1292. Lego games with my son.
1293. Marvelling at six-year old son eating three chicken thighs, scoops of corn and five perogies, full glass of milk and a piece of peanut butter-honey toast. (and recalling how much I could eat as a child).
1294. "negotiating" time with my daughter.
1295. Daughter s-l-o-w-l-y eating her dinner at the table (one day, I'm sure, I'll miss this)
1296. Daughter asking me to cuddle her on the couch.
1297. Daughter slumped over heavy as she sleeps in her carseat.
1298.Daughter telling me that she loves me and that I love her back.
1299. Voice memos left by the kids on my phone.
1300.Daughter promising me that she'll love me forever and ever and ever.

fears and breadcrumbs

I've felt myself slipping lately.

Sleepless nights compounded with a frantic, hectic schedule leave me red-faced and panting, trying to keep up. Life is on speed, racing around the corners of the calendar without so much as a glance back to me. I am caught in the details, bogged down in a mess of anxieties. My attention has been sabotaged by the worries of today - those clever little woulda coulda shouldas have ripped my sight down, hard, inwards, to the ugliness of my inadequacies.

What if the very worst that people thought about me was true? Worse yet, what if the very worst I thought about myself was true? 

As knower of all my transgressions, by thought or action, I know the darkness that greedily feeds on my fears. This dangerous terrain of consciousness that knows no limits of space or time, sleep nor wakefulness, seeds of thought or full-bloomed action... where can I go to find refuge from myself?

I've conditioned myself that my fears are warnings to be heeded, that I need to protect myself. I need to act responsibly to make sure I won't can't be hurt by others. So I build walls. At first these walls were to keep people out so they couldn't hurt me. But now the walls are closing in, and I am the one who is kept away from others. I read a reminder today that asked "do my defences keep me safe, or do they isolate me?" Isolation and fear are a dangerous, toxic combination. I am gasping for air.

Like the fable of Hansel and Gretel, God has left me bread-crumbs to show me the way back home. Unlike the story, these breadcrumbs lie undisturbed, waiting for me - with no other agenda but to show me the way back to safety, to home. He has intentionally placed them in my sight, encouraging me to move towards His nourishment and away from my mind's prison. My focus is on His promise that I - who is torn, battered, bruised and deeply flawed - am made perfect through His grace. He continually whispers to my soul that everything will be fine, hang on, help is on the way, stay strong, trust that He is taking care of everything. His truth speaks clearly: I. AM. HERE.

I continue to grab handfuls of His breadcrumbs that He has left especially for me...

1262. Support meetings.
1263. Getting stronger.
1264. Mama who watches my babies.
1265. Waking up to thunderstorms.
1266. Drawings from my daughter.
1267. Son's excitement over another loose tooth.
1268. Knowing that even on my weakest days I get a bit stronger.
1269. The scent of rain.
1270. Watching my garden grow.
1271. Hope.
1272. God's faith in me.
1273. Telling myself I'll be okay.
1274. Family trip to amusement park with my best cousins.
1275. Kudos from my boss.
1276. Lunches at the picnic table by the pond.
1277. Vacation plans with my husband.
1278. Kissing my sleeping children's warm cheeks before I go to bed.
1279. Watching my son play hockey again.
1280. Laughter that comes so easy to my kids.
1281. Freshly washed sheets.
1282. Fresh flowers on my table.
1283. God-inspired words.

in thanks

Today I am most thankful for fresh starts. Knowing that there is always an opportunity to start over, to bow down humbly in apology, and to know that the other doesn't have to do anything with it - because He has heard it, and my soul's burden is lifted because I know the truth and sincerity behind the words I messily offer - to that person, to God and to myself.

I thank God for gifting me with sunrises to remind me of rebirth, a fresh day and the freedom to light up the dark skies with the unmistakable first break of light. And tonight I am so incredibly thankful that God has led me to this point where I can let go of past mistakes, bask in His grace, and breathe deep knowing that it's never too late.

pausing to notice

The rain falls its steady drops outside my bedroom window. It's late and the house is quiet, except for the occasional brushing of the blinds against the sage green walls.  I lie still under the white duvet, tucked in and waiting for sleep to take me over. My thoughts are heavy and my spirit weary, as I whisper thanks to my Father. I yawn loud and roll over to face the window. Cleansing rain lulls me to sleep, its sweet scent washing over my senses as I breathe the moment in deep...

Continuing my list of thanks...

1239. Healthy children - there seems to be so many children (and consequently, their parents) suffering. God be with them.
1240. Big grin on my son as he scores his soccer goals.
1241. Daughter who chats non-stop with me.  These times are precious.
1242. Husband who is patient with me.
1243. Letting down walls.
1244. New car smell.
1245. Clipping fresh parsley out of my garden.
1246. Going outside of my comfort zone.
1247. Reminders of nature's wild side.
1248. Dental coverage.
1249. Hearing my daughter sing herself to sleep.
1250. Emergency service workers.
1251. Children who want to snuggle.
1252. My mama's homemade macaroni salad. Mmmmmm...thank goodness for leftovers!
1253. Lint rollers (dog hair is everywhere!)
1254. An evening out with my cousin. Great conversation.
1255. Falling asleep to rain.
1256.The hum of the dishwasher.
1257. Charting my daughter's growth on the wall.
1258. My job.
1259. Reminders of what God wants me to work on.
1260. Walking my dog. Quiet time to think and say nothing.
1261. Answered prayers!

Join me in counting your blessings?

letting go

Well, hello there! Long time, no chat. I have been MIA for five weeks, f-i-v-e weeks...and the truth is, I've really missed hanging out here. But more importantly, my soul has missed being here. As in, here, the now, in thanksgiving. Too often as of late, I've been wrestling my will away from His will - caught up in my own ambitions {wanting to prove to myself that I deserve the title at my new job}, goals {getting my life, house and finances in order} and schedules {between daycare, dadcare, momcare, schoolcare and soccercare}. Excuses are plenty, but the reality remains - I've drifted away from my anchor. But now that I've reached the end of my rope, He's tugging me back. I'm too exhausted to swim anymore. I grab hold of His lifeline and make the journey back, hand over hand, deliberately moving towards safety.

I remember boating with my dad at my cousin's lake. We had a seahawk inflatable that we would tow behind the boat. At the ripe age of 13, I remember sprawling my bony knees over each of the seahawk's puffed up wings, and white-knuckle grip the handles tight. I remember the sound of the waves lapping against the boat's fibreglass as dad would look over his shoulder and call out if I was ready. All I could do was nod, and then he put the boat in gear. The seahawk's nose would point stubbornly up at the sky as the boat's speed picked up and I would crest above the waves. Now safe in the wake of the boat, I glided giddily atop the white-freckled water. Dad always joked that I was too light to dump in the water. Turn after turn, I goaded Dad on as I became more prideful in my "technique" of riding the seahawk. But an adolescent's arrogance is no match for a father who understands physics. 

We called it cracking the whip. And I always saw it coming.

Dad would head into a wide turn with the boat, then double back the other way so the waves from the two wakes would create a torrent of rapids. Then he would slow down, just enough to put slack in the rope, then punch it. I could literally hear the rope snap to attention, almost in slow motion, as the slack whistled heavy and pulled hard. It was in this moment, as I watched the inevitable lesson in whiplash come my way, that I had to decide...stay on or let go.

My ego inevitably convinced the rational side of me that this time I could hold on and make it through the whip and waves. And again and again, my ego abandoned the seahawk mid-flight as the handles were torn right out from my grip, and my face would slap hard into the water and I'd drink at least a week's supply of water before rising to the surface of the lake.

(not me, but you get the idea)

I would always look for dad, and he'd come circling around in our blue and white boat, with a big grin on his face - always asking the same question: had enough? I'd sheepishly pull myself up over the side of the boat and claim my towel as I sat shivering on the cracked blue plastic seats.

My father knew what only experience could teach me - my limits. And again, my Godly father is offering the same lesson - know my limits - and  know that God will always be there to rescue me (and like my father, I'm sure, marvel at the air I achieved on the last wipeout...)

Today, my limits aren't as obvious as slack in a rope, but I can still feel the anxiety when I'm faced with the decision to white-knuckle it, or get back in the boat.

Today, I want to get back in the boat with my Father. Then I know we'll both be smiling- and on the right side of the water...

In continuation with celebrating the gifts God has placed in my life;

1212. singing both my children to sleep, and watching as their eyes flutter to sleep. Marvelling at how perfectly God matched us up. I am so blessed.
1213. Watching my daughter play on her very first soccer team. And watching her big brother celebrating the goals and being the other "coach".
1214. Quiet time to read with my husband, outside in the sun under the pergola.
1215. Dinner with family.
1216. Movie night out with just our little family.
1217. Real conversations.
1218. Great memories of my daddy.
1219. A job that God led me to, and me being smart enough to follow (at least this time!)
1220. Growing our very first garden.
1221. Seeing the miracle of seeds pushing mass amount of soil away, reaching for the light...
1222. Plans to go camping this summer (and great friends who are loaning us their tent trailer, so very grateful!)
1223. Hearing the kids' laughter outside as they have summer-infused playtime.
1224. Having a great friend at work.
1225. Clean bed sheets.
1226. Season's first corn on the cob.
1227. Hard belly laughs that cause me to cry.
1228. Dreaming of world travel with my husband.
1229. Reminders that God is here.
1230. Learning lessons.
1231. Son who sings me songs.
1232. Daughter who makes me drawings at daycare.
1233. A daycare that I feel comfortable with and that my kids enjoy (quite a feat, if you ask me!)
1234. Grass under my toes.
1235. The scent of lilacs.
1236. My mama who takes my daughter to dance class every week.
1237. Raspberry bushes from grandparent's back yard.
1238. Daughter who snuggles close as she sleeps.

Care to join me in giving thanks?

quiet time

The sun is playing peek-a-boo through the white curtains while the windows let out a long exhale as our winter-worn house is refreshed by the cool spring breeze.

Rugs are vacuumed, counters boast a crumb-free shine and daughter sleeps content on top of her wrinkled blanket. Little man is navigating the city while checking off the errand list with his daddy.

Quiet moments whisper life to my soul. 

I am thankful for time to listen to my own breath as it moves through me. I am thankful for moments I can dive into, rather than rush past. I am thankful for now and so much more...

1188. Hearing the birds sing.
1189. Daughter snuggling close to me.
1190. Watching movies.
1191. Easter egg dipping with kids and family.

1192. Son who bows down to kiss the cross (he did this on his own at the Good Friday service, my heart pounded with joy).
1193. Hearing my son explain to his little sister that Good Friday is good because Jesus died to save us from the "bad guys".
1194. Down time.
1195. Colouring with Grandma.
1196. Feeling content.
1197. Plans for summer.
1198. New Easter dress and bonnet for my baby girl.
1199. Easter plans with family.
1200. God in my life.
1201. Lovely people to work with.
1202. Knowing the truth.
1203. Standing tall.
1204. Drawings from my children.
1205. Seeing grass again!
1206. Clean water to drink.
1207. Listening to daughter's bathtime stories.
1208. Giggling with my son as he tells me he speaks "whine" (for daughter's cranky days).
1209. Son telling me that he really likes sports (and listening to him describe how he wants his room to look).
1210. Watching daughter play on her backyard swing. So content.
1211. Son's chalkboard drawings for Spring.

PBJ with a side of grace

Three elements glow hot on the sauce-splattered stovetop while my patience grows thin. I am down to dinner idea number three, thanks to a shortage of tomato soup and ready-mix sauce that I swore was in the wire-ladden pantry. I rush, flustered, to the computer in search of a recipe to whip this dinner into order. Tummies are empty and the day runs long. I scramble to mix a little bit of this with a splash of that, all the while half-listening to my son tell me about his Lego conquests while I mumble frustration with myself.

Daughter leans heavy on the countertop and the unmistakable sound of shattering glass commands our attention. The plate lays broken in a myriad of pieces while daughter falls to pieces with tears. I shout angry and the door slams heavy to her room. The pasta sauce now bubbles thick, cheese bits glommed together in  an awkward union.  Dinner idea number three is ruined; three stikes, I'm out. My tears now join my daughter's as we both tantrum like children.

But grace is made especially for the undeserving - and this night, my son shows me grace. He sets the table quietly and then bounds up the stairs.

Within a few moments, his six-year old arms are juggling homemade cards, drawings and colourful flowers. He smiles broadly and tells me he is "decorating the table with his accessories". He walks proudly over to the table and arranges love onto the table. I inhale his grace and pull out a loaf of bread.

While he places the candle at the centre of the table, I spread peanut butter and jam thick. I gather up daughter, wipe her tears and join my son at the table. He leans over and asks me if I feel better. I grasp his hand and hold tight, "Thank you, for you, my boy. You make Mommy's heart happy." We all join hands and thank God for His presence. Son takes a bite of his sandwich and grins large while saying "This is the best supper, ever."

Amen to that.

Among the midst of bread crumbs and shattered glass, I take inventory of God's graces on me:
1170. A boy who can see my heart.
1171. Daughter who needs mommy's cuddles.
1172. Family to help with childcare.
1173. Fitting in at my new job.
1174. Lowering my expectations and increasing my joy.
1175. The ear-to-ear grin of my son while he plays hockey.

1176. Hearing my son's name announced on the hockey PA system.
1177. SKOR chocolate bars.
1178. Income.
1179. Hugging my son tight.
1180. A clean house (for the moment!)
1181. The sound of ice melting outside.
1182. Hearing my friend's voice from the other side of the world.
1183. Not having to know the answers.
1184. Ice cubes in my water.
1185. Dining out.
1186. Freshly washed sheets.
1187. Help around the house.