Do you allow your children to eat cookie dough?
And I eat it too!
I like the dough better than the baked cookies!
How about you?
Are you doughy?
My mom died just over two years ago.
My dad has not been a part of our daily life in the last nine months.
My life and the daily rhythm of my brood of boys has changed drastically over the last two years. The two people that played such a significant part in their lives, are now gone.
Gone without understanding or knowing.
Disappeared from our presence but not from our thoughts or our hearts.
We cannot pretend to understand another’s grief.
We can only sit with them in acceptance for wherever they are.
We cannot judge.
We can only be.
Last Thursday, after much personal work with a beautiful counsellor, we decided to leave Papa’s slippers outside the door.
A symbol of welcoming.
In hopes that he will soon return.
To our daily life.
With his arms always loaded with fun things to do and great gifts to eat.
With his joyful laughter and silly stories.
Our door is always open to you Papa!
We don’t understand.
But we love!
With open hearts.
Your slippers are waiting Papa!
When you desire a culture of honour and have the privileged to see it face-to-face, it is humbling.
Win or lose.
Good or bad.
It gives freedom.
It shows respect.
It is empowering.
It involves healthy discipline not punishment.
Culture of honour for me is thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
My CC, was able to sit in a circle of honour last weekend.
Surrounded by warrior athletes, who sacrifice to help their team become its best year after year.
They are led by their empowering coach, my coach from many years ago when I played Varsity volleyball.
Despite losing last weekend’s match, my son was welcomed into the fold to stretch, hangout and be amongst these warrior women and coaches.
I am reading this amazing book as I seek honour.
With my Sexy Neck.
With my boys.
With my family.
With my friends.
In my community.
Within my business.
Culture of honour.
Honouring myself, which honouring every person who comes across my path.
I fell in love with a car!
Way back in 2001.
I had the great privilege to commute with an amazing group of human beings to a small outlying “VIlle” to teach. I taught thirty-three grade six and seven students and had a third of the school in my class, even though there were 6 teachers on staff. The school was declining in size! I was fortunate to learn many new things, fall in love with my students and the staff and find my dream car.
Is it weird that I had never had a dream car before?
Is is strange that my dream was a van?
Perhaps, God knew about the brood of boys that were coming into our life six years later.
I have fallen in love with how he prepares me for “events” in my life.
Day by day.
Person by person.
Story by story.
In 2001, we commuted in a brand, spanking new 2001 grey Honda Odyssey. On those 5:45am pick-ups, this vehicle was luxury. With its captain seats and personal water bottles, I thought that I had it made! And that was how my dream was created.
I would own a 2001 Honda Odyssey.
Ten years later, in 2011, we decided to look for a Honda Odyssey as we awaited the birth of our third and three car seats would not fit in the back of our current vehicle.
Enter stage left, a beautiful grey 2001 Honda Odyssey that we could pay cash for and enjoy every day until last Friday.
She decided to stop on the side of the highway.
Just like that! She sat there for three days while we pondered and prayed and wandered and wondered.
A few friends sat together in our wonderings.
And we are so grateful!
This van taught me how to dream, about cars.
Now she is reminding me how to dream in others ways.
Perhaps our life is meant to be with one car?
I wonder what will happen in the next weeks so that we could pay cash for a new car?
I am excited.
I am leaning in with anticipation.
I am dreaming.
I am so grateful for this dream car!
Lying on the ground.
Tangled woven fabric all around me, across my face circling my body.
Standing arms flailing.
A puppy, playfully pulling around, like he’s chasing his tail, helping me unravel.
The puppet strings are cut.
I no longer need to wrestle or perform.
I can be.
He smells like heaven.
Lush and green.
Warm and luscious.
We are walking freely.
(Thank you to lovely Linda for helping me be and amazing Ang for the inspiration! Glory!)
Aslan, the lion portraying Jesus.
Magical conversations with my eight year old day after day.
Short times of reading over time to completing seven wonderful books.
With gratitude to CS Lewis for sharing his gifts.
Writing takes discipline, like anything that produces fruit in our lives.
Now off to work on my summer body and ponder our next series!
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for MY blog.Woop Woop, thank you monkeys!
I now have almost 1,000 followers who receive my blog via email.
And here are a few more stats that blew my brain…. my monkey brain!
Check it out:
Here’s an excerpt:
The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 14,000 times in 2015. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 5 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.
Celebrating friendship, Jesus’s birth, family, and just being together! We had an amaaaaazing Christmas. Love a duck, I do have to say it was “Cann”tastic!
There were so many coincidences and blessings that came our way. The opportunities we have to talk and sit with people were inspiring.
And discovering a ski sign with our last name on it.