Still it lingers

Christmas came and went quickly. Three days of family fun and feasting interwoven with the golden thread of faith. Four of us found ourselves at FGT for their Christmas morning service. Jenn visited her friend Brad's cantata down the road on Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve our immediate family of seven enjoyed an English Christmas dinner replete with turkey and Christmas pudding. Late in the evening we opened gifts and then some stayed up to watch the Brothers Grimm. Christmas Day at 12:30pm we made haste to Gramma and Granpa's for a Mennonite Christmas meal of ham, coteletten, plumi moos, zweiback, potato salad with extended family, seventeen of us this year. We managed to somewhat dent the pile of over 1,000 Christmas cookies gramma made this year while enjoying gramma's favorite movie "It Happens Every Spring." Boxing Day our immediate family went shopping for bargains, found lots, went out to dinner at Kelsey's and then to see Narnia. Tuesday we recuperated from the previous three days! On Wednesday, Paul and I drove Jenn all the way to Toronto to catch her flight to Vancouver. She said she had the best Christmas ever. We miss her already. Graduation can't come soon enough. Jo and Jordan are still here for a few more days. Sadly all the snow has melted except for a remnant where Jenn's snow sofa and snowman were built.

Family fun and glitches

The house is now full. Late Wednesday night Jo arrived, followed by my brother on Thursday. The best part about Christmas is not the gifts but all the time spent visiting, playing games and sometimes playing music together. The piano is getting a good workout. Glitches do happen...late last night we awoke to the insistent ringing of the door bell at 2:45 a.m.! Jo came home from work to find herself locked out--someone else thought they were the last one in. Car time is at a premium as everyone wants to visit friends and shop, and some are working shifts at the local feeding troughs....pizza places. Time to run...off in pursuit of the perfect eating bird. Food, fun, festivity--there is nothing like Christmastime.

Quick as a wink

Last night my music students, plus one support person per student (occasionally two!), came for our annual Christmas Snowsongs recital. Over 20 of us crowded into the music room and the fun began. First up a boys recorder trio performed. As I congratulated them on a job well done, the youngest, a six year old, beamed up at me and winked at me just before he went and sat down. It took all I could muster not to break out laughing....There is nothing like the unexpected things kids do to brighten an evening.

Snowmen!!!!!!!!!!

There is nothing like a sudden foot of snow before Christmas to create snowmen. All over the neighbourhood and along the highway they sprang like mushrooms after the snowstorm...Mohawk Manny is one of my favourites. One can tell the size of the kids in the home by the size of the snowmen. Ours is huge, about 6 foot tall. No, I don't have any 6 foot tall kids, but Jenn's friend Paul is tall enough to build a huge snowman complete with a snow sofa for viewing the said snowman. It sure is great to have nearly everyone home for Christmas.....waiting for you Jo!

Narnian inspirations

A few weeks ago, at the beginning of November, I had the chance to visit "The Kilns" in the area of Oxford, England. This was the home of C.S. Lewis, now restored to his era. The photo shows the back of the house with the living room window on the left and dining room on the right. Out back of the house one can roam through woods, around a pond and up a hill. At the far end of the woods there is a paddock. I must admit I walked through the woods and thought of "Narnia" and wondered if Lewis had been inspired as he walked through the woods. Currently outside my house looks more like Narnia with at least 8 inches of snow. While I have not yet seen the recent "Lion, Witch and Wardrobe" movie, I fully intend to. I was captured by the book as a child and developed a fondness for turkish delight and Aslan. Eventually I read all the chronicles of Narnia. One word of warning, if you visit "The Kilns", the inspiring wardrobe is no longer there, it is in the States at Wheaton! Instead of one imagining travelling through the wardrobe, the wardrobe travelled!

A season of expectancy

Seasons of expectancy trigger joy in our lives. Hope flourishes. Many of us look forward to Christmas, not so much for the gifts (as we did when we were younger), but in terms of family reunions. As many of my children have wandered far across this land, I wait with expectancy for their return over the next two weeks. The tree is ready and the Christmas village nestles on top of the piano once again. Soon I will put up the nativity....anyone want to move camels this year? I plough through my research paper prep trying to free up as much time as I can for... Christmas...a season of fun in the middle of winter....the snow is already here. My students are busy practicing for our recital on the 20th....so much to look forward to: viewing the Narnia movie "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe" together, Boxing Day sales, dinners together, one son recording music with his friends, my daughter's friends dropping by, Christmas Eve service, late night movies in the family room, talking, reconnecting, chatting late at night (if I can stay up!),wondering how long my youngest's goatee has grown (!), playing music together, phone calls from relatives in far off countries, lights on the snow, hugs at the door...anyone want to add to the list?! Oh, probably some will add...cookies...I think gramma has started baking. May this season be a time of joy, family reconnection and spiritual peace for all as we celebrate the birth of our Saviour. Advent is a time of expectancy.

Saskatchewan

You know you are in Saskatchewan when, it is -19C and students still ride their bikes to school!!!
It is 8:00am, I walk to school, the stars are still out and the sunrise is barely beginning.
I am told they do not change time in this province, because it is so flat!

Some rumours need to be debunked as truth

I hear the statistic over and over again from clients and friends that 50% of marriages end in divorce, so why marry. I questioned the statistic. It is certainly not true in the realm of my acquaintances. Is it true overall? Who is collecting the data? Does it apply to the U.S., Canada, Europe? According to Rich Buhler, who has researched the statistic, the rumour is just a rumour and too often quoted as the truth. The rumour originated from a misreading of the facts. In 1981 there were 2.4 million marriages in the U.S. and 1.2 million divorces. The statistic did not mention that 54 million marriages already existed. Has the divorce rate increased over the years.....yes, but not to the proportion most people believe. So young people, take courage, don't let a rumour rob you of a committed lifetime relationship. One can educate oneself about the risk factors so one can lay the foundation for a healthy marriage.

Guy Fawkes and trains

Judy, Nancy and I arrived in England early Friday morning, not too much worse the wear for flying all night. By Friday evening we were happily having dinner in Torquay at my parents when the fireworks started. The fireworks carried on all weekend....it was the 400th anniversary of Guy Fawkes almost blowing up the Houses of Parliament....terrorism is not a new thing. Now, for 400 years, the Brits have celebrated the capture of a 17th century terrorist. Guy Fawkes was unhappy with the government trying to kick all the catholics out of the country. .....hmmmn, a religious conflict....any of this sound familiar....some things never change.

Sunday afternoon we three boarded a train for Oxford, getting there sounded fairly simple....catch a train to Reading, transfer to a train for Oxford, take a bus to Clanfield. We hadn't counted on a last minute platform change from 3 to 8 at Reading. After a stimulating conversation with an Oxford graduate and photographer on group dynamics and his experience as an extra in "Shadowlands", we disembarked. The platform change caught us by surprise and the three of us had to charge, with our luggage, up to the overhead passway, across and then to our horror discovered the entrance to platform 8 blocked by a barrier! We could see our train preparing to leave. We yelled for help, a guard appeared, unlocked the barrier (what in the world it was there for we couldn't figure out) and actually ran down a moving escalator hauling or suitcases. We jumped on the train, just about literally and found it so jam packed we stood for most of the way to Oxford. Outside Oxford the train slowed to a stop. We were informed that the station traffic was too congested for our train to arrive. Great! Several twenty something students were jammed in the hall with us and we had a great time swapping stories and getting to know each other. Eventually we starting passing a cell phone around to communicate to those waiting for us. We realized we were going to arrive way past our deadline and got hold of our contact. Thank God for cell phones. Finally the train pulled into the station. We tried to find a bus and couldn't and so in desperation the three of us split the cost of a taxi for the 20 miles to Clanfield. Our contact met us there, and to our surprise, a Nigerian doctor who had been on the train with us arrived via the bus! I guess we needed to try a little harder to find it.

The conference has been fantastic. As everyone gets to give input on case studies, we have an international perspective not always available at conferences. I am getting immersed in French all over again by spending lunch with friends from Switzerland, France and Belgium. International conferences truly make the world seem smaller and enlarge one's perspective. All over the world people face similar struggles.....prejudice, racism, abuse, neglect and a search for God and healing. Stories of healing and hope encourage us. God is with us and guides us as we search for Him in our lives and the lives of others. Healing comes from Him as He guides in our work. The world is waiting, looking for hope....we need to be trained and ready to help.

England awaits

Thursday morning and I am almost ready to leave for the IHACA conference in Oxford, England. Here are blue skies, there I suspect rain! I have two friends to travel with, adventure awaits. First we will travel to Torquay to visit my parents, then on to the conference to renew old acquaintances and meet with new friends....definitely a fun week plus learning....case studies, seminars, networking....all that good stuff. Too bad I have to foot the bill, but it will be worth it.

Surgery

Today, for many people, was a day just like any other day. Fall colours glistened in the sunshine of a crisp, blue skied autumn day. My husband and I drove to the city anticipating the surgery that would enable him to breathe normally again. I think we were both a little nervous, and yet excited at what the surgery would do. Shortly after our arrival, we kissed good-bye and he was whisked into the operating room. A couple of hours later I found him in recovery, heavily sedated. The operation was a success, now for the recovery period. How much medication does it take to keep a good man down---I think we are about to discover! Thank God we live in a time and place where this surgery was possible. Life is still good.

Curling

Tonight my hubby and I tried curling for the first time and I discovered it is nowhere near as easy as it looks. My rock was about as uncontrollable as were my feet on the ice! Kudos to all curlers, especially those who manage to stay balanced and place the rock right where they want it to go. My highlight of the evening, apart from creating a wild team cheer for our "Australian" team, was meeting a couple from a small town we once visited in Mexico back in the seventies. It is a small world after all.

The youngest becomes a man

Today is a special day. Not only is it 28C at 42 Latitude in Canada on October 6th, the three pronged sassafras leaves softly turning yellow tinged with mandarin, today my youngest turns 18. Eighteen and nowhere in the province to be found, but far the other side of the country near the Pacific Ocean, attending college. This in itself is an image of the grace of God. It was a miracle my son lived to be 5 and climbed on a yellow school bus to travel down the country highway to school (all staff alerted to his medical needs, his siblings and God to watch over him). It was probably a miracle I didn't home school him, but had the faith God would meet all his needs in a country school thirteen years ago. Now he has travelled far, thinks deeply, reads widely, writes music, plays piano and violin, and amazes us with his progress and faith. Son, we are proud to be your parents, excited to see your growth, and watch with joy as you and your God unfold your future.

Feisty 75 yr. old gramma is my mother in law

Last night we had an impromptu family gathering at my in laws. Since they have moved back to our town, we often gather there to banter the evening away nourished with coffee, tea and perhaps gramma's famous strawberry-rhubarb platz. Some of my husband's brothers and their wives drop by and join us, along with a visiting relative from afar. This is not unusual. What was unusual last night was the floor and the person who laid the floor. I entered the house to find the living room carpet had been stripped and in its place was a lovely rose brown hardwood floor. Okay, you might think, big deal....so granpa laid a new floor. Well you are wrong. The person with the triumphant smile was not granpa.....but gramma! At seventy five years of age this great grandma had a blast laying a hardwood floor and didn't have an ache or bruise to show for it! Her only comment, "I now have a marketable skill!" Yes, great gramma, has hammer, will lay hardwood floor...I can see the ad in the paper now. Kudos to my mother-in-law, definitely the senior citizen of the week!

One Woman's Journey

After sharing the following with other women at seminary this week, I realized I could have entitled this blog "Our Journey." To my children who may read this blog, I do not regret one year of staying home raising you....it was a privilege and a joy, I have heaps of good memories, thank you....yes, there were trials, and that is life.

I am a woman, child of the sixties
Created in the image of God,
And yet for years held back
Held back by cultural expectations...
Women don't need a post secondary eduction
Stay home, have children, clean your house
Barefoot, pregnant, in the kitchen---don't you know that will be your place?!
And yet--I dream

I am a woman, of age in the seventies
Created to reflect the image of God
Denied opportunites by gender
By gender oppressed
Women don't enroll in a B.Th. program
Take the B.R.E. instead
You don't need Greek or Hebrew or Homiletics--don't you know your place?!
And yet--God gives me a youth ministry

I am a woman, a mother in the eighties
Created to express the image of God
Locked in a box of ecclesiastical patriarchy
Trying to lift the lid
Women don't belong on church boards
Be on the women's executive instead
Sing us a song, play the piano, but don't you try to preach!!!
Even so, secretly "Yentl" inspires me!

A double standard exists--can you see it?
If I was a missionary in Africa, you would expect me to preach!!!
Helen Roseveare inspires me

I am a woman, maturing in the nineties
Growing in the image of God
Gender issues still patronize me
How long will I be bound?
Why do you still want to study?
Give it up, go earn some money
Be a good helper to your husband, support him in his career
And yet--crisis pregnancy ministry captures me!

I am a woman, now in a new century
Rejoicing in the image of God
Gender issues---a classroom discussion
We all have a lot to learn
Seminary, yes, I AM HERE, not an M.Div, but an M.A.
One degree behind and another one in process
My husband supports and encourages me!

Connection

I watched the news with interest and some relief last night. Apparently those who live in the bayou close to St. Martinsville did not have their homes torn apart by the hurricane. Our Acadian guides are quite probably safe. More than safe, their town has now doubled in size, flooded by refugees from New Orleans. Apparently their distant cousins in New Brunswick are helping them care for the refugees by sending donations of necessary supplies. This says so much for the gracious spirit of those we encountered in the bayou--always ready to lend a helping hand. The Acadians, forcibly displaced from their homeland in 1755 by my countrymen and sent to Louisiana, are now helping those displaced from their homes by nature 250 years later.

Memories of a sunken city

To some the recent news flashes from New Orleans may seem unreal and hard to connect to. To me, I remember the people, the sights sounds and conversations of a vacation not so long ago.
Spring break was coming that year and we planned our usual run for southern warmth. That year, not so long ago, we planned to head directly south to the closest stretch of warm ocean we could find. After looking at a map, we decided to head for Biloxi, Mississippi. Our youngest two were teens then, and game for a bit of adventure.
We stopped a few hours short of Biloxi that first night, deep in the heart of Mississippi. Early the next morning we drove to Biloxi and found our motel on the gulf coast. I remember shrimp boats, long streatches of sand and friendly epople. It was a little too cool too swim, but we enjoyed ocean walks and exploring the area. We visited interesting shops in Gulfport and then headed for New Orleans.
Some may have called New Orleans "sin city." I found it to be an interesting, curious city and definitely not as notorious as Amsterdam's red light district. I remember colored musicians playing jazz on their trumpets on a street corner, hoping for a dollar and hawking their CD's. Music filled the air on a warm afternoon. The beignets purchased in the French Quarter were fresh and delicious with coffee. The crawfish, a local delicacy, were hot, spicy and in high demand. Their shells littered the restaurant parking lot. Someone regaled us with a tale of collecting crawfish every spring with his dad on the banks of the Mississippi. I remember walking down the steet and being greeted with a smile and the tip of a hat--very friendly people. My daughter purchased a tall Mardi Gras hat to wear just for the fun of it.
The next day we headed out of the city via a sceninc route and got really lost in the bayou. We drove through watery areas trying to find our way out. Eventually we met some Acadians whose forbearers came from the Maritimes. They sure chuckled to find some Canadians lost in the bayou and gladly helped redirect us.
We asked my daughter what it meant to her to hear reports of "Hurricane Katrina" having been to New Orleans. She asked if our motel in Biloxi was still standing. No, I am sure it is not. The French Quarter still stands but I wonder about the friendly people I met in Mississippi, are they still alive? Could the street musicians, the beignet sellers, the crawfish collectors and the friendly Acadians in the bayou have suvived?
While I will never know the answer to the above questions, I can still pray for the survivors. Over the next few days I will wear my sequined denim blazer I picked up in the French Quarter. Perhaps, if you see me in it, you can remember to send up a prayer for the surviviors and contribute financially to the relief effort.