Three Things

... that I'm thankful for:

1. Forgiveness
2. Hope
3. Answered prayer


Shalom

I was at a wedding this evening ...

It was awesome.

The rest of the album is here.


Dear God,
Thanks for inventing us. And for coming up with the whole idea of falling in love, and getting married.
Thanks for weddings, and the hope that flows during them.
And thanks for friends, new babies, laughter, twinkle lights in barns, dancing, summer evenings, breezes, colors, and cookies.

Amen.

because when they said ' i do' they meant it

They're celebrating being married for 54 years today.

He lives in a care home
with 89 other residents with mental and physical ailments.
She lives in the house he built with love
with her daughter and granddaughter.

They spend three hours together every afternoon.
He, lying on his bed
in his red shirt
blue jeans
and black shoes.

She, beside him in a wicker chair
wearing something turquoise and cheerful
with her glasses on
and her hands busy, crocheting.

He lists all the dead people he knows.
She remembers them all with him.

He lists all his kids.
She reminds him who had which grandchildren.

He lists all his memories.
She recalls them with him, filling in details.

All this conversation ...
against the backdrop of Kurt Russel and Goldie Hawn
getting to know each other in Overboard.

And then, as her prepaid parking runs out,
she leans over to kiss him.
He stretches his lips to meet hers.
And it's goodbye
Til tomorrow, God willing.

This is what marriage looks like.
When you've made a vow.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks, Art, Anne, Hildegarde, Don and Wendy for celebrating with them.

On Thursdays, he comes home for a visit:

Yes. That's a Christmas Tree. Deal with it. 

Dear God,

Thanks for thinking up the idea of friendship.
Thanks for these friendships.
Can you keep a close eye on these folks?
Surround them with Your love, heal them from their aches, pour out Your wisdom on them as they make decisions, and flood them with Your peace.

Amen.

Who's Writing This Script Anyway?

This whole concept of "Life as a Story" has been suggested/discussed quite a bit in the past few years. I think the Donald Miller book "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years" had alot to do with starting that conversation. At least for me it did.

Anyway, these past twelve months or so, I've been watching my life unfold as a story. Not a story book or novel, as much as a weekly sitcom. Hmmm. Maybe not sitcom exactly, but weekly drama. I'm a character in my story, but not the main one; it's an ensemble cast. There is no lead role. I play the (stereotypical) divorced friend. Each friend/family member has a role. (And, coincidently, they were perfectly cast.) (Whoever did the hiring, did a fabulous job.)

This summer I've been following the twitter accounts of two writers I admire, Diana Gabaldon and Anne Lamott. So the whole story theme is strong for me right now. (Especially since Diana's first book, "Outlander" is being made into a mini series and I'm watching them cast the characters, and write the script and prepare for production. And it's all just so very interesting.)

The other reason the whole story theme is so real for me, is that each week I experience something that I have no control over and say to myself, "Who the heck is writing this script? Very creative, sir. Didn't see that coming. Nice twist."

That weekend I was in Seattle with friends hanging out in Pike Place Market before the Amy Grant concert?
And after we did the Ghost Tour? One of us was convinced a vital girl part was going to fall out of her body. She suddenly sat down in front of the gelato stand and while her frozen treat melted she described in detail what was happening and how it felt. The nurse amongst us suggested she lie on her back and put her legs up on the building to hold everything in. And if she wanted? She (the nurse) would take a quick peak? Just to make sure her uterus and other lady bits were still tucked up inside. She could use the tiny gelato spoons as instruments to uh, substitute for a scapula. ( I just googled 'scapula' to make sure I was using the correct term. I am. Don't bother googling.) I couldn't stop laughing. It was seriously the best bit of writing you could imagine. And it was like that all day.

All day.

One incident after another, and I kept thinking, 'who is writing this script? It's so good.' I felt that way right up til the very last comment in the truck, just as we were passing through the border, when the die hard Amy fan amongst us said, "Yes, but, I wonder where she's sleeping tonight?" If this was a two-hour season-ending episode, it was a very satisfying one.

And then came this weekend.
I was preparing for it on Thursday night, (Yay! A weekend in Vancouver! Yaletown! Perfect exploring weather anticipated!) when I got a message advising me that the cat I would be 'babysitting' actually had cancer and was in it's final stages. I prayed about that. Because, well. I'm not much of a pet person.




OK. I'm not at all a pet person.
And I'm not confident in my compassion levels for a sick animal. Nor my ability to care for one properly. If I'm going to do something, I'm going for the "A". And this wasn't really a test I could study for. I prayed. And asked God to intervene.

He didn't. Or it didn't seem like He did.
Somehow it was part of His plan that I deal with this.

So on Friday before I headed into Vancouver, I had to go to work. Except it wasn't a work day. It was our annual Staff Day. We were going to volunteer in the morning. And play in the afternoon.

I signed up to volunteer at The Gateway of Hope (Salvation Army Shelter), assuming I'd be assigned something in keeping with my skillset and age and gender.

I was assigned to TRUCK WASHING duty.

And within two minutes the overspray from the hose wrecked my bangs and for the rest of the day I felt ugly. The end.

That was a short, crappy storyline.
After we finished washing their fleet, I dusted the ceiling lights and washed interior windows.

I AM A LAZY OFFICE WORKER.
In my real life I sit at a desk for 8 hours a day.
I was worn out by noon.

However, after a morning of doing manual labor, I went bowling. With the rest of the staff team.

My right shoulder? Is still frozen. Yes, it's a real thing. Go to frozenshoulder.com if you don't believe me.
And my right foot? Is broken. Has been for the past three months. I haven't mentioned it because it's embarrassing to have so many faulty body parts, ye ken? But there's something wrong with it. So much so that I'm actually going to see my doctor about it. Tomorrow. He's going to die of shock. OK, maybe not. But he will be surprised. I never see him for things that 'just' ache. "What? You're here for something other than a bladder infection? You actually do have other body parts? I'm confused? Your urinary track is fine? Are you wasting my time, woman?"*

So. I'm bowling, with bad bangs, a broken foot and a bum shoulder.
On my team are the President of Focus, my supervisor, and a tall, slender, confident woman who works downstairs in the building. My name was first on the list, so I threw the first ball. "GOD. Please help me not suck." My entire body was so tense that when I straightened up after lofting the first 110 pound bowling ball down the alley, I saw stars.

I saw stars for each of the ten frames during that first game. My foot was throbbing every time I bent my knee and put all my weight on it. And don't talk to me about throwing bowling balls with a shoulder that doesn't like to move. Half way through that first game I thought I was going to faint. Oh those little sparkly stars...

PLUS IT WAS BLINKIN HOT IN THERE. And I couldn't take off my sweater because then my upper arms would show. According to a fashion concious friend of mine, women over 50 don't wear sleeveless tops in public. So I melted.

I prayed for a good roll with every turn.
Know what? I think I found the one place where our prayers don't make it past the roof... Bowling Alleys. You're on your own in there. God will not give you a strike if you can't manage to throw/roll in a straight line down the centre.

I am not a fun person to have on your team if fun is the goal.
Tense much?

Seriously. I am a putz.
x 10000.
My team: (Pres is taking his turn)

Other teams:

Notice all the smiles?
Yeah. I probably didn't have one. I was serious.
Seriously trying not to pass out from heat exhaustion, physical pain and sheer stupidity.

SO.
THIS level of tenseness is what I took with me into Vancouver.
Aren't you glad you weren't written into this week's script? Because laughter was not abundant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part Two of my weekend adventures to follow.

* I started writing this on Monday night.
It's now Tuesday night - and I've been to the doctor.
He's pretty certain I have a stress fracture on my fifth metatarsal bone of my right foot. I'll get it x-rayed tomorrow.
I knew it was sore. It absolutely killed in June when I was boxing up the contents of my house. I packed up that whole bloody house with a broken foot and a paralyzed shoulder. Is no one handing out awards for feats of strength and endurance like this?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three things I'm thankful for:
1. An absolutely glorious evening at the lake with a friend who loves to cook. We sat on the deck and ate and talked for hours. And just finished watching PS I Love You. Sigh. Irish men are going to be the death of me.

2. I really, really love this place. I feel so lucky.

3. Summer.

Shalom.

New Post

It just seemed wrong to leave that cougar story up as the front page of this blog for any more days.

So here we are.
What do you want to talk about?


Oh..
How about this:



Now that the shower is done, and photos have been posted to instagram:

I can post my pics.

Danica saw an idea on pinterest and was inspired to hand out personalized chocolate suckers to her guests at a bridal shower she hosted last Sunday.

First we ordered two dozen milk chocolate smiley face lollipops from Purdy's through Val.

Then I asked one of our designers to create a 2" round sticker/label for us (over the weekend, NOT during a work day) and she came up with this:

(TOO CUTE, no?)

And then Dancia and I wrapped the chocolates in cellophane, tied them with a cheerful bow, applied the sticker and VOILA. (I forgot to take a pic. Sorry.)

This is how she displayed them at the shower, on a sweet side table in a picket fence planter:

Nextup?
Giant crepe pompoms:

And then it was late-night-time and I had to go to work the next day so that was it for crafting for me. The girls stayed at the cabin for another day and another night and tanned and had fun and I'm an adult now so I had to leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you're not on facebook, you probs haven't seen my Creationfest pics.
I'll post some here for you:

This is the group of folks I hung out with last weekend:

(A much smaller crowd than Creationfests of Old.)
(But size doesn't matter.)
(Not to me at least.)


Everyone was in good moods. Lots of smiling faces:

And the concerts were great - ESPECIALLY Saturday night.
Saturday night?
Was awesome x 1 million zillion.

The Passion Team:
David Crowder
Chris Tomlin
Kristian Stanfill
Christy Nockels
 and speaker Louie Giglio

SERIOUSLY, if you are over, say 40, a Christian, and not bored by worship music, you should plan NOW to attend the next concert this Passion Team does in a city near (or even not-so-near) you.
I'm not even kidding a little bit.

That concert/talk could have gone on for hours. I wouldn't've left.
EVEN THOUGH IT WAS RAINING.

(Can you tell it's raining in that pic? No? How about this one:)

Well.
Just trust me.
It was wet.
I had an umbrella, so I was fine. (In case you were wondering about my hair...)

But the point is, NO ONE left when the rain started.
We just sat there and listened. And sang. And maybe even danced. Well, 'worshipdanced'. Which isn't as sexy.

...

Know what?
God created us for this.
"This" being community. He designed us to do this 'worship together' thing with joy.
Sure, it's good to sing along to Chris on the radio - but seriously. SO. Much. Better. when you're surrounded by friends who recognize the holiness of the moment with you.

And as perfect as the evenings at the fairgrounds were, and, oh, they were perfect, it was even more perfecter to go to a hotel for night. I can't even begin to explain the difference between camping with 12 boys in an RV versus sharing a fantastic hotel room with a friend. A friend who was totally OK with me sleeping til noon.

So what I'm saying is that last weekend was a gooder.

Next weekend will not be at all like last weekend.

I'm going on a stay-cation. Being a tourist in the big city half an hour from here.
I'm staying in Yaletown! (In the trendy corner of Vancouver, Trish.)
In a two bedroom apartment!
Housesitting.
Erhm, also cat sitting.
Erhm, cat sitting a cat with cancer.
Erhm, cat sitting a cat with cancer who hasn't eaten these past few days
Erhm, cat sitting a cat with cancer who hasn't eaten these past few days and who's end quickly draweth nigh.
Also. The forecast is for rain.

So that should be interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh. And if you're not on facebook, you probably haven't seen my Pirate Day pics.
Sigh.

OK, OK. I'll post a few here:

So on Wednesday, our department was responsible for hosting a BBQ for the entire staff group. (Lunch for 50)

After a lively debate, the theme decided upon was Pirates of the Aegean Sea. We served Greek food, and wore eye patches.

Entrance into the lunch room:

Instead of offering everyone a paper plate, meals were served in pirate ships:

Tablecloths were fake treasure maps:

Beverage was lime-aid to ward off The Scurvey:

Those are chicken skewers and veggie skewers.
And every single one of them was eaten.

Now you really really wish you worked with me, don't you?

Wait until you hear about tomorrow...
Volunteer work in the morning.
Bowling in the afternoon.

Pics to follow.

Three things I'm thankful for:

1. My internet connection worked this evening. Last night it didn't. My access to the World Wide Web from this basement is Tempermental. Or mostly just mental. Or premenopausal. Or premenstral. Or a teenaged boy.

2. Facebook conversation with current cat/house sitters...
"Seriously, I did ask the doctor if the cat's death would it be quietlike falling asleep or would it be something more violent, because the person coming next is not all that great with pets."

Haha. That's me. "Person who is not all that great with pets..."
I should get that printed on my business card.

3. Reading glasses. Books to read. People who write books. An industry that takes books and makes them into movies.

Shalom,