Full

Twas Friday night, round midnight, I reckon, when I went outside to move my truck.
All evening I'd been itchin to go out for a walk... just feeling restless, I guess. But with the rain n all, I stayed in and watched the final disk of Season 3 of Friday Night Lights with my mom.

By 12 we were done and she went off to bed.
And I zipped outside, hopped in my truck and moved it over to the far side of the driveway.
It wasn't til after I'd parked and locked it, that I noticed how bright it was outside.

I looked up and saw the full moon.
The full moon and a clear night sky filled with stars.
The full moon and stars and low fluffy, transparent clouds. Clouds that were racing across the sky from west to east. (Or from where I was standing, from stage right to stage left.)

There I was, in the middle of the driveway, facing south, with the whole expanse of the heavens visible to me. There was so much going on up there.
And it all was happening so fast.

I had to lean against my truck so that I didn't fall over. My head was titled back and I couldn't peel my eyes away from the show going on above me. Directly above me.
The clouds were passing by, changing shape as they sped off towards Hope. And to my right, I could see a storm brewing, heavier clouds swirling and dancing and hovering and creeping.

I stayed out there, in awe of that night sky for about half an hour.
My eyes remained locked on the moon, for it was the most solid thing up there. The stars kept blinking into and out of sight as fluffy bits of cloud floated past, but that moon? Kept beaming down on me.

And even as the storm clouds made their way to center stage, the moon shone through them.

So what I'm saying is, is that the moon and I had a moment on Friday night.
And it was lovely.

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The next morning, (OKFINE, afternoon) Max called and woke me up. He was on his way downtown to do some Christmas shopping and he wondered what I wanted.

Two things:
1. First time this has ever happened.
2. I was not prepared.

I told him I'd call back.

I thought, and I thought, and I thought. (And really, there's nothing I want that can be bought in a mall. Sigh.)

So I googled the phrase, 'what do I want for Christmas?' and got caught up reading a bunch of entertaining blogs and didn't call Max back, or get out of bed before 3.

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When I DID get out of bed, I finished doing my laundry, cleaned my room and went for that walk I'd been longin' to do the night before.

This is my neighbourhood. For now, at least. Might as well get used to it.

I walked up the big hill (what is it with my dad and mom living at bottom of hills?) slowly, but without stopping. At the top, I had a choice. And I'm proud to say I chose the harder route... by turning left and going down another hill, fully understanding that I'd have to walk back up again.

I meandered through cul-de-dacs and firelanes and walked past hundreds of huge homes. Family homes. Homes with many bedrooms and bathrooms and lots of entertaining space. Homes with beautiful yards and wide driveways. Homes with multiple cars parked in front. Homes with happy people outside putting up Christmas lights.

And it occurred to me ... I'm not going to have that.

I am never going to have a big home again. That dream of having the perfect home, filled with laughter and joy and children and a husband and apple pies baking and a Disney movie playing on the TV and no spiders creeping in the basement and a bright bedroom with a large south facing window and a private backyard with a firepit and seating area and dammit I hate what pinterest has done to my expectations. (Pinterest. Plus I come from a family, and was married into a family, where big, new, fully loaded homes were standard. I'll be the first (other than my dad, in his room at Kinsmen) to live smaller.)

I live in an expensive corner of Surrey. And on Saturday afternoon at 4 pm, I came to terms with my reality: I am not going to have this for myself.

(Hahahaha, just as I typed that last sentence, on my bed, in my room at the lake, on an overcast Sunday afternoon, the sun broke through and FLOODED MY ROOM with a bright warm, light.)

My ah-ha moment.

I'm 52. And this is as good as it gets.
Some dreams are for the young.
And I can't keep holding on to them. The expiration date on those dreams has passed. Probably a long time ago.

I need new, age-appropriate dreams.
I need new life-situation appropriate dreams.
I can't keep having the same next-stage-of-life dreams that all my married friends have.

I need a 75 year old single female role model to show me what I should reasonably be dreaming for.

(And the sun? Broke through again. I must be on the right track with all this thinking.)

So anyway, while walking through a maze of gorgeous homes, I made a list off all the things I have to accept that I will not have in this lifetime. Most of it was material. Things I will not have because I will never be in that income bracket. Things I will not have because I am on a fixed income and am the only wage earner in my life. Things I will not have because I have no one to share it with.

I was mostly OK saying goodbye to the dream of a nice home or a new, fun car. Or expensive all-inclusive vacations.

I am still struggling with saying goodbye to fantasies of non-material experiences... like sharing the joy of babysitting grandchildren with their grandfather. Or setting an example for my kids of how to work through shit and stay married for 50 years.


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Do you like going to church?

If you don't, you should totally find one that you love attending.

On Sat night, after I'd been, I met up with a friend for a late dinner.

"How was church?" she asked.
"Awesome." I replied.

And then we talked about the weird, but maybe really not so weird, coincidence that her downtown Vancouver 'inner city' church, and my suburban mega church both had guest speakers from different organizations WHO HAD THE EXACT SAME MESSAGE two weeks ago. (We had Gary Haugen, she had Shane Claiborne.)

And the message?

That God is good.
How does God let people know that He is good?
Through us.
We are His plan.
We are how He's chosen to let everyone know that He is good.
He doesn't have a plan B. Or a back-up. We're it.
God shows up through us."

We talked a fair bit about what that means for us. For her and for me. What is our response? How will it change the way we live? What is God calling us to do?

And then? Then we sat in my truck in front of her house and prayed for each other and for each other's kids.

I am slowly getting used to this business of praying in my truck.
I don't have a mini, internal freak out when she suggests we do this anymore.

One of these days I may end up being a normal Christian after all.

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Three things I'm thankful for:

1. Late night moments with the Creator of the moon.

2. Sacred moments in my truck.

3. Ah hah moments on my walk.

Shalom,
xo