My workplace has undergone some mighty big staffing changes in the past 6 months; people leaving, people joining. For someone like me, (who values relationships and consistency), the environment is unsettling and it's stirring up a whole buncha emotions.
Each goodbye has been hard. (Rolf, Emily, Joanna, Shuwen, Isaac, Gloria, Karin ... you are missed every day.)
But the hardest 'see ya later' took place earlier this month on Melanie's last day. She was my first Work BFF... you know... that person you sit beside during staff events, that person you ride horses with during Fun Day, that person you pray with during devos.
Mel, (one of our Senior Vice Presidents) was also my role model and mentor; I learned so much about leadership from watching her lead her teams.
Aside from that; we have The Ring Connection from December 2015...
Once upon a time, like say, back in 2012, a series of unfortunate events occurred. One of those things was a robbery where all my jewelry was stolen. Because I was insured, a settlement of $20,000 was agreed upon. $15,000 of that went into replacing my roof because raccoons and rats and possums had removed the cedar shakes and made a nice wide entrance for themselves and their partying friends. And I bought myself a diamond ring with the balance.
On Friday, December 4, 2015 I lost it.
I had attended a Make-It Christmas event in Vancouver that evening, but really I could've lost it at any point during the day.
Melanie was thinking about going to that event on Sunday, so she Facebook messaged me about the market, asking if it was worth going on Saturday. I said yes. And then mentioned my lost ring:
Me:
I don't want a lost ring to be THE thing that takes up all my energy this month, but it feels shitty to know its gone. It was an extravagant purchase, totally unnecessary, and I'm not really a jewellery person, so I often felt guilty/unworthy even owning it.
It wasn't a symbol of love given to me by anyone special, it's not a heirloom passed down through generations - so there was no romantic or historical meaning behind it.
I bought it with the insurance money because I thought I should have something sparkly and fun after the super shitty year I was having.
Considering all the crappy things that people in my life are dealing with, a dumb lost ring isn't worth mentioning or crying over.
God's got this; He knows where it is. And if I'm to have it back, I will.
And then on that Sunday afternoon Melanie got in touch with me again. (She'd gone to the Christmas Market with her husband):
Her:
Hey, have u heard anything?
Me:
Nope. I left a message at their lost and found, but I don't really expect it to be there.
Her:
Is this it?
Me:
WHAT!!!!!!
Her:
God loves you
Me:
OH MY GOODNESS
OH MY GOODNESS.
UN Believable.
Seriously?
Her:
and wants u to have sparkly things
Me:
I'm crying.
Her:
Yup!!!!
Us too
Me:
Seriously bawling.
Her:
Me too. Couldn't call. Texting is easier.
Me:
I can't even.
Christmas Miracle or WHAT?
Her;
Totally.
Me:
I'm still in awe. Like, you have no idea. Well, maybe you do.
Her:
No I do. Believe me.
Me:
I've only told, like 3 or 4 people that it's missing. I wasn't going to tell anyone. And I'm still surprised I told you. And hahaha. You have it. Did they just hand it over to you?
Her:
We went through the whole show and decided we'd ask at the end. But I kept thinking how easy it would be not to find it. It's such a big show. So many hiding places.
So once we were done, we walked up to the ticket booth. There was a dude with a host jacket on. I tapped him on the shoulder and asked if there was a lost and found.
He said yes, what did I lose. I said my friend lost a diamond ring. Had they received anything like that.
He paused and said yes.
He walked over to the counter and asked a lady for the ring. He asked me to describe it and it was exactly that.
They gave it to me. I think we all were in a bit of disbelief. I was practically crying and said I was going to contact you right then,
So awesome.
So easy.
Me:
Oh that God. He's so. so, so ... something.
Her:
So God.
Me:
Yup,
Feeling a little overwhelmed and totally loved.
Thankful that He used you in this story.
Her:
Me too...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
I haven't worn the ring more than once or twice since then. Obviously I can't be trusted not to lose it.
But I wore it on Melanie's last day at work. Because God connected us through that bit of bling all those years ago, and it meant something to both of us.
Three things I'm thankful for:
1. The positive experience these past 11 (!) years of working with skilled, talented, committed, compassionate, people who care deeply about the organization and the people who work there.
2. THIS weekend, when, for the first time since I said goodbye to them in Rome, we gathered at the lake to celebrate Thanksgiving.
3. Max offered to manage to whole turkey project.
4. Clint and Max said yes, when I (casually) asked them if they wanted to go for a walk with me. (!)
5. A life-giving concert on Wednesday evening with Matt Maher.
6. Another stellar GLS (Global Leadership Summit) conference on Thursday and Friday. Nothing fills my tank quite like two days of presentations on leadership issues like this event does. So grateful that smart people share their experience and knowledge so compellingly.
7. Thankful for a quiet Saturday with my mom.
8. Thankful for books. And the people who write them.
9. Grateful for my condo and the community at Latimer Village. It's home.
10. So glad the internet was invented.
Happy belated Thanksgiving!
Hug the ones you love, feel your boobs, and wash your hands.
I am ... disappointed in myself. Almost TWO months since my last blog post. What the heck. Also, I am a mom who identifies as a woman, and prefers the pronoun 'she' in the gender fluid world. (The last medical forms I filled out asked me those questions.)
I love ... driving past my new condo. And I love my kids. And I love pasta. And I love God.
I have ... alot of crap I need to get rid of in 2021; my new place is teensy.
I think ... I wasted my money buying that Keto membership. Haha. I haven't even downloaded the app.
I know ... less and less the older I get. My brain is leaking information. Or I have Alzheimer's. (Please God, no.) (I just watched Season 4 of This Is Us and my heart ACHES for Rebecca and her kids.)
I wish ... I had a bigger mouth, wider lips and a smaller, flatter stomach. Also I wish I could see my kids more than once every 8 weeks. WHINE WHINE WHINE.
I hate ... oysters (I've never had one, I've just made up my mind that I hate them.) Also getting needles. And selfish people. (OK. FINE. I don't 'hate' anyone.)
I like ... sleeping in a cold room, painting rocks, buying greeting cards, walking beside rivers/lakes/oceans and sitting in Danica's stylist chair.
I fear ... dementia. And poverty. And being unloved.
I search ... for my keys. And opportunities to make a difference.
I am not ... looking forward to my next birthday. Also? I am not prepared for retirement.
I never ... drink beer, offer to cook dinner, wear blue eye shadow, or turn down the chance to have a good conversation.
I always ... offer to drive. And I always pray if I say I'm going to.
I need ... time alone.
I am scared ... of mice. (Or maybe I just hate them?) And spiders. And snakes. And the 'end times'...
I smell ... Yup. Tamoxifen and killer hot flashes. But only my right pit. My left underarm was zapped with radiation, so it doesn't sweat.
I believe ... I was created for a purpose. By a creator who loves me. And has a plan.
I can ... apply dots of paint to rocks. (Actually EVERYONE can. I'm not so special.)
I ache ... when people I love are hurting. Also my left knee and right hip are sore.
I eat ... all the livelong day. With joy and enthusiasm.
I crave ... fresh air/a gentle breeze while I work.
I miss ... holding hands, Creationfest summers, having thick hair on the top of my head, lying on the tramp with my kids looking for shooting stars, road trips, my Murrayville house, and the joy my dad brought to family gatherings.
I regret ... not making an effort on my appearance for Drew and Dani's wedding.
I win ... rarely.
I lose ... my mind when someone turns left in front of me at the corner of 112 and 160.
I listen ... and then talk. It's called a conversation. I love them.
I confuse ... names. All the time. I think I might have Alzheimer's.
I dance ... rarely and poorly.
I am happy ... yes.
I work ... at checking things off To Do lists all day long.
I write ... quickest with a fine ball point pen.
I prefer ... having my camera off during Zoom meetings.
I hope ... my cousins can find a place for my Aunt Mary to live. I hope my kids won't be scrambling to find me a place to live when I'm 90. I hope some of the Covid protocols will be lifted so friends can visit their parents in care homes. I hope Donna, Lea, and Joanne's cancer treatments will be easier in the days ahead. I hope my cancer doesn't come back. I hope my mom loves her new condo. I hope this house will sell easily. I hope those that are out of work will be employed soon. I hope I can collect a ridiculous amount of cans and bottles for that guy who is out of work. I hope my twitter friend and her sister get some medical help and some relief. I hope there isn't a 'second wave'. I hope we have a sunny October. I hope those with broken hearts will experience love again. I hope I can travel to Europe again someday.
I'm thankful ... that Rock-star Julie taught me how to paint mandalas onto rocks. I'm thankful that SO MANY PEOPLE bought those rocks, enabling me to raise money for Twitter friend. I'm thankful for Maxine and Sister-Julie and their enthusiasm to help me feed the hungry and homeless. (Maxine wants to serve a turkey dinner in October. Julie wants to serve a ham dinner in November. I was thinking tuna casseroles would be an option. Haha.) I'm thankful for full moons and meteor showers and thunder and slippers and good books and actors/directors/producers/screenwriters ... And I'm mostly thankful for answered prayers and the God who answers them.
Funerals in the Time of Covid are intimate affairs.
Small gatherings.
With lots of love.
My dad's older brother, Uncle John, died last week. Today (I started writing this on Tues Aug 11) we gathered twice, (once at the graveside, and again later at Clearbrook MB Church) to say goodbye.
I took a few pics for family members who couldn't attend.
And the content of this post will be Uncle John's eulogy, which was read in English, by Tim, at the funeral.
Johann was arrested in
the autumn of 1937, like many Christians and others who the Communist Party
felt threatened by. The family never saw him again, and it wasn't until 65
years later, after the fall of the Soviet Union, that John learned of his
father's exact fate.
John spent the first seven
of his school years in Steinfeld, with instruction in German and Ukrainian.
Hans wanted to be a farmer, but was also fascinated by his father's carpentry
work. Because of the war, however, life soon became a matter of survival.With the retreat of the German Wehrmacht in
1943, the whole village fled in a trek with about 350,000 others westwards. The
escape was a highly dangerous endeavor that lasted two and a half years, with
many short and longer stops along the way. School was repeatedly interrupted
for the refugees.
When the war ended the
Klassen family found itself in East Germany, the Soviet occupation zone. They
only narrowly escaped deportation to Siberia; instead, near miraculously, the
family managed to get to West Germany at the beginning of 1946 and settled
close to Braunschweig for a while. In the autumn of the same year, Hans accepted
Jesus as his Savior at a youth camp organized by the Evangelical Free Churches
(Baptists). Two months later he was baptized with his two friends Henry Loewen
(his cousin) and Walter Giedt. In 1947 Hans began an apprenticeship as a
bookbinder in Braunschweig -- his love of reading, writing and books goes back
a long way. During this time he also heard for the first time about Bible Schools,
which were to play a big role in his future life.
In 1948 it became
possible to emigrate to Canada, already the home of many Mennonites due to
earlier waves of refugees. With the help of Uncle Cornelius Klassen, the family
began a new life in Manitoba, where John (as he was now called) first worked on
a farm. After the travel debt was paid, he moved to Winkler and learned carpentry.
In the fall of 1949 his wish came true, and John attended the Bible School in
Winkler for four years while at the same time catching up on missed schooling
and building houses.
John had met one Maria
Goerzen on his first youth retreat in Germany, who had also grown up in a
Mennonite village (Tiege) in Ukraine and now lived in Vancouver. He had not
forgotten her, nor her love for Jesus. After finishing Bible School, he moved
to Vancouver to work in construction and more: John and Mary got married on October
18, 1953.
In the winter months and
in the evenings, John also completed High School, taught Sunday School, did
youth work, and preached at the local Mennonite Brethern church. He was already
a busy man!
While John was working
in construction, the family grew: John Ruben and Ruth were born in 1954 and
1956. After a few years, John and Mary believed that they should continue to
prepare for pastoral or missionary work. They moved to Winnipeg in 1957 to
study at MB Bible College for another three years. After graduation, John and
Mary answered the call of MB Missions to go to Germany as missionaries. From
August 1960 they served the new congregation in Neustadt an der Weinstraße. During
this time, on April 7, 1964, their third child Tim was born – a birthday gift
for John.
From 1966 to 1968, John
studied at the college and seminary of the MB Churches in Fresno, California,
as well as at Fresno State College (BA, BD, and MA). In those years John let go
of various prejudices, including excessive legalism. After completing their
studies, the Klassens returned to Germany.
Their new task was
thepastoral leadership of the MB Church
in Lage in Northern Germany, which at that time had 75 members. They stayed in
this work for nearly 14 years and witnessed how God grew the church to more
than 300 members. A new assembly hall and rectory was built, with John acting
as construction manager. Several daughter churches were founded. John also
worked as radio preacher and in the leadership of the MB Churches association
(AMBD). Towards the end of his time with the Lage church, John gave up some of
his many roles, which allowed him to become guest teacher at several Bible
schools in Germany and Switzerland, especially at the non-denominational Bible
School Brake, where he had been a guest lecturer since 1970.
In 1982, John and Mary
moved to the United States for a year, where John studied Church Building
andMissiology (ThM) at Fuller
Theological Seminary in Pasadena, California. From 1983 on they helped to build
and grow a new MB Church in Bielefeld.
When George W. Peters
returned to the USA in 1987, the Klassens were called to Korntal, near
Stuttgart,to the Freie
Hochschule für Mission (FHM) toserve as coordinator and lecturer. The years
at FHM were a challenging and thankful time for John. In addition, he and Mary
continued in church building with the AMBD and regularly served as guest
preacher in various congregations on weekends. During this time teaching and preaching
among the "Umsiedler" became a bigger part of his service.
This led to John and
Mary being asked by the Bund Taufgesinnter Gemeinden
to participate in the establishment
of a theological training center in Bonn (Bibel Seminar Bonn, BSB). In January
1991 they moved to close-by Meckenheim. When the BSB opened its doors to the
first 16 students in the autumn of 1993, John was part of the leadership team
and lecturer in Dogmatics and Counseling.
John had been following
and documenting the development of the "Umsiedler" Freikirchen in
Germany with interest for many years, perhaps even with the idea of one day
turning these studies into a doctoral thesis. He did exactly that in 2003 ---
at age 74 --- with a dissertation at the University of South Africa(UNISA), which was subsequently published as
a book: "Russian-German Free Churches in the Federal Republic of
Germany".
He worked with the BSB
until his retirement in 2008. "Retirement" is somewhat of an
exaggeration: After John and Mary moved to Abbotsford, BC, Canada, he worked on
many projects with congregations and Bible Schools in Germany, and the MBMSI;
among others, a book about the 150-year history of the Mennonite Brethern Church
(2010). At Clearbrook MB Church he
remained active with German Bible studies and sermons. In recent years, he
lovingly cared for his “Schatz” Mary, at Tabor Court.
On August 4, 2020 he went
home to his Lord and Savior surrounded by his closest family, after being
diagnosed with cancer less than six weeks earlier.
He is survived by his
beloved Mary, his children John (Maria), Ruth (Tony) and Tim (Kiersten), 6
grandchildren: Jason, Persis, Ruben, Michael, Siri and Ellie, and 5
great-grandchildren: Seth, Sadie, Layla, Jona and Levi.They are scattered all over the world, in
Germany, Canada, England, and the USA.
Three things I'm thankful for:
1. Family. Families. My family.
2. I am grateful for this service. It felt good and right that we were in a church, singing hymns (yeah, in German and English) listening to stories about my Uncle John's love for the Lord and hearing about the legacy he was leaving behind.
3. Despite Covid and all it's restrictions, I am thankful that my cousins, here from London, New York and Germany, all were able to see their dad before he passed.
On the first day of August last year, I found out I had breast cancer. I thought I was going to die.
(Spoiler alert: I didn't.)
It's ONE YEAR LATER. (Happy anniversary, Left Boob. You did it! You are (mostly) here after this mighty eventful rotation around the sun.)
Did the experience change me? If that plot-twisty chapter's purpose was character development; did I develop? How did I grow? Change? Am I a better person now? Is there some way to measure that?
I think I'm the same.
Well, physically I've changed, THANKS A LOT Tamoxifen, for blocking my hormones. The hot flashes are mind-numbing. But other than that? I feel the same. (I hope I've learned something from the experience, otherwise WHAT WAS THE POINT?)
~~~~~
I've been rock painting.
I may have mentioned that?
The thing with rock painting is, well, you need to have rocks.
Also? Rocks are heavier than say, pieces of paper.
So when hunting for rocks, one should be prepared. With a backpack or a strong male who loves you enough to carry the rocks from the dry river bed, up the ridge to the trail and then over to the car. I have neither. So I lugged them, very ungracefully, in a satchel that kept falling off my shoulder, making me lose my balance. I considered giving up my latest hobby after my first rock hunt n gather expedition.
(Yes, it WOULD be easier to go around at midnight and help myself to my neighbour's landscaping stones (which are PERFECT), but I just can't. They PAID for those rocks. I can't just steal them. It would be wrong.)
All that to say, please appreciate the labor involved in creating these totally useless pieces of colourful art. I risked my left knee to get something large and flat and smooth to paint on.
I'm at the lake this weekend, and there was no forecast for rain, so I placed my newly acquired rocks in a pile in the middle of the outside table. And as I painted, I placed the finished rocks onto the pile.
It occurred to me that I'd built an Ebenezer.
EBENEZER: It comes from a Hebrew phrase that means “stone of help.” The name appears in the Biblical story told in the Book of 1 Samuel, in which the Hebrew prophet Samuel sets up a stone to commemorate the help that God had given the Israelites. ...
To commemorate God’s mighty intervention on behalf of his people,
Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen and called its name Ebenezer; for he said, “Till now the Lord has helped us.” So the Philistines were subdued and did not again enter the territory of Israel. And the hand of the Lord was against the Philistines all the days of Samuel. (1 Samuel 7:12–13)
In Hebrew, Ebenezer means “stone of help” (eben = stone; ezer = help). Samuel wanted the people to remember, not just for a few days, but for years, for decades, for generations, how God had come to the rescue of his people when they humbled themselves before him. They were vulnerable, with their enemies approaching, and they did not deserve God’s rescue, having been chronically unfaithful. And yet in his gracious fidelity to his convent people, God intervened with thunder to throw Israel’s enemies in confusion and turn their enemies into the vulnerable nation.
...
Perfect, yes?
I want to remember, for days, years, decades and GENERATIONS how God brought me through this latest challenge and healed me of breast cancer. And I'll do it with rocks/stones.
One of my boys wondered if I had depression; he thought this rock painting phase was a cry for help for my mental health.
Another one of my sons is worried that I've lost my way. He thinks my life must feel empty and meaningless and lacking in purpose if I've resorted to painting rocks on my long weekend.
Hahaha.
None of the above are true.
I started painting rocks because I wanted there to be fun things on trails for kids to find.
Then I continued painting for the challenge of learning how to do mandalas.
And now, I can say I have a spiritual purpose in painting. They're my way of saying thank you to God. I'm making tiny Ebenezers.
That said, I've decided I'm going to sell most of the larger ones.
For $20 each.
100% of all proceeds will go towards helping my new English Twitter friend pay for surgery. (Our friendship started when I was having daily radiation in January. My health has improved while hers has deteriorated. Covid isn't helping matters. I'd love to be able to send her some funds to help her get the medical attention she needs...)
(My smaller ones will still be "hidden" on trails and gardens and pathways. And I haven't figured out how to deal with actually selling the mandalas. Ideas, anyone?)
Here I raise my Ebenezer Here there by Thy great help I've come And I hope, by Thy good pleasure Safely to arrive at home
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thought I'd take a YAY! The oncologist confirmed I'm cancer-free ... Selfie this week.
So awkward:
No filters. No photo-touching. Just me.
AND then I thought.... I should have a pic with my teeth in it. After all, I was getting alot of dental work done last summer too.
OY.
Fake smile.
And bunched up eyes.
With eyeliner that was still wet.
This is why I don't smile with my teeth.
It wrecks my make up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Speaking of last week, it was grand.
Last Saturday Maxine and I fed the homeless. I have two pictures:
The menu was cheeseburgers (patties made by Maxine from scratch) with fried onions and potato salad (also homemade, by Maxine). My contribution to the meal was the lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, buns and watermelon.
(I had a burger and some salad and it was absolutely DELISH.)
On Sunday, Clint looked after the 'mouse under the kitchen sink' issue:
(Plug the hole they're entering from (where the plumbing pipes exit the cabinet) with steel wool.
And then he took everything out and washed away the turds.
Then went back to work, checking the value of our Pokemon cards, leaving me to put everything away. I guess that was a good division of labor.
Starting the week with a clean 'under the kitchen sink cabinet' is a very good feeling.
Monday night was rock painting night, again, with Rock Star Julie and a couple friends. I love these nights. Three of these rocks were painted by first time artists:
This was Julie's:
I have SO much to learn. I have dot envy.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday after work:
Eating supper with a friend in her garden is really just the best, yes?
Thanks, Maureen...
~~~~~~~~
Wednesday after work:
Donna was diagnosed with cancer a few months ago, and she's started her 6 months of chemo...
I was planning on popping in to say 'hi'; NOT have her prepare a meal for me:
She looks fabulous: (she's making me a goodie bag to take home with me...)
Selfless.
Gracious.
Generous.
~~~~~~~~~~
Thursday evening, at the Vedder:
One of the arms of the river had dried up, leaving MILLIONS of rocks exposed and dying to be chosen...
I could only carry 23.
But they were beauties:
~~~~~~~~~~~
On Friday evening, I asked Val if she wanted to meet me at White Spot and then go for a walk in Jesse and Sharalin's garden. (Also known as the Cultus Lake Flower Festival)...
Hahaha.
I have the best people in my life.
SO many home-cooked meals and great conversation this week.
And then we walked around her garden for more colour combination inspiration:
^ This one inspired her next rock; orange, pink and white. It was cheerful and beautiful.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Long weekends are just so very low-key during Covid, yes?
Our Annual Regatta was cancelled. No gatherings or races, no dinner in the park, no fireworks on the beach, no potsnpans parade ...
It was actually lovely.
(Mostly) quiet.
Drew and Dani spent alot of time reading:
Plus she painted rocks with me...
(Hers are the 'word' rocks. )
Today? Sunday afternoon? We both took our chairs and our books to the lake and read for a couple hours. As I sat there, I asked myself, "Is there anywhere you'd rather be?" The answer was no. So I stopped reading, put my head back and just let the beauty of the moment sink in. I was perfectly content and at peace with my world.
Three things I'm Thankful For:
1. I'm cancer-free.
2. Clint, Drew and Dani are hanging out here; reading, napping, snacking ... Everyone's tired and just needed a break. It's Covid, so we have no extra guests. It's very quiet. Hours go by when no one says a word. Very relaxing. Kinda how I dreamed it would be. (Max is with friends at Tofino for the week. He's sending us pics of his vacation and I'm happy that it's started well for him.)
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