Summer Daze

A rainy summer Sunday afternoon and I am feeling the full weight of fear.
I don't want to think about it. Research it. Prepare for it. Talk about it. Read about it.

Distracting myself has been unsuccessful.
Taking a nap didn't work.
Oy. How do people do this?

 My surgery date has been bumped to Sept 3, so I have an extra 10 days to not-fret. I do not know how I'll get through them without believing every ache and bump on my body is a cancer cell growing. Currently I'm sure this tender spot on my hip is an indicator of wide-spread, aggressive bone cancer. I am driving myself mental. I understand why my kids want me to start smoking weed; being this aware, this hyper alert, is crazy-making x 1000.

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Walked the seawall on Thursday night with a friend.
"I can't believe you have cancer. You look like you always do. Healthy. Alive. You look like Jane."
"I know, right?"

Friday morning one of my sales reps dropped by. He brought me hugs and tears and well-wishes and a stuffed lion he named Courgy (short for courage)...
By the time he left I was crying again. Acts of kindness and words of compassion Just Do Me In.

Friday afternoon, my team was sitting on our rooftop patio having Starbuck's bevvies bought for us by our boss. I was drinking water. As per usual.

"You're drinking water?"
"Yeah. I'm not a coffee drinker."
"What about tea? Or a fruity drink?"
"Nahhh. If I'm thirsty, water is the only thing that quenches. And if I need to drink something to be socialable, I'll sip a tea and leave most of it."
"What do you drink when you're at home?"
"Water."
"What? Really? Do you drink wine?"
"Nah. I'm really a boring beverage person."
"When you're at the lake? And it's hot? A pop?"
"No, seriously. I drink water."
"Whoa. You must be SO healthy!"
"RIGHT!? You'd think..."

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Friday after work I started in on my pre-surgery To Do list.
I need to bring a front-opening button-up shirt to the surgical centre.
I do not own one.
I may never have owned one.

Now I do.
✅ Check that off the list.

Next up? A sports bra. Apparently my red lace push-up bit isn't suitable.

Then I walked the riverfront in New West at the Quay with a friend.

She had big sad things in her life too.

As do most people.

Life is hard sometimes.

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And sometimes it's soft.

On Saturday evening, the Stapes and the O's celebrated Drewbs's bday:

We love our devices.

Thanks, family of girls, for joining my family of boys.
#summerevenings

While the kids played Yahtzee outside,

Clint was working inside:

... which brings us back to Sunday, when I had a bit of a crash, emotionally speaking.

I don't want to die.

And on Sunday afternoon I was convinced I was gonna.

You're not going to believe what I found to be comforting at the end of the day.
Hahahaha.
Courgy. The stuffed lion. I just stroked his very soft fur and it calmed me.

Go figure.

(Well, there was likely a person or two praying for me as well, which probably helped.)
:)

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I was back at work on Monday, trying to get catch up from missed days. Trying to prepare for future missed days. Trying to get back in control. I was marginally successful. Meaning it was a regular non-cancer day. Life felt normal again.

I met Dani at the lake at 9 pm. She has this week off and wondered if I was free to hang out with her for a few days.

(I know, right?!)

It's now Tuesday night. All the ambitious things we thought we might do are not going to happen. So far we've watched Season 2 of Downton Abbey, (It's her first time; so fun!), suntanned and read at the water's edge, did some shopping, went out for dinner, AND WANDERED THROUGH THE WILDFLOWERS at Jesse and Sharalin's Cultus Lake Flower Festival.

I am so, so grateful that she's part of my family.

Three things I'm thankful for:

1. Summer days with this girl.
2. Flowers. Flowers. Flowers.
3. My camera.
4. Praying friends.
5. Supportive family.
6. Comfy beds.
7. English TV shows.
8. Left-over ice-cream cake.
9. Super soft stuffed lions.
10. Hope.

Peace, friends
xo

Good Friday

For 13 years, I've avoided it.
Because once you've seen something, you can't un-see it.

But a few days ago, with Danica's urging, I went to Village Church's Good Friday Service and saw clips of The Passion of the Christ.

Oy.

It's one thing to have head knowledge of the Crucifixion.
It's another thing, totally, to see one take place in front of you on a big screen with booming sound.

It kinda wrecked me.

I left the service, drove over to Crescent Beach, sat on a bench, watched the sun set, shivered in the cold, and thought about His horrific death. And what it meant. What it means. And why, if this was always part of the eternal, divine plan to save us, did it have to be such a torturous event? If dying for our sins was the only way to reconcile us with God, why couldn't it have been an easier passing? Was all the flogging, whipping, beating, ripping of skin, pounding of nails ... was all that absolutely necessary?

Because.
Because.

That was the worst.

I can't even.

At moments I was aching for Him. The pain. And at other times, I was aching for His mom, who was RIGHT THERE, watching her son, do this for us. Her pain.

And then I cried for us. For me.
He did that, for us.
Because. Love.

Feeling so unworthy.

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Some images will haunt for a long time.

And it's a good thing.

My Sunday School version of the Crucifixion was too Disney.
Easter changed for me this year.



Three things I'm thankful for:

1. The cross.
2. Love.
3. Forgiveness

Amen.


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So.

This pic:

Was taken by the man from India after an evening of walking and talking along the seawall with Kim. (City pics of walk and aqua bus jaunt are on Instagram. )

We'd just walked 7K and were relaxing on our recliners on the dock at Olympic Village, when this fella, who was busy taking selfies, noticed us.

He asked Kim to take a wide angle shot of him, so while she did that, I took at pic of her taking a pic of him.

Then he asked if I could take some pics of him and her together, assuring us he wasn't hitting on anyone. He has a wife and family back home...

Kim is such a good sport.

After a couple dozen pics, they exchanged email addresses so that I could get my pics over to him.

(I would have been part of the email exchange gathering too, except I didn't have my (reading) glasses along, so I couldn't see any of the fine print on my phone. Haha.)

So I just kept taking pics.

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Totally different topic.
From this article:

Important questions you should ask your parents:

1. What was your childhood like?

2. What were you like in high school?

3. How would your parents have described you?

4. When you think about a fork in the road in your life, what was it and why did you choose that particular path?

5.What happy memory will you cherish forever?

6. What was your second choice for my name?

7. What have you always wanted to tell me, but haven't had the courage to?

8. Growing up, who inspired you the most?

9. If you had to do it all over again, would you pursue the same career path?

10. What is your biggest regret?

11. Best trip of your life?

12. What amazes you most about society nowadays?

13. What do you miss most about the 'old days'?

14. Looking back at your life thus far, what are you most proud of?

15. What did you discover in the last decade or two that you wish you discovered sooner?

16. Favourite place you have lived?

17. What were you doing when you were my age?

18. What advice would you give your 40-year-old self?

19. When did you know that you wanted to marry mom/dad?

20. What do you remember most about your wedding day?

21. What do you wish you made more time in your life for?

22. What do you wish you spent less time doing?

23. What family tradition do you cherish the most?

24. What have YOU always wanted to ask ME?

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I love this photo series. 

Ten to twelves year old girl's faces taking about what they want to do when they grow up. 

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I love handwriting.

I think it's beautiful. 

And these examples? Are stunning. Like, artwork. 

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On addiction. 

I'm thankful that he has come out the other end.  Read Cory's story here.

On a hot June Sunday when he was two, Corey Reid was with his aunt beside the pool deck of the apartment building that his parents managed in London, Ont. A naked man jumped from the top of the building and landed, fatally, inches from him.

“He is too young to have any memories,” his 18-year-old mother was told, so no help was given to deal with the grisly trauma...

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Do you have a child in addiction? Is your heart broken? Are you living in fear? Are you worried that God isn't listening to your prayers? Are you mourning the family you used to have? Are you wondering 'why us'?

Here's what I shared with a friend the other day.

• Your child's story isn't over. You're just part way through. God's stories always have surprise twists and unexpected turns. And the best part? God's story lines always have the intent of bringing those in them closer to Him.
• Our children are not perfect and our families haven't turned out the way we thought they would. But we love them even more through the ugliness because that's what Jesus would do.

  The world is watching us love each other at our worst and this, more than anything is our testament that God is greater. Greater than addiction. Greater than depression. Greater than unmet expectations. Greater than gut wrenching fear. Greater than disappointment.
• 
  

  He can and will do great things in and through your family. For His good purposes.

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And one last thing.

It's from a Beth Moore devotional which was read last Monday at work. Everything about it? I loved.

The reason God wanted us to have the Bible?

Was so that we could learn about Him.

And what do we learn in the very first few verses?

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.The earth was formless and empty, and darkness covered the deep waters. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the waters.

Then God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. And God saw that the light was good. Then he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light “day” and the darkness “night.”

And evening passed and morning came, marking the first day.

We learn that God is creative. 

He makes things. He creates. 

He enjoyed creating the world. 

He likes what He created. He called it good.

AND we learn that He is organized.

He had a plan. 

He knew on Day One what He'd be creating on Day Two.

And He knew what He'd be doing on Day Six. 

He created each day in the order that He did, because He knew what was coming next. 

If someone showed up on earth on Day Three, they'd be thinking, "What the heck kind of hot mess is this?" Because they were viewing things from a Day Three perspective. 

So, if you're viewing things from a Day Three perspective, relax. (Is it your life you're wondering about? Your child's life? Your spouse's?) He is creative. He likes making good things. And He is organized. He's got a plan. Day Four will be amazing. As will Days Five and Six. You can trust that He won't stop midway through this project. He finishes what He starts and It Is Always Good. Day Four? Will not look like anything you've seen before. It will be new. Because He can do that. 

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And that my friends? Is called a Brain Dump.

Out of my head and onto the screen. 

I should be able to sleep like a baby. (One of those sleeping babies. Not the kind that is up all night crying.)

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Three things I'm thankful for:

1. The series on Elijah that Northview is doing right now. I'd recommend this weekend's sermon if you only have time for one. 

2. Friends who invite you to join them on a trip to Vietnam and then make it the easiest trip to prepare for, ever, by making all the arrangements. 

3. Remote controls. Even if I have to point them at the components that are located behind me.

4. Weekends. 

5. White Spot.

6. The girls in my boys' lives.

7. Spring scents.

8. Moisturiser

9. Silence,

10. Clean sheets and fresh pillowcases.

Shalom,

xo