The First Noel

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Photo: Sweet*Shot on Flickr

This year is Mini-Boy’s first Christmas and he seems to sense the excitement… he sure does enjoy the lights on the Christmas tree. Maybe I’m the one who is excited about seeing him unwrap gifts for the first time while dressed in a Santa-suit sleeper on Christmas morning or maybe I’m just making it up.

It’s also the first Christmas without Dave.

We have to do things differently this year. Trying to continue with the same traditions we’d been building together over the years would, no doubt, feel forced and lacking. Not just for me, but for the rest of his family as well.

We used to go over to his mom’s house for Christmas breakfast of eggs in tomato sauce, hot capicollo and pan-fried oysters. We’d open our gifts together while Dave and his mom would begin to try to outdo one another in the kitchen in preparation for a multi-course feast. I think I have his grandma to blame for that one… the first time I participated in one of these meals was at his grandma’s apartment. She managed to serve a 7-course meal for around 12 people from her little galley kitchen. A family friend had mentored me through the process. “Just take a bite or two of each course. You need to be able to make it to the end.” Sage advice indeed.

The first Christmas we spent in our home after we were married, Dave decided to outdo even his grandma (sorry Susan). I lost track of how many courses he served to 14 people from our own tiny galley kitchen. The meal ended with flames in the kitchen as he served up Bananas Foster for everyone. It was pretty spectacular. In years following we have had our Christmas dinners at his mom’s place.

This year I wanted to offer his mom a rest.

I know this is hard for her. My life is in such flux right now that I’m really looking ahead to what is to come and this particular Christmas feels like a sort of single, random Christmas stuck between two existences. I had to fight the urge to not even do Christmas at all, but that wouldn’t have been fun or fair for my boys.

So I’m going to “do” Christmas this year… my way.

I’m not sure how good of a job I’m doing – I’ve never been good at sending out cards – but I got a tree and got it decorated. Dave’s mom helped decorate it with Mini-Man and he’s very excited about seeing the gifts arrive under it. He keeps asking each day, “Is tomorrow the day that there will be presents under the tree?” Sadly, I have come to the conclusion that all the gifts I so diligently bought way ahead of time are not going to wrap themselves and, thus, I must stop procrastinating and get it done. I’m excited about singing for the Christmas Eve services at my church and having Dave’s mom bring the boys there to celebrate before she takes them back to my place to tuck them in for the night. I’ll join her for a Christmas Eve beverage of the adult variety when I get home and we’ll get to work preparing the magic for the next morning. Christmas morning will see a quiet gift-opening at my place and then I’ll be getting busy preparing a turkey dinner.

I’ve never cooked a turkey on my own before.

When I went to Mexico in the early weeks after Dave died I recognized that I’d have to learn to do things that I considered “his job”. For instance, I had to learn to transform transformers. I know, this sounds random… and it is, but it’s similar to cooking a turkey for me. At first I kept resisting Mini-Man’s requests to have Bumblebee transformed because I didn’t know how to do it and I was angry that I even had to… that was Dave’s job. But he wasn’t here to do it anymore.

So I learned.

I sat down one night and spent a good hour figuring it out. When I finally got him from a robot back into a car I had an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. I know it probably sounds stupid, but it began a journey towards my feeling like I can manage. Like I can do all the things I need to do to get by without Dave. And so now I will learn to cook and serve a turkey dinner in the same manner. Well, maybe not the SAME manner… there is no way I’m doing a seafood course and a pasta course and all that stuff. But, I will cook a turkey complete with stuffing, veggies, potatoes, cranberry sauce, gravy and such.

I know I can do it. And I know it will be empowering but bittersweet.

The only one tradition I do want to keep is one we started just a couple of years ago with Mini-Man. On Christmas eve he’ll bake a birthday cake and for dessert after Christmas dinner we’ll sing happy birthday to Jesus and enjoy a piece of cake together.

After all, Christmas is about Jesus anyway. And birthday cake is WAY better than Christmas cake.

So this Christmas I want to embrace its uniqueness, love my family, sing some songs, learn some new skills and life lessons, bless others and thank God for sending the Savior.

For the love of powder

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Photo: Grouse Mountain on Flickr

Ahhhhh… finally powder.

See, I haven’t been snowboarding since the season before last. Last season I was pregnant until just after Christmas, recovering from childbirth for 2 months after that and then coping with Dave’s death. So I think the last time I was on the hill was early April 2009.

Wow that feels like a million years ago.

So yesterday my boys were invited to spend the night at their Nona’s house and I had the entire evening to myself. I was pleasantly surprised to find easy parking and no lineups for the Skyride at Grouse Mountain when I got there at about 3:30pm on a Saturday afternoon – the first Saturday of the Christmas break. When I got up top my spirits automatically lifted as I found the white fluffy gift from heaven falling plentifully  at my feet. There’s something about the brightness of the snow and how it seems infinitely drier than rain that makes me feel way better about life.

I strapped in to my brand new 2011 Bataleon Violenza 153 board with K2 Charm bindings… I haven’t enjoyed new gear since 2001 if you can believe. Well with enough snow falling that every run offered new freshies and an awesome new board I felt like I never wanted to leave! This new board rides like a dream – I couldn’t be happier. The visibility was sort of sketchy, though; it was dark and a bit foggy, plus of course it was snowing (not like the photo above)… and my goggles have a dark lens so it was kind of like I was riding with my eyes closed but then maybe that made it more fun.

I’ve got Mini-Man registered for 4 private ski lessons through Grouse Mountain’s Adopt An Instructor program since the procrastinator in me waited to long to get him into Ski Wee group lessons before Christmas. I think I’ll put him in Ski Wee for after Christmas if I get around to it. We’re going to spend New Year’s weekend with Big Mack and his family and we’ll spend at least a day at Mount Baldy where the Macks are season passholders.

I can’t bear the thought of not working in this industry anymore once I move to Oliver; I’m sure I’ll find a way to work something out ;)

The end of an era

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Well it feels like an era… 11 1/2 years, that is.

That’s how long I’ve been on the payroll at Grouse Mountain. And come January, I will return to work only part time after my maternity leave to help transition someone new in to my role as Marketing Manager.

It all started as a summer job.

I had been living in Penticton, BC and working at Apex Mountain Resort as a lift operator while I went to school. I earned a Bachelor’s degree in Business Administration with a concentration in Hotel & Restaurant Management from Okanagan University College (which is now Okanagan College and UBC Okanagan Campus) and I wanted to figure out how to get one of those very coveted year-round jobs in the ski industry in BC’s interior. They are very few and far-between to say the least. So I began working as a Guest Services Representative at Grouse Mountain as a way to get my foot in the door with arguably one of the most successful year-round ski/recreation areas in the country. My plan at the beginning of summer 1999 had been to work there for the summer before going to Nelson, BC where I had been registered for the Selkirk College Ski Resort Operations & Management diploma program. Well due to a personal situation I didn’t end up going to Nelson; I stayed in North Vancouver, met Dave – the man I would later marry, and took on the position of Executive Assistant to the VP Marketing, also one of Grouse Mountain’s owners.

Over a year as her EA gave me a huge overview into the world of resort management. During that time, the owners of Grouse Mountain were heavily involved in the launching of Kicking Horse Mountain Resort in Golden BC, so I also got to play a little part in it, which gave me huge insight into what it takes to build a four-season destination resort from scratch – it afforded me the opportunity to see and hear things I never would have seen or heard otherwise and I feel very blessed to have gained that amount of knowledge in such a short period of time.

During my time as EA, however, I realized I wasn’t on the right career path for me. I remember waking up one morning thinking, “What am I doing!? I want to HAVE an EA… not BE one.” So after an oddly stressful moment and the extension of way more grace than I was deserving of from the VP Marketing, I was handed the position of Marketing Coordinator. That was early in 2001.

Since then my position within the marketing team has shifted and morphed and moved and stretched and shifted again until I found myself in the position of Marketing Manager for Vancouver’s most-visited destination and an organization that I am very proud to be a part of. I have had the opportunity to grow my career within the safety of a company that appreciates me and my efforts and gives me the freedom to try new things. I was able to go out on a limb and lead the company into new marketing channels like social networking on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and Flickr before it hit the mainstream and blogging when other companies didn’t have the confidence to get in there and jump in to these then-emerging areas.

It’s strange when I think that I’ll be giving up a position I absolutely love with a company I have grown to adore filled with people I now consider some of my closest friends… but the future is before me and I’m excited to say I have no idea, really, where it will take me in the long run.

What I do know, however, is it will take me to Oliver BC, where I will become a stay-at-home mom to 5 kids when I marry Big Mack in April.

While I’m very excited to have found a partner I couldn’t possibly be more compatible with (thank you God!), I never thought I’d want to be a stay-at-home mom at all… let alone one to five children. But the last 9 months since Dave’s death have taught me just how important the people in our lives are and how we need to cherish and nurture those relationships. It’s more important to me that I raise my kids in a wholesome home environment than it is that I continue to live and work here in North Vancouver where my modest 800 square foot condo bears the same value as a 4-5 bedroom house in Oliver. Besides, I find it terribly ironic that I had always had the intention of moving back to the Okanagan all those years ago and had contemplated revisiting the idea even before I met Big Mack.

Just last year I couldn’t imagine leaving North Vancouver. Now I can’t imagine staying.

The thought of a new start in a new town with new people and a new outlook is very freeing… refreshing even. I look forward to seeing what God has in store for me. In the meantime, I will spend my final months in Vancouver working part time, recording an album of original music, snowboarding as much as I can, planning a wedding and spending time with my kids and the Macks.

I look forward to continuing to share the journey with you.

And the earth continues to spin

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Photo: Pete on flickr

It’s been over 8 months now since Dave died and the earth continues to spin; creation is alive all around us. The sun rises and sets; the tides change and people are moving around this earth at a harried pace.

As my kids have grown and changed over that short time, so have I. Where once I was blessed to be able to claim a peace that could come only from God in the midst of one of life’s greatest trials, I can now claim something even better: Joy.

My heart is filled with it.

It’s a very profound experience… losing a loved one. So profound that it can’t really be explained. Sure, I can tell you what I’m thinking and what I’ve experienced and how that has played out in my life but there’s really no way for anyone who hasn’t experienced it to understand it in any tangible way. Even for those who have lost someone close to them, their ability to understand someone else’s similar yet entirely different situation is weak.

Even if you think you understand for a second, it’s gone as quickly as it came.

Losing a spouse is different from losing a child or a parent or a grandparent or a sibling or a friend. And me losing my spouse is different from you losing your spouse. I realized that no one can feel what I’m feeling and it can be a very lonely place to be, really. But what it has done is make me dig in and seek out my peace, my comfort and my purpose in God through my relationship with Jesus Christ.

I know Mini-Man is experiencing his father’s death all on his own and that kills me. The fact that I can’t understand exactly what he’s going through in his little 4 year old head makes me want to cry for him. He will one day grow up and realize he had to go through his own process that will likely take much of his life to fully understand. And while I want to help him in whatever way I can, he will one day realize I have no idea what I’m doing and if what I am doing is even helping. I’m still conflicted about the thought that Mini-Boy won’t even ever remember his dad. Is that worse? Better?

I don’t know.

If there is only one thing I do know, though, it is that this lifetime is about relationships. Nothing more; nothing less. Nothing else matters. Not our jobs, not our possessions, not where we live, not our hobbies, not our cars, our houses, our clothes, our appearance. It’s our relationships, our experiences and our unique gifts and histories that paint a picture of life that we can share with others. It’s about loving and living and sharing and giving and enjoying creation. It’s about being good stewards of what we have and using our experiences to comfort others.

It’s about serving one another.

This life is filled with trial. My story certainly isn’t the worst one out there… people have gone through far worse situations than mine: war, famine, poverty, violence, oppression, abandonment, abuse. I don’t feel sorry for me… never have. God knows the bigger picture. And just because I don’t see it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

And I trust in that bigger picture.

The earth continues to spin. My heart is joyful. God is working out a beautiful story in my life. I am engaged to be married again. I have no explanation or apology for this and I believe with all my heart that it’s part of that bigger picture… God’s plan.

I will write more as thes story continues to unfold.

If you’re new to my blog or have just stumbled upon it through a search engine, you can read all the entries about the death of my husband here.

Second Child

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Photo: Britannia Willes

So I was feeding Mini Boy earlier today and I was thinking how different it is with the second child.

When Mini Man was born, I vowed to be the perfect mother. I was going to get him to sleep perfectly, eat nothing but organic and whole earthy foods, nurse until he was in kindergarten and know all the countries of the world and their states, provinces and capitals by 8 months. He would be taught to crawl at 4 months, walk at 6 months and be snowboarding by the time he was two. He would learn violin at the age of 3 and write his first concerto by the time he was 5.

Well… now I get to enjoy number two.

Today I found myself feeding him Kraft Dinner and getting excited that he can clap at 10 months.

Morning mind-shift

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Photo: hddod on Flickr

I have to admit I’m not at my best first thing in the morning.

Getting up early in the morning was so much more enjoyable before I had kids. I’d get up between 5 and 6am, make coffee, sit around and watch the early news on TV, bumble around the house… have a shower and slowly get ready to face my day.

As any parent knows, however, when you have kids your day is going to get started whether you’re ready for it or not. It usually starts with the sound of a small child’s voice saying, “Hi Mommy!” And I have come to the conclusion that there is one, and only one, very specific thing I can do to make sure each day starts off well:

I must get up before my kids.

See, if I wake up to a little face peering at me – no matter the size of the grin on it – I am usually not in the right head space to get up and be the best mom I can be. Waking up to immediately fulfilling others’ needs even irritates me a little if I’m being honest. I’m just not that selfless. I wish I were. I SO wish I were… it would make those middle-of-the-night crying/barfing/falling-out-of-bed moments that much easier to deal with. However, I am not. So while I am very good in a crisis, fulfilling plain old everyday kid-needs goes so much more smoothly when I’ve had a chance to get my head on straight beforehand.

And so I must get up before my kids; in fact, my best days start at 5:30 am.

My best days start with a cup of way-too-strong coffee from my French press, my backside firmly planted in my favourite corner of my couch and the coffee table pulled close. I get out my bible and a devotional book and put them on the table with my coffee… and I pray. My best prayers usually pour out first thing in the morning before the day has wrapped around me and surrounded me with detail.

I then open up my devotional book to find the day’s scripture passage – I find having a devotional book helps direct my bible reading; I wouldn’t really know where to begin without one. I often find relevance in whatever passage I read. It almost always seems to be on a topic that has either been on my mind or applies to a specific situation I’m currently dealing with. For instance, just this morning I was praying that my life would be a testimony of God’s goodness; that somehow the way I live my life would show evidence of God’s love to those around me. After all, sometimes I think people who know me outside of my church life would have no idea I’m even a Christian, or worse: that they would know I profess to be a spirit-filled follower of Jesus but my actions don’t indicate any love for others. So I pray often hat I would love others in a very genuine and practical way.

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” Matthew 22:37-40

“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” John 13:34-35

Then this morning’s reading was from Matthew 5:13-20 on being “Salt and Light” and I was reminded of the commandment to “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven”.

This little morning ritual helps me to get my head wrapped around the most important things each day before I have to selflessly give of myself to my kids. In fact, after spending this short but so meaningful time I usually find I’m more than willing to pour out my love to my family and friends.

It’s funny what just a little mind shift can do. Now if I could just be disciplined enough to go to bed early.

Organized Religion: Parental Guidance Suggested

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Photo: bradjward on Flickr

I have been thinking about so much stuff lately… my mind is like a circus! I’m not even terribly certain I can put into some kind of reasonable sense of order the things I want to share with you today, but here it goes anyway:

According to canadianchristianity.com’s The State of the Local Church 2010, “Weekly church attendance has dropped from about 70 percent of the Canadian population in the 1950s to 20 percent today.” Yet fully three quarters of Canadians claim to be Christian according to Wikipedia.

It used to be that families attended church out of tradition or a sense of moral obligation. It was considered normal and a sign of being of good character. Many people grew up believing they were Christians simply because their parents took them to church and they knew all about the gospel message. Nowadays our society has shifted away from church attendance. Our social and religious norms now include questioning every practice and every principle in order to make our own determinations as to their validity based on own own moral values. It’s not that I think there is anything wrong with this questioning… quite the contrary: I think questioning is a good thing; it allows us to really contemplate and develop conviction in what we believe and why. It allows us to seek hard after our purpose and meaning in this life. And I truely believe we’ll find the answers if we are open to them:

For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. [Matthew 7:8; Luke 11:10]

Having said that, the current lack of church attendance has led to a growing number of people in our country who have never even heard the gospel of Christ nor read anything from the bible. It has also led, in part, to the prevalence of what I’ll call selective Christianity – the acceptance of parts of the message but not all of it.

The Rejection of Organized Religion

I hear it said all the time: “Oh I don’t believe in organized religion.” Or, “Oh I believe in God, but not in organized religion.” “I’m very spiritual; I have my own beliefs.” It has become trendy to reject the major religions of the world and embrace new-age principles and eastern philosophies instead. Many people in this world seem to have developed their own sense of faith that borrows a little bit from each religion or faith system to create whatever works for them.

Here’s my question to those people: “How’s that actually working out for you?”

Photo: amanky on Flickr

I hear people claim Christianity but then also claim they don’t go to church nor do they need to. Okay, that’s true I suppose… you can confess faith in Jesus Christ, pray to God and read the bible without ever setting foot in a church. However,  the scriptures do say Christians should meet together for several reasons:

The Bible tells us we need to attend church so we can worship God with other believers and be taught His Word for our spiritual growth (Acts 2:42; Hebrews 10:25). Church is the place where believers can love one another (1 John 4:12), encourage one another (Hebrews 3:13), “spur” one another (Hebrews 10:24), serve one another (Galatians 5:13), instruct one another (Romans 15:14), honor one another (Romans 12:10), and be kind and compassionate to one another (Ephesians 4:32). [Source]

I can’t speak for anyone else, but I go to church because I adore being there. If there were more services I’d attend those too… in fact, I also enjoy listening to sermons I download on iTunes and still others I watch on YouTube. I receive devotional messages to my email and I have even been known to stay through both services at my church on a Sunday just because I wanted to be there. Some people describe me as a very religious person, but I just love hanging out with like-minded people and growing and serving with them. Plus, I feel like I get a lot out of going, too. The pastors there are great speakers and my church friends are like family to me. I want to know how to apply all that wisdom and knowledge to my life; and I find that doing so makes my life easier, more joyful and more peaceful.

The truth is, I don’t actually consider myself religious at all. I consider “religious” to mean adhering to a set of rules, reading prayers written out by others, standing when told to stand, sitting when told to sit, forcing a set of guidelines and dragging yourself to a room full of other equally unenthused people doing the same things in the hope of maybe being chosen by a holy God to receive salvation upon death. I simply consider that I have a personal relationship wtih the living God… I talk to Him… I hear from Him… I want to know Him more. I want to know His plan for my life… I want to live that out.

I want, more than anything, to be who I was created to be.

The only reason I’m writing all this down is that my heart aches for all those people out there who are hurting or who are seeking for a deeper meaning to their life. I am convinced we are created by God in His image; our spirits know there is more – we were created to know our creator! Why do you think people spend so much time considering and seeking the purpose of life? All the while they are being bombarded by messages about how evil the church systems are, how corrupt and how dangerous organized religion can be and even just how uncool it is to accept that there is any possibility that the bible might actually be the true, inspired Word of God. So where does that leave them? Floundering to intellectually create their own god using selective Christianity or some other philosophy or faith system.

So going back to my earlier statement, there is a growing number of people in our country who have never even heard the gospel of Christ nor read anything from the bible. In fact, am going to bet that many who reject the teachings of Christianity and the bible have never actually read it nor heard it preached in any way.

Parental Guidance Suggested

If you’re a parent you might, more easily, see where I’m coming from on this one. But if you aren’t a parent, that’s okay… if you had parents you might also be able to track with me here.

Photo: ryk_neethling on Flickr

As a parent, you know things. You know about life, you have experiences to draw upon, you have wisdom you’ve gained from years of living. You want to impart that wisdom and that insight to your children so that they might have a successful future. You want to provide love and guidance; you want to set boundaries and discipline them. You want them to grow up to be people of good character. So you love them with all your heart and you provide for them and you give them good things and you set rules for them to follow. You insist upon certain behaviour else you will implement certain consequences. You want to teach them that there are natural consequences of their actions while not allowing them to feel the full brunt of their mistakes. You want them to make it to adulthood, after all.

If you’re a parent you know your kids better than they know themselves. You know what way they’ll respond to certain circumstances; you know how to best encourage them. You know when what they need is more love vs. more discipline. You know when they’re tired, when they’re hungry and when they’re just grumpy. You want to give them everything they need – they don’t need to ask for those things – but you want to teach them to be grateful for them. You want to give them many of the things they want… unless of course you think getting what they want will be a detriment to them. You want them to talk to you. You want them to open up and share their hearts with you… what’s going on in their lives. You want to know how they feel and what their struggles are. You want to help them. You also want them to ask for what they want, even if you know what that might be.

Do you see the parallel here? Can you see God as a loving father? Can you see the bible as something like the written memoirs of a loving father for his children, grandchildren and generations to come?

Only it’s way better than that.

Kids need love, discipline, boundaries; they need to explore their environment, learn and grow. They need someone to guide them and direct them and someone to keep them in line. A loving parent looks only to help them be the best human being they can be. God wants that for you. He wants you to be his child and He wants to father you, hear your heart, help you grow and become everything you were created to be.

We reject the notion of organized religion because we are told that once we’re adults and out of the care of our own parents we should not be accountable to anyone or anything. But God is our Father. He’s the God of all creation who fashioned you together with all your beautiful intricacies and a specific purpose.

Are you living out that purpose?

Maybe you need some parental guidance from your Father.

A new perspective from Miss Mack

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I’d like to introduce you to someone: It’s not that I feel the need to share the details of my relationship with you just because, but I’d like to set the context for this post if I could. I have been hanging out with Big Mack for a few months now and we are very much enjoying getting to know one another. In fact, it’s safe to say we know each other very well at this point. He lives in another part of our lovely province – the Okanagan Valley. Ahhhh how I love the Okanagan Valley… so beautiful. And very little rain = win. So between us, we have been traveling back and forth and finding time to spend together every week or two. This driving time – roughly 5 hours each way – has given me plenty of opportunity to ponder things in depth, listen to sermons, sing at the top of my lungs with no one laughing, and just think about the greater things in life. It’s been quite theraputic.

So anyway, here are the details: Big Mack is only slightly older than I am, he is a Christian, he is divorced, he has a great job, he has 3 children and he is quite awesome if I might say so. After all, we have a lot in common and, well… I am quite awesome. Okay… perhaps he’s a little more humble than I. Or a lot more. Whatever.

I have now had the opportunity to spend 3 visits with Big Mack’s kids. They are 6 (girl), 7 (boy) and 10 (girl). It’s been really fun spending time with girls. It’s been a long time. I lived with a partner many years ago before I met my late husband and he had two girls that I grew to love. It’s nice having girls around again. This past weekend, I had the opportunity to sit with Big Mack’s oldest girl – I’ll call her Miss Mack – and have a nice conversation about stuff, get to know her, and really listen to what she wanted to say. Well something she said that prompted a revelation in me:

I don’t take enough time to really be 100% present with my own kids.

See, when I take the time to prepare everything at home – arrange for childcare, plan everything that needs to be planned and commit to not doing anything (read: chores) in my home environment for a time, I am free to visit with Big Mack and his family without a thought about the things I “should” or “could” be doing. There are no errands to run and none of those nagging little jobs that have been on my to-do list for months that I really should get around to doing at some point. I make myself present for those with whom I am visiting. I am free to focus on them. I am free to give them my attention so I can really hear what it is they are saying to me. I am free to relax and laugh and enjoy them. I am free to get to know them deep down inside because I am free from the distractions of everyday life and I can take the time to ask questions that may produce a long answer.

Why, then, do I not take the time to elevate the quality of my own family time?

There is no good answer. See, it’s not that there were no chores to do at all – in fact, when I’m visiting with the Macks I’m helping them out and Big Mack certainly can’t ignore all the ongoing chores required in a home with 3 kids – there were plenty of crunchy things on the floor, socks on the coffee table and dishes to wash at all times – just so he can spend time with me. However, I found myself being more relaxed and accepting of daily “stuff” and perfectly willing to just get it done so we could enjoy our time together. At home I find I don’t want to let that stuff just sit there even though my son wants me to spend time with him.

This will change now.

When a child opens up to you about something on their heart, it is a precious gift. And how we react as parents can have a lasting effect on their sense of security, confidence and trust. I want my boys to always know that I love them, that my love for them is unconditional, that I want to know what’s going on with them, that they are more important than the chores on my list. I want to know what they’re thinking way in the depths of their hearts and I want them to trust me to always make them a higher priority than random busy-ness, dirty dishes and laundry.

So I’m living and learning… and I’m just so grateful that I could sit with 10 year old Miss Mack and learn to be a better parent from her.

Sometimes it’s all a matter of perspective.

Life in a fish bowl

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Photo: Alloppp on Flickr

I know that being a blogger and sharing of my life with the entire internet kind of puts me out there. I get it. I have chosen this. But I’d like to vent for just a moment.

I’m a little angry.

Maybe it’s a grief thing; but maybe it’s just a human thing. I don’t react well to being judged by others. I never have. All my life I’ve been the kind of person to endure overwhelming anxiety at the thought of letting anyone down – especially those I care about. I care so deeply that I can’t bear the thought of people being even the slightest bit disappointed in me.

But here’s the thing: I’m a big girl now; this is my life and I’m the only one who can live it.

I am not unaware that everyone seems to have their own opinion about how I should conduct myself in my personal life in light of my husband’s death. It’s one thing to have an opinion but it’s another altogether to voice it to me… or worse: to other people. What irritates me even more is I hear that those who are sharing their opinions don’t even know me at all; they just know of me. I have been given plenty of opinions to date: I have been told I shouldn’t date anyone until my kids are grown up and I have also been told I’m completely unavailable for an emotional relationship and, therefore, I should simply have indiscriminate sex with whomever I like.

Well thank you for your wisdom all. Now that I know the outer parameters of my situation, please allow me to select a point on that spectrum for further consideration, m’kay?

I don’t mind being vulnerable. I don’t mind sharing my situation in hopes that someone might benefit somehow from something I might say. I hope I can inspire people or, at the very least, make people smile or laugh. I’ll even share some thoughts and emotions that might make your gut churn at the thought. I have always been painfully honest… blunt even. But at least no one can say I’m not genuine. I would hope those who have been following my story – especially those who claim to care about me and my kids – can find it within themselves to recognize that this has been a crazy year for me and it’s not done yet. I may not be sitting around my home crying my eyes out and seeing a therapist, but this has definitely been the most profound thing I’ve ever dealt with. And I am dealing.

Please be gentle with me; I’m not heartless.

Here’s the explanation for my peace and my joy: I still completely believe God’s hand is directing my life. I believe He has been guiding me and preparing me and molding me and leading me to where I am today… through meeting and marrying Dave and having my kids right down to introducing me to the man I have chosen to pursue a new relationship with. I believe God has redeemed everything I’ve ever done that was outside of His perfect plan for my life and I believe He is going to take me into my future. I have complete peace about what I’m doing. My faith has never been stronger than it is right now and those of you who don’t believe as I do won’t understand it. Oh how I wish you could. I wish you could see the world through my eyes for just one day. I wish for that – no, I pray for that – all the time.

If you know me, please trust me. Trust that I know what I’m doing. I’m pretty intelligent and I’ve never given anyone a reason not to trust me. You don’t have to worry about me or my kids. In fact, when others say they worry about my kids I find it insulting. I love my kids more than anyone else on earth and I’d never do anything I felt wasn’t in their best interest.

And if you don’t know me well enough to know where I’m really coming from, please don’t judge me. You aren’t living my life.

Where’s your joy?

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Photo: xymox on Flickr

When you get up in the morning, what’s the first thought that crosses your mind? Is it positive or negative?

I find this world is becoming increasingly negative. We procrastinate because we don’t want to do the things we should. We can’t be bothered. We want everything the way we want it and we want it now. I was watching a talk from Barry Schwartz on the paradox of choice on ted.com recently and he hypothesized that because we have so many choices – nearly endless in many cases – we are unhappy when something does not fully meet our expectations. We are no longer ever pleasantly surprised when something turns out to be better than we thought it would be.

Nothing is ever better than we think it will be thanks to our ridiculously high expectations.

Do you complain about going to work? Not having enough money? Not having a big enough or nice enough home? Not having a partner? Not liking the partner you do have? Your kids are driving you crazy? You don’t have kids and you want them? You have kids and you don’t want them? Do you complain about your friends, your in-laws, your teachers, your boss? Do you complain that your restaurant meal was not to your liking or the service you received didn’t come with a smile?

Do you like to laugh at other people? Do you look at someone and silently – or even right out loud – comment that they’re too fat or too skinny, they have funny-looking hair, went too far with the self-tanner, dress poorly, walk funny?

Where is all this coming from? Where is the joy?

Someone once gave me a piece of advice I’ll never forget… something that changed me forever: They said, “No one wants to hear you complain all the time. Just stop.”

See, because I was uncomfortable with who I was – I was socially awkward and had a somewhat lowered sense of self esteem – I used complaining and negativity as an ice breaker… a conversation starter. If I were to complain about something or someone, surely another person who agreed with me would chime in and we could be miserable together. It wasn’t until someone really drew my attention to it that I realized just how bad it had become.

I think the whole world needs the same kick in the pants that guy gave to me those many years ago.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope. [Romans 15:13]

I know where my joy comes from.