Soon

I would sit on your lap for hours. The creak creak of the rocking chair as you held me there. The smell of your skin. It was where I wanted to be. I told my brothers "She's MY Gramma." And you were. And you are. I don't remember a belly laugh, but I remember your giggles. When I visited you would buy every kind of fruit for me and giggle as I ate a whole watermelon. You held me as I cried after you let me watch Alfred Hitchcock's "Birds" and I bet you giggled after I finally fell asleep.

After a weekend with you when I was a toddler you handed me back to my Mom and said- "Well, she's potty trained!"

You travelled. You spoke of your travels. You taught me more of my Canadian history than any teacher. You painted. You loved puzzles. I cried into my pillow once when you left, begging God to bring you back. He did. And you giggled as I ran to you.

You told Jordan "Welcome to the family" long before we were engaged. You loved your children.

The last time I stayed with you we had the honour of sitting in on your devotions with Grandpa. You prayed for each of your children's family. Our family was Tuesday.

I am covered by your prayers.

You tied the bow for my bouquet as I walked down the aisle. You were so nervous you wouldn't get it right in front of the crowd. Once it was tied you breathed deep and giggled, I kissed your cheek and whispered that I loved you. I didn't have time to say that I hope to be half the wife you were to your first husband and second. I didn't have the time to say how honoured I was to have you as part of my legacy, my history. So I wrote it in a note instead.

You taught me how to glory in cooking. When something you cooked was divine you would voice it. "Aren't those potatoes tasty?" They were.

As I prayed on Wednesday, wishing I was beside you as you breathed, I listened to hymns and I pulled weeds. Flowers are poking up called "Grandma's Marigolds." You gave them to us in April.

You are in my garden.

I was surrounded by trees and people when the call came. It rained. I collapsed. Why is the now too soon? You loved to walk so I walked. And I marvelled in your life. I marvelled in our history together. My Grandma.

Even if I could beg God to bring you back this time I wouldn't. I am jealous of your new eyes. Your new arms that have held our Savior. I can hear you giggle together as you walk.

Jordan and I sang a song in church a few weeks before your beginning and I sing it now for you because your SOON is NOW.

I celebrate your life Wanda Evelyn Voth, you have given me breath, you have given me faith. You taught me what strong means by your wrestle with life.

And now, you are free.

Too Much

I cringe at the expectations placed before me.
I frown at the daily reminder of who I am now.
I beat myself up looking back over this year and reminding myself of my failures.

People say that "God will not give us more that we can bear."  They say it's in the Bible and I ask them where? The correct verse is-
1 Corinthians 10:13
No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.

He will not TEMPT us beyond what we can bear. But give? I look over the last year of my life and I know with certainty that God gave me much more than I could ever bear.
I look at the life of friends and their struggles. I hear stories of people being persecuted and killed in the name of Jesus. Not given more than they can bear? A cheating spouse, a broken heart, a cruel disease, the death of a child.

God is faithful. God is good.

So what do I believe then? I believe that God is God and He is to be praised. I believe that God reaches down and gives unexplainable comfort and release.

God carries my burdens. HE bears them. Not me.

And because of that I can rejoice in this burden placed on me. I can rejoice that those who look on my life or hear my story will be pointed to God and His incredibly mercy. For it's all about HIM. Not little me. He is the reason I can still smile, the reason I have joy, release and giggle uncontrollably at times.

My prayer for you reading this is that you place your burden that you cannot bear upon His large shoulders and watch what He does with it.

 HOPE

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

-Emily Dickinson

Joy Found Me

The day never paused. There was no stopping it. I spun and I grasped and I begged to sit.

Where is my rest God?

It started early. The night before I lay awake thinking of all that would take place, not very huge and important things, but things that inter lapped and intertwined.

I named the day Stress.

I awoke and I groaned and I forgot to say good morning Lord. I went to work and I didn't spin with the Toddler or laugh until my sides hurt but I rushed. I rushed through breakfast. I rushed to the office with a little hand and little toys. Mojo's house.

I sat and then I stood. I walked then sat. I typed and talked on the phone and I stood and I rushed.

I ate in a hurry for there was a nap for him and work for me.

Youth group started before I was done work so I ran from the house when I could and jumped in the car. I drove to the meet place and I jumped from the car and into the van. And we drove. And I stressed and I groaned about not having any 'me' time. Drive through food. Calgary traffic. Roller rink.

I forgot my socks and had to borrow. I slipped on the blades and I skated real slow with two beginners at first, then alone.

I skated around and around and then it happened. I caught my breath and I smiled, then I giggled.

Joy found me.

Out on the roller rink with "Grease Lightning!" playing and bodies pushed in all around me so close.

Joy found me.

My husband skated by with a wink and I smiled. I truly smiled, all the way down to my heart.

Unexplainable. Totally weird. Joy.

That's my God. He takes a day never ending and touches my heart. Joy is not found anywhere else. Joy is only God. Happiness lasts for a moment but Joy is never ending. It is searching, always looking for His children to lavish on. There is no explanation. No reason. Just joy. Nothing about my day had changed. I was still frazzled. Still stressed. still tired. But out on that stinky, twirling floor with the bright lights and the deafening music, Joy found me.

Where has unexplainable Joy found you?

Legacy

"By your grace and promise, we refuse to let the enemy have any

of our beloved children."

I am reading my Grandmothers journal this morning. As the sun peers through my living room window, I trace a finger over the words I read and remember her touch, her smile. I remember her contagious laugh, the way she rocked back and forth in the rocking chair in our home. I can feel her hand on my forehead as she recited the blessing before I fell asleep all those nights.

"The Lord bless thee and keep thee:

The Lord make His face shine upon thee, 

and be gracious unto thee:

The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee

and give thee peace."

-Numbers 6:24-26

Tears come as I long to hear her high soprano voice filling whatever room she was singing in. I fell asleep for five years to the sound of her long graceful fingers dancing with her keyboard. I can't listen to a hymn today without hearing her voice.

She was a mother, a wife, a friend, a beloved daughter of the King, a writer, would rather clean than cook, a grandmother and a fighter. She fought for life and the pages of this journal I hold tell of her struggle and hope.

The greatest compliment I ever receive is "You remind me of your Grandma Callaway." My hero.

I have prolonged writing this post because I don't believe any words I write will ever do her justice. I know a grandchild thinks the world of their grandparents and is blind to their faults, but I cannot help knowing what I saw.

I saw a saint. I saw a warrior. I saw Christ.

My thoughts wander back to that last week of her life. She couldn't speak. Her lips were crusty. Her skin dry. She had stopped eating and drinking.
Nurses told me that she wouldn't be able to understand me or communicate. She could only move her neck and had to be turned over by nurses every hour. I knew it would be one of the last times I would have with her. I opened the hospital room door and peeked in. She was sitting in her chair, staring blankly into space. Gone were the words from her mouth. Gone were her active limbs and the contagious laugh. She didn't belong there anymore. I walked in and sat in front of her. She shifted her focus and smiled. She always smiled when she saw me, saw any of her children. I smiled back and knew that they were wrong, she could understand me. She was simply giving up, longing for her true home. This tower of faith who had struggled with depression her entire life was ready to hear the words 'Well done."
The tears came, she was so weak, so ready for heaven.
I was not ready to let her go.
I clung to her body and let the tears fall as she willed me to let go.

As I sat there by her wheelchair, grieving, this frail lady rested her head upon mine and as I looked up I saw tears falling down her immovable face and opening up her mouth a crack she whispered "Praise God from whom all blessings flow..." but that was as far as she was able to go.  
So with a trembling voice I sang the rest of the song as she hummed along, both of us allowing tears to continue there path.

She had never been more beautiful to me.

She was pointing me to the One who I would need to turn to every moment of my life. The One who opened his arms to her five days later, as I lay beside her on a hospital cot, fast asleep.

And today, as I read her words written with a passion so deep and alive for her children, willing that all would turn to Jesus, I praise God for my Grandma.

A New Journey

I closed the book and let out a sigh. How does one finish a book like this? I haven't finished it, it will be picked up again and again.

"One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp. Thanks to my beautiful friend Kristen I stated a journey with this lady and her thankfulness a few months ago with her daily blog and now her book. Wow! If only I could write like her, could pen words like she does. She goes on a journey of thankfulness to find beauty and Christ in her daily life, and she does.


I close the book and I think of the walk I took that morning. The morning was crisp and the coat was zipped tight. My Marmee was by my side and I was pushing an empty stroller. The toddler was running ahead of me grasping a blue leash tight in his small fist. He was giggling. The 13 year old puppy was taking the 2 year old boy for a walk. We laughed as he looked back, pure joy streaming his face. Another squeal escaped and he was pulled along into the grass.


I close the book and I wait for the toddler to wake. We pull coats on again and open the door. I want to look, truly look for the blessings. An old man, stooped and bent, whistles loud and clear ahead of us as he walks. My hurried steps slow down to his pace, not wanting to miss. His melody is the same four notes, he whistles, looking left and right, up and down, taking in the world. Two boys in blue run across the road, one somersaults to the grass and the whistler pauses, looking at them. I see a grin on his wrinkled face and wonder what he is thinking, remembering. We pass a retirement home where the whistler stops his walk. As I walk by I see a man sitting in his chair with a cigarette, in goes the smoke, out comes the cough. I smile at him, wishing I could sit in the sister chair and talk away the afternoon. His story, his regrets, his love.

I think back to my week, three wonderful visits from friends in my little house in the prairie. Tea and talk, prayers and laughs.
I think of visits with my godson and his mother, my Jordan Ann, nothing is so humbling as knowing a girl since twirling dresses and paper dolls, and still have her love.
My husband, jumping out of bed every morning before me, sometimes making the bed over me to wake me. The joy and laughs he gives me each day, forgiveness. The times I've teased him and seen his mock scowl.
A journal sitting at home, with the start of my thank you scribbles.

I think of the two verses that God gave me this day-
"The LORD will fight for you, you need only to be still." Exodus 14:14
"...arise my darling, my beautiful one, come with me. See! The winter is past, the rains are over and gone." song of Solomon 2:10-11

They weren't verses I stumbled upon while reading the Bible, though that happens daily. They were verses GIVEN to me, spoken in the silence of my heart when I called out to Him. Words memorized years ago. And I am reminded to keep these words of the Bible hidden in my heart, pressed upon my soul, to memorize, to quote, God is near when I so desperately need Him.

The blessings have been there all the time, the whistler would have whistled, the somersaulter would have bounced back up, the verses would have stayed in the pages instead of my heart. But I looked, I sought, and I found.

I am being romanced by my Savior in this journey of thankfulness.

Later that night the rain falls on my upturned face

I say Thank You.

Beauty In The Ugly

I am starting a "Thanks Journal" today. Fitting don't you think? Good Friday, when my Lord stretched out His arms and breathed His last as a human man.
I am sitting on my bed drinking tea and listening to the sounds of my Husband with two boys from our youth group playing pictionary. One boy just yelled "JUSTIN BIEBER!" Then said "I can't believe I just said Justin Bieber."
Moments. My husbands deep laugh. The boys quiet giggles. Moments.

Children can't help but play outside today and I turn to the page in my journal that says "Things I have learned from children."
-Laugh until your sides hurt, then laugh some more.
-When a window is fogged up it is for painting pictures on with your finger tips.
- A dry tea bag smells so good, it needs to be passed around.
- When something needs to be said, say it!

Adults are roaming the sidewalks outside glancing at the small piles of snow that the sun graciously left behind. I think back to my grade 2 Teacher instructing us to kick the remaining snow on the sidewalks so that it melts faster. I kick snow every Spring.

I love these days of snow and sun, learning and failing, youth and games, tears and smiles.

These days of learning to be thankful.

Beauty in the Ugly.
Beauty in loving a man who drives me insane. Beauty in failing as a wife. Beauty in talking to aliens called teenagers who scare me to death. Beauty in teaching and loving these aliens. Beauty in tears. Beauty in seeing poverty. Beauty for friends in pain. Beauty for friends that succeed when I don't.
Beauty in an ugly, broken world and praising God for it.

Because that's exactly what He does isn't it? God finds every moment beautiful. He looks on this world and He weeps for His children, and He finds beauty.

He is thankful. Father God I am so sorry for the times I refuse thanks, refuse to look for the beauty. Please help me.

My Reflection

I never thought I would marry Prince Charming. I hoped upon hope that I would marry Mr. Darcy, but read the end of the book. Elizabeth stole him.

Who puts that dream of Prince Charming into a young girls mind? Who rips it away from her when she starts to grow and change? When her body isn't little and cute anymore and she has no idea what to do with the changes, the awkwardness happening?

Who is it that whispers into her ear "You will never be good enough for him." And why does she listen?

Then she grows up and into her body and is used to the new her, boys start to notice and little by little, her dream is replaced by flattery. By freckled faced boys who convince her that they are enough. And her Prince Charming reaches out His hand, unclasped.

It amazes me that I didn't give into them. That I was the one to write in my journal as a girl- Please Lord, help me to stay single till you are first in my life.
I probably added in my head, and make it quick OK?

I picture God chuckling and promising me that He would, but that it would be longer than I hoped it would be.
And He kept that promise. And I kept my promise, looking to Him and checking in every now and then to see if now was the time. Then when it was the time I went kicking and screaming, but I would have it no other way, it was His perfect timing.

I think of this when my husband whispers "You are beautiful" in my ear and I lift an eyebrow as if to say "I don't believe you, I've been told something different."
I think of this when I catch him looking at me, when I ask him why, he says it's because I'm his and he can't believe it.
I think of this when I still see that mischievous look in his eye before he scoops me up.

Love is terrifying and I am so new at it. I have known love for less than two years.
So when God was chuckling, He knew if He had given me the love of a man when I asked that I would not be ready. I would not be close to ready.

Because love is raw. Love is coarse. Love is absurd. Love is unforgettable.

Love is God.

And God has given me the love of a man. What we have is a reflection of God's love, a beautiful reflection but a reflection non the less. All we have to do is look up to see the real love story happening.

I went kicking and screaming into love, but because of Jordan's patience and heart, it didn't take me long to willingly embrace all that it was.

I think of this when I look back at God shaping and molding a little girl after His own heart.
I think of this when I remember how He held me when I was ready to throw it all away and He whispered "I love you, I love you, I love you." As sobs rocked my body.
I think of this when I shamefully remember all I have done against Him, and yet He calls me His beloved daughter.

This is love.