Just a Taste
This morning as I woke up to the sounds of my children playing laughing and crawling around, I heard a familiar laugh on my side of the bed. Pk-bo! Zae was trying her best to say peek a boo and laughing so hard at herself. It was great, the sun was bright and it was another morning wondering how to wake up peacefully. As I walked out the door with the little playful girl in my arms the familiar smell of strong coffee was in the air.
It took a long time for me to notice through the brightly lit windows that snow had fallen all the night before. I had cheerfully already left messages on a friends answering machine about a lunch potluck today, only to have her return the call to ask if i had looked out the window. Travelling on the roads was not a good idea. Another lunch date was made and we sought out plans to stay home and hibernate. As the months have gone on we have seen only peeks of sun and warm strolls during these days are enjoyed and longed for.
It did not take long to rest in the cabin fever as I tried to cheer up my anxious boys with some home baked bread. For a marvelous taste of Peanut Butter Banana Bread please try this recipe:
http://www.banana-bread.biz/peanut-butter-banana-bread/
Its a great treat after a snowman is built and snow balls thrown ice is stomped on and cold children are looking for hot chocolate. And for their parents who are warmed through and through that today even though we were hibernating was a bright day!
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Thoughts and Allegations
The phone call lasted nearly an hour and I thought; Wow, can we not talk like this when we are face to face, why now? The supper was needing to be made and baby needed a diaper change. Boys were home from school and they needed after school snacks and the odd job that was left till now was still lingering.
I will talk sure I will talk but I will guard my words, so that they are not judged harshly, or that my words are not a vending competition in future conversations.
Conversation words are only words and yet they have so much importance in our very being. We can look at so many different languages and know that in each and every one that the main goal is communication.
I do not know how to communicate as a tool for everyday life I know how to communicate for survival. Body language is another form of communication that can be read and misunderstood so many times in one day.
Hubby is home now the supper is wafting to the doorway and his hands are cold as he reaches for a hug. But I am typing and I am enjoying typing so taking a quick loving second he reaches around my middle for a warm snuggle and then he just carries on with other after work tasks until supper will be served.
The sounds from everyone in our house are coming in waves now almost like colours sometimes silence can be deafening though. When I hear sounds I try to pick out my favorite and concentrate on them, piano , laughter, wind are all sounds I enjoy.
Giggling, yelling, stomping, play fighting, and yes crying & screaming from the sounds of fighting are common amongst little children especially brothers or even babies when they are inconsolable. Sometimes when I long for silence I fear that I like quiet so much because of the noise that was a constant in my home growing up. We would hear yelling, screams of help, bottles smashing, doors slamming, t.v. blaring, and of course children were to not be heard or seen unless they were being beckoned for chores or meals.
Bedtime was deliberate, no hugs, no stories, if we were not quick enough we could not even change into p.j.s. Rarely were there bath times and once or twice a month was common. In the morning when it was time to wake up if we did not respond to our name in an instant we could be forced to do chores outside, until breakfast.
I remember piling wood in the middle of winter in my p.j s and mittens, hating life and looking forward to escaping away for a full day of school.
Wow did I love school, it is fun to see the boys and their different outlooks on school days. One even likes math and spelling a lot. I loved math and spelling, so much I looked forward to math competitions and spelling bees. So fun. Another loves gym, running and competing. Again this was something I looked forward to too. And yet another likes the drawing and creating that he does in some parts of the day, as well as the music. I know that comes from my husbands love of the arts.
Supper is ready.
Baby is needing a bottle or something to eat as well she is cranky from a short nap and fun playtime is not an option.
Everyone is getting ready for the children's bedtime.
I am pondering what to do after hours, go to work or keep writing, maybe relax with something mindless and not thought provoking or now keep writing after a glass of wine has been poured.
Mentally I am still recovering from a loss of a friend and a long trip to a far off town which has left me hoping for rest and solitude as well as rest for the all of the family. We really had a very peaceful drive to and from our destination but the events have left us all feeling like a battery that needs to be recharged. At night when I dream it is blackness and yet it is still dreaming, I seem to be trying to make up my own dreams and yet hoping that someone else does the portrait for me.
I was thinking as I often do playing on the floor with baby when one of my sons came to me broken hearted. He had tried to wash his portrait of him and his daddy with water and unbeknown st to him had not realized that indeed he had washed it clear away. The picture lay in his hands displaying all that was left, which was, smudges of colours that were once there.
We managed to find another picture of him with his daddy and framed it so that when it got dirty he could just wash the glass off. He is always wanting to be clean; clean hands, clean face, clean clothes. Hopefully it is not a paranoia.
I am paranoid of bats flying anywhere 100 miles near our home let alone the thought that they may be in this town. There must be a home near ours because at night if I am taking the garbage out I hear a swish of wings, they have to be wings, and a squeak, Ahhhhh, yes a shriek lets out of my throat as I trip over nothing in the snow and come in mad and cold and wet but safe from the predators.
What could possibly be worst than the paranoia of predators of any kind, we would write a whole report together on the many versions of predators so lets change the subject.
Mm mm chocolate and coffee. Can you love some things too much, probably? Endangered species chocolate and fair trade coffee, wonderful objects of pleasure.
Moments of other pleasures have been when the sun hits the ocean in the morning right after sunrise, and there is a blanket over my shoulders or oars in hand as we glide over the water. Climbing a mountain in the wee hours of the day just to get to the peak before sunrise and see all those colours. Walking in forest paths and smelling moss as it wafts to your nose. Seeking out treasures in old forests where the trees have seen so many years go by. Finding waterfalls that have caves inside of them and paths beside them to explore. Going skinny dipping, searching for seashells in the sand, these are all events that I miss dearly.
Thoughts and allegations this post was called but really it is a stream of consciousness, meant to let you in on my mind and how it can stream in an hour of writing.
Let me know what you think.*
The phone call lasted nearly an hour and I thought; Wow, can we not talk like this when we are face to face, why now? The supper was needing to be made and baby needed a diaper change. Boys were home from school and they needed after school snacks and the odd job that was left till now was still lingering.
I will talk sure I will talk but I will guard my words, so that they are not judged harshly, or that my words are not a vending competition in future conversations.
Conversation words are only words and yet they have so much importance in our very being. We can look at so many different languages and know that in each and every one that the main goal is communication.
I do not know how to communicate as a tool for everyday life I know how to communicate for survival. Body language is another form of communication that can be read and misunderstood so many times in one day.
Hubby is home now the supper is wafting to the doorway and his hands are cold as he reaches for a hug. But I am typing and I am enjoying typing so taking a quick loving second he reaches around my middle for a warm snuggle and then he just carries on with other after work tasks until supper will be served.
The sounds from everyone in our house are coming in waves now almost like colours sometimes silence can be deafening though. When I hear sounds I try to pick out my favorite and concentrate on them, piano , laughter, wind are all sounds I enjoy.
Giggling, yelling, stomping, play fighting, and yes crying & screaming from the sounds of fighting are common amongst little children especially brothers or even babies when they are inconsolable. Sometimes when I long for silence I fear that I like quiet so much because of the noise that was a constant in my home growing up. We would hear yelling, screams of help, bottles smashing, doors slamming, t.v. blaring, and of course children were to not be heard or seen unless they were being beckoned for chores or meals.
Bedtime was deliberate, no hugs, no stories, if we were not quick enough we could not even change into p.j.s. Rarely were there bath times and once or twice a month was common. In the morning when it was time to wake up if we did not respond to our name in an instant we could be forced to do chores outside, until breakfast.
I remember piling wood in the middle of winter in my p.j s and mittens, hating life and looking forward to escaping away for a full day of school.
Wow did I love school, it is fun to see the boys and their different outlooks on school days. One even likes math and spelling a lot. I loved math and spelling, so much I looked forward to math competitions and spelling bees. So fun. Another loves gym, running and competing. Again this was something I looked forward to too. And yet another likes the drawing and creating that he does in some parts of the day, as well as the music. I know that comes from my husbands love of the arts.
Supper is ready.
Baby is needing a bottle or something to eat as well she is cranky from a short nap and fun playtime is not an option.
Everyone is getting ready for the children's bedtime.
I am pondering what to do after hours, go to work or keep writing, maybe relax with something mindless and not thought provoking or now keep writing after a glass of wine has been poured.
Mentally I am still recovering from a loss of a friend and a long trip to a far off town which has left me hoping for rest and solitude as well as rest for the all of the family. We really had a very peaceful drive to and from our destination but the events have left us all feeling like a battery that needs to be recharged. At night when I dream it is blackness and yet it is still dreaming, I seem to be trying to make up my own dreams and yet hoping that someone else does the portrait for me.
I was thinking as I often do playing on the floor with baby when one of my sons came to me broken hearted. He had tried to wash his portrait of him and his daddy with water and unbeknown st to him had not realized that indeed he had washed it clear away. The picture lay in his hands displaying all that was left, which was, smudges of colours that were once there.
We managed to find another picture of him with his daddy and framed it so that when it got dirty he could just wash the glass off. He is always wanting to be clean; clean hands, clean face, clean clothes. Hopefully it is not a paranoia.
I am paranoid of bats flying anywhere 100 miles near our home let alone the thought that they may be in this town. There must be a home near ours because at night if I am taking the garbage out I hear a swish of wings, they have to be wings, and a squeak, Ahhhhh, yes a shriek lets out of my throat as I trip over nothing in the snow and come in mad and cold and wet but safe from the predators.
What could possibly be worst than the paranoia of predators of any kind, we would write a whole report together on the many versions of predators so lets change the subject.
Mm mm chocolate and coffee. Can you love some things too much, probably? Endangered species chocolate and fair trade coffee, wonderful objects of pleasure.
Moments of other pleasures have been when the sun hits the ocean in the morning right after sunrise, and there is a blanket over my shoulders or oars in hand as we glide over the water. Climbing a mountain in the wee hours of the day just to get to the peak before sunrise and see all those colours. Walking in forest paths and smelling moss as it wafts to your nose. Seeking out treasures in old forests where the trees have seen so many years go by. Finding waterfalls that have caves inside of them and paths beside them to explore. Going skinny dipping, searching for seashells in the sand, these are all events that I miss dearly.
Thoughts and allegations this post was called but really it is a stream of consciousness, meant to let you in on my mind and how it can stream in an hour of writing.
Let me know what you think.*
Monday, December 22, 2008
Heartache
Sunday evening we got tragic news that our little sister Ashleigh had died in a 2 car collision.
We will be celebrating her life this Saturday, December 27 at 1pm in Quesnel, with many loving members of her family and friends.
In the midst of the traditional Christmas festivities let us all remember that there are so many on the roads travelling to see loved ones or home and as they go reach out prayers of safety and hope.
May you and yours be surrounded by the love that Jesus pours into our lives so richly.
See you in the New Year!
In Remembrance.
Ashleigh Jordynne Smith
Quesnel Cariboo Observer Quesnel, BC
It was always all about Ashleigh Jordynne Smith.
Born a Princess July 25, 1991 and became an Angel December 21, 2008.
Ashleigh will be lovingly remembered by her parents Greg and Maria Dawson;
sisters, Kassie, Shelby and Mya; father, Jason Smith, Tam and Colt,
grandparents: Harold and Anne Bullock; Mike and Shirley Smith;
Jack and Martha Dawson; her Godparents and numerous aunts, uncles,
cousins and hundreds more family members and cherished friends.
Ashleigh was predeceased by her grandparents, Ken and Gladys Monk.
Ashleigh lived a very dynamic life in her 17 years, touching all she met
with her friendly smile, spunky attitude and her compulsion to push
the boundaries, way outside the box.
She was fortunate enough to travel to Italy, see the Queen, and meet
many musical celebrities.
She lived her life to the fullest with lots of enthusiasm and passion.
She truly believed that:
“Life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets...
Nobody said it would be easy.
They just promised it would be worth it.”
Ashleigh was interred in the Tranquility Gardens on December 27.
We celebrated her life at the Northstar Baptist Church
with Minister Norm Botterill officiating.
We shared stories, laughs, songs, balloons and fireworks followed
by a reception fit for a princess. It truly was done in Ashleigh style.
Ashleigh’s family would like to thank you for your love and support at this time.
Donations in Ashleigh’s memory may be made to: Ashleigh Smith Trust Fund at the CIBC,
The Yellow Ribbon Society-Integris Credit Union, the SPCA-Quesnel Branch or the Samaritan’s Purse-Operation Christmas Child.
Her Celebration was amazing. Thank you for prayers.
Sunday evening we got tragic news that our little sister Ashleigh had died in a 2 car collision.
We will be celebrating her life this Saturday, December 27 at 1pm in Quesnel, with many loving members of her family and friends.
In the midst of the traditional Christmas festivities let us all remember that there are so many on the roads travelling to see loved ones or home and as they go reach out prayers of safety and hope.
May you and yours be surrounded by the love that Jesus pours into our lives so richly.
See you in the New Year!
In Remembrance.
Ashleigh Jordynne Smith
Quesnel Cariboo Observer Quesnel, BC
It was always all about Ashleigh Jordynne Smith.
Born a Princess July 25, 1991 and became an Angel December 21, 2008.
Ashleigh will be lovingly remembered by her parents Greg and Maria Dawson;
sisters, Kassie, Shelby and Mya; father, Jason Smith, Tam and Colt,
grandparents: Harold and Anne Bullock; Mike and Shirley Smith;
Jack and Martha Dawson; her Godparents and numerous aunts, uncles,
cousins and hundreds more family members and cherished friends.
Ashleigh was predeceased by her grandparents, Ken and Gladys Monk.
Ashleigh lived a very dynamic life in her 17 years, touching all she met
with her friendly smile, spunky attitude and her compulsion to push
the boundaries, way outside the box.
She was fortunate enough to travel to Italy, see the Queen, and meet
many musical celebrities.
She lived her life to the fullest with lots of enthusiasm and passion.
She truly believed that:
“Life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets...
Nobody said it would be easy.
They just promised it would be worth it.”
Ashleigh was interred in the Tranquility Gardens on December 27.
We celebrated her life at the Northstar Baptist Church
with Minister Norm Botterill officiating.
We shared stories, laughs, songs, balloons and fireworks followed
by a reception fit for a princess. It truly was done in Ashleigh style.
Ashleigh’s family would like to thank you for your love and support at this time.
Donations in Ashleigh’s memory may be made to: Ashleigh Smith Trust Fund at the CIBC,
The Yellow Ribbon Society-Integris Credit Union, the SPCA-Quesnel Branch or the Samaritan’s Purse-Operation Christmas Child.
Her Celebration was amazing. Thank you for prayers.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
7 things that are Quirky about moi
1. I make words up, like smurples for spaghetti.
2. I cry on the beginning of every Extreme Home Makeover Show.
3. I laugh everytime I hear the words fat ass together.
4. When I am in a store and there are 4 objects on a shelf, and one is needed,
I "stock up" with 2 so there is an even number left.
5. The chorus of the song "I will remember You" from the artist
Sarah Mclaughlin is still running through my head after 4 years.
6. My baby toe always needs to pop so that it can grow stronger,
while my jaw always needs to pop so that it can grow weaker.
7. When my hair is found all over the place my kids
will pick it up and put it back on my head.
1. I make words up, like smurples for spaghetti.
2. I cry on the beginning of every Extreme Home Makeover Show.
3. I laugh everytime I hear the words fat ass together.
4. When I am in a store and there are 4 objects on a shelf, and one is needed,
I "stock up" with 2 so there is an even number left.
5. The chorus of the song "I will remember You" from the artist
Sarah Mclaughlin is still running through my head after 4 years.
6. My baby toe always needs to pop so that it can grow stronger,
while my jaw always needs to pop so that it can grow weaker.
7. When my hair is found all over the place my kids
will pick it up and put it back on my head.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
In the Quiet of the night
Apparently when you can get up easily at the sound of a creak in the floor, your mind has begun to take a paranoid approach to life.
In the middle of the night when I thought everyone was sleeping something was nudging me awake.
It wasn't the sound of a baby whimper, or putter patter of little boys tiptoeing to the potty.
It wasn't our friend who lives with us trying to be ever so quiet leaving for work or school.
I lay in bed trying to decide if it was important enough to get up when I started to tremble.
I felt no fear nothing at all actually.
A bit numb from being awake at an odd hour for no real reason.
Then the trembling started at my head and worked itself ever so slowly down to my toes.
After what seemed to be hours laying there waiting, I decided to sit up.
That is when I discovered how cold it really was that night.
So cold you could see your breath.
Or at least imagine it because my imagination had gone so wild by then.
Shivering and chattering and tip toeing to the only heat register in the house,
I stubbed my toe, tripped on the cat and bumped into the new dining set
that towers in front of the register.
So being so chaotic in my attempts to stay quiet, I silently shrieked,
jumped and ran back to our room that we share with the baby.
Jumping into bed to violently warm up.
In the "quiet of the night" a baby in our room needed to be comforted too.
Apparently when you can get up easily at the sound of a creak in the floor, your mind has begun to take a paranoid approach to life.
In the middle of the night when I thought everyone was sleeping something was nudging me awake.
It wasn't the sound of a baby whimper, or putter patter of little boys tiptoeing to the potty.
It wasn't our friend who lives with us trying to be ever so quiet leaving for work or school.
I lay in bed trying to decide if it was important enough to get up when I started to tremble.
I felt no fear nothing at all actually.
A bit numb from being awake at an odd hour for no real reason.
Then the trembling started at my head and worked itself ever so slowly down to my toes.
After what seemed to be hours laying there waiting, I decided to sit up.
That is when I discovered how cold it really was that night.
So cold you could see your breath.
Or at least imagine it because my imagination had gone so wild by then.
Shivering and chattering and tip toeing to the only heat register in the house,
I stubbed my toe, tripped on the cat and bumped into the new dining set
that towers in front of the register.
So being so chaotic in my attempts to stay quiet, I silently shrieked,
jumped and ran back to our room that we share with the baby.
Jumping into bed to violently warm up.
In the "quiet of the night" a baby in our room needed to be comforted too.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
47
One of my favorite numbers that I see all the time is 47.
...3
Cannot stand the number 3.
I want to live to be 47 but I never want to remember being 3.
Watching my sons as they have been this age is amazing. They have become who they are and developed a unique personality during the time that they were this age and I hope that as they grow older they will remember how wonderful it was to be 3.
Our youngest son will be 4 next month and the best words that I heard in my life were all in the same day;
"I will always love you even if I am not 3 anymore mommy." Kai
"Can I give you 3 hugs tonight mom?" Ethan
"I have always loved you mom, I love you I love you I love you" Asher
"DaDaDa" Azaelea
Thursday, June 12, 2008
If Only
I could speak clearly the word pictures that are thought in my head everyday.
The most peaceful times are when those around me are enjoying conversation
and I can just be a listener.
I saw something so tangible in a store this week. It made dreams come alive in my head.
Of gardens, and tea parties, of Delicious feasts of all that we enjoy.
SO I brought it home and welcomed it home. But there was no real place for it.
Then I saw gardens and herbs, lavender fields and organic food with wine being served. My answer was to create a space, plant a space in my home for it. Plant a new atmosphere that my imagination has added a whole new outlook to.
First there needed to be some clearing away of all the clutter that had accumulated.
Its all gone....now for a fresh start.
Is it impossible to live without fully living right here in the place that we call home.
Because to know that it is possible to find people in our lives that want to live fully, and celebrating with me, makes my heart soar.
I can ask out loud or just keep heading in the right direction believing that it will be created.
My children need to be surrounded by their family but they also need to learn how important rich relationships are and how they grow with us like a vine.
I want to create these word pictures for them so they can sit with me and create their own.
Children and Art as an equation is gorgeous.
So sit with me as I try to paint a hopeful picture of what is to come.
Children's paintings on richly coloured walls. With wood and stone and a herb garden creating atmosphere. minimal furniture and intimate gatherings of friends as we enjoy the company and delicious sharing of what we bring to the table.
I could speak clearly the word pictures that are thought in my head everyday.
The most peaceful times are when those around me are enjoying conversation
and I can just be a listener.
I saw something so tangible in a store this week. It made dreams come alive in my head.
Of gardens, and tea parties, of Delicious feasts of all that we enjoy.
SO I brought it home and welcomed it home. But there was no real place for it.
Then I saw gardens and herbs, lavender fields and organic food with wine being served. My answer was to create a space, plant a space in my home for it. Plant a new atmosphere that my imagination has added a whole new outlook to.
First there needed to be some clearing away of all the clutter that had accumulated.
Its all gone....now for a fresh start.
Is it impossible to live without fully living right here in the place that we call home.
Because to know that it is possible to find people in our lives that want to live fully, and celebrating with me, makes my heart soar.
I can ask out loud or just keep heading in the right direction believing that it will be created.
My children need to be surrounded by their family but they also need to learn how important rich relationships are and how they grow with us like a vine.
I want to create these word pictures for them so they can sit with me and create their own.
Children and Art as an equation is gorgeous.
So sit with me as I try to paint a hopeful picture of what is to come.
Children's paintings on richly coloured walls. With wood and stone and a herb garden creating atmosphere. minimal furniture and intimate gatherings of friends as we enjoy the company and delicious sharing of what we bring to the table.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Promise
June 14 is our Anniversary so this promise is written years ago.
A promise that I have tried so hard to own. To believe. To promise to myself.
My son was baptized today, I listened as he believed what he was going to do was a step of faith.
I watched as he owned his step of faith. My heart soared.
And then when I read this writing now, that was written so long ago
there is a step of faith that I was taking then that I never knew and yet I believed....
Strings of Thread
Attached to every limb
Just another face in the crowd
Many faces to hide the pain
The tears wash away all traces of joy
Lost feelings welling up inside
Turn to what was once yours
One look
Reflections of yesteryear's
Masked are those memories
Hidden now with effort & with dust
But to open the chest & free the sorrow
What wonder would lie ahead
Among the wild flowers
Love chased down
Captured in a moments glance
Grasp hold my love I want to be with you
Through whatever it takes
Your eyes sparkle with all the life
As the music awaits my craving ears
One kiss encircled I know forever
One Love
my Husband
You.
11 Years plus and counting......
June 14 is our Anniversary so this promise is written years ago.
A promise that I have tried so hard to own. To believe. To promise to myself.
My son was baptized today, I listened as he believed what he was going to do was a step of faith.
I watched as he owned his step of faith. My heart soared.
And then when I read this writing now, that was written so long ago
there is a step of faith that I was taking then that I never knew and yet I believed....
Strings of Thread
Attached to every limb
Just another face in the crowd
Many faces to hide the pain
The tears wash away all traces of joy
Lost feelings welling up inside
Turn to what was once yours
One look
Reflections of yesteryear's
Masked are those memories
Hidden now with effort & with dust
But to open the chest & free the sorrow
What wonder would lie ahead
Among the wild flowers
Love chased down
Captured in a moments glance
Grasp hold my love I want to be with you
Through whatever it takes
Your eyes sparkle with all the life
As the music awaits my craving ears
One kiss encircled I know forever
One Love
my Husband
You.
11 Years plus and counting......
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Chances are....
I will second guess this
I will make a mistake
I will be emotional
I will not finish
Believe me....
I want to share
I am inspired
I have lots of chances
I can finish
How come....
I second guess
I make mistakes
I am emotional
I choose to not finish
Because....
There is this time now where inspiration is only
fleeting and driven by emotions.
Where mistakes are the building blocks
for everyday and I am
forgiven.
And I do not want to
finish but keep going with what
I am given everyday so that
in what I choose today will be
remembered tomorrow.
I will second guess this
I will make a mistake
I will be emotional
I will not finish
Believe me....
I want to share
I am inspired
I have lots of chances
I can finish
How come....
I second guess
I make mistakes
I am emotional
I choose to not finish
Because....
There is this time now where inspiration is only
fleeting and driven by emotions.
Where mistakes are the building blocks
for everyday and I am
forgiven.
And I do not want to
finish but keep going with what
I am given everyday so that
in what I choose today will be
remembered tomorrow.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Time vs. Times
What makes me think I cannot be patient tears me apart deep down inside.
It is not that time is a friend,
but that I can learn too much all at once and then
all there is left is the time to let it all sink in.
When I was a little girl I would wish for time to go by faster,
I was afraid that if I stayed in this time, right now,
I would stay there forever.
I miss the adventures that came so naturally.
Walking down paths that led to no where.
Climbing muddy hills and finding hidden treasures buried where others played so long ago.
When I was a little older, probably 10 I wanted to run faster
have the time go slower so that all the races that I ran in would be victorious.
As the teens came and I experienced first crushes,
and aching hurts there were times I wanted to just stop time and hide away.
The teens wore on and the angst got worse and there was a time I never wanted to see time again. Oh what joy it would have been if I could just close my eyes and....
At 15 I decided to leave home, tried to come home a year later and then never returned.
So my joy now is celebrating time with my family that surround our home everyday. What did we do today? What made us happy, how about sad?
My son asked me today who is going to take care of him and his brothers and sister if mommy and daddy die. I had no answer, I had no time. He tried to suggest good couples that love our family and I just froze. Had I ever thought of that when I was a child?
Had I stopped to notice how many people cared and prayed for me so regularly.
My child has stopped and has thought of it and is grateful.
So now as time has sped up faster than I would have ever imagined, I just want to stop and hope time gives me a chance to grasp all that is happening around me.
And say I love this time Lord,
thank you*
What makes me think I cannot be patient tears me apart deep down inside.
It is not that time is a friend,
but that I can learn too much all at once and then
all there is left is the time to let it all sink in.
When I was a little girl I would wish for time to go by faster,
I was afraid that if I stayed in this time, right now,
I would stay there forever.
I miss the adventures that came so naturally.
Walking down paths that led to no where.
Climbing muddy hills and finding hidden treasures buried where others played so long ago.
When I was a little older, probably 10 I wanted to run faster
have the time go slower so that all the races that I ran in would be victorious.
As the teens came and I experienced first crushes,
and aching hurts there were times I wanted to just stop time and hide away.
The teens wore on and the angst got worse and there was a time I never wanted to see time again. Oh what joy it would have been if I could just close my eyes and....
At 15 I decided to leave home, tried to come home a year later and then never returned.
So my joy now is celebrating time with my family that surround our home everyday. What did we do today? What made us happy, how about sad?
My son asked me today who is going to take care of him and his brothers and sister if mommy and daddy die. I had no answer, I had no time. He tried to suggest good couples that love our family and I just froze. Had I ever thought of that when I was a child?
Had I stopped to notice how many people cared and prayed for me so regularly.
My child has stopped and has thought of it and is grateful.
So now as time has sped up faster than I would have ever imagined, I just want to stop and hope time gives me a chance to grasp all that is happening around me.
And say I love this time Lord,
thank you*
Thursday, April 19, 2007
I Remember Praying....
There was a time when I was newly married for probably a year and a half, and I did not know how to trust.
So after sharing one night we prayed that all walls would be broken down and we would learn to trust God.
The next week our dog broke his leg. Sad, but a simple catastrophe. We panicked. What was next?
After Christmas we decided to travel to visit relatives. High in the rocky mountains a severe snowstorm hit. Where we were located there was no way to turn around for about 100km. Trying to plow ahead, there was no visibility, and barely a road visible either. A car ahead of us had pulled over to what they must have thought was the side of the road. We saw the car at the last minute and tried to swerve around it, black ice was everywhere. Instead we turned a 180 degree angle slid to the other side of the road and hit a tree, which redirected the truck over a 160 foot cliff. As we were about to drop I can remember hearing "trust me everything will be OK. The truck landed on a train track then rolled enough off, that a train was able to fly by within about 10 minutes, without hitting us. The truck was severely damaged but the windows had popped out on impact. After the initial shock that we were still alive we crawled out to see people stumbling down the drop off to our rescue. Emergency vehicles were coming from all directions including a CNN train car that escorted us all the way to the hospital. I had a small injury on my head, that needed stitches, but they could not find our babies heartbeat that we were expecting. The hospital and RCMP staff were all very pleasant and helpful and even found us a hotel to stay the night in. The next day as we were walking to the Greyhound, Daryl's aunt, uncle and cousins drove up next to us on their way home. We were so amazed to see familiar faces!! We made the most unusual connections with family and new friends in the short time before boarding the bus.
It was not till a month later that we were informed our pregnancy had actually ended. But much to our surprise and delight a new baby had already started developing and he would be born 10 months later.
In all this trauma we felt an overwhelming peace reside in our souls. That is why we are content to wait and know that we cannot do anything with out patience and trust in God.
There was a time when I was newly married for probably a year and a half, and I did not know how to trust.
So after sharing one night we prayed that all walls would be broken down and we would learn to trust God.
The next week our dog broke his leg. Sad, but a simple catastrophe. We panicked. What was next?
After Christmas we decided to travel to visit relatives. High in the rocky mountains a severe snowstorm hit. Where we were located there was no way to turn around for about 100km. Trying to plow ahead, there was no visibility, and barely a road visible either. A car ahead of us had pulled over to what they must have thought was the side of the road. We saw the car at the last minute and tried to swerve around it, black ice was everywhere. Instead we turned a 180 degree angle slid to the other side of the road and hit a tree, which redirected the truck over a 160 foot cliff. As we were about to drop I can remember hearing "trust me everything will be OK. The truck landed on a train track then rolled enough off, that a train was able to fly by within about 10 minutes, without hitting us. The truck was severely damaged but the windows had popped out on impact. After the initial shock that we were still alive we crawled out to see people stumbling down the drop off to our rescue. Emergency vehicles were coming from all directions including a CNN train car that escorted us all the way to the hospital. I had a small injury on my head, that needed stitches, but they could not find our babies heartbeat that we were expecting. The hospital and RCMP staff were all very pleasant and helpful and even found us a hotel to stay the night in. The next day as we were walking to the Greyhound, Daryl's aunt, uncle and cousins drove up next to us on their way home. We were so amazed to see familiar faces!! We made the most unusual connections with family and new friends in the short time before boarding the bus.
It was not till a month later that we were informed our pregnancy had actually ended. But much to our surprise and delight a new baby had already started developing and he would be born 10 months later.
In all this trauma we felt an overwhelming peace reside in our souls. That is why we are content to wait and know that we cannot do anything with out patience and trust in God.
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