As many of you know, I started a project a year and a half ago with my camera. I needed practice behind the lens, and I wanted to show my friends, who struggle with being in front of the lens, that they truly are beautiful. I was surprised how many women turned me down. It made me so sad to think about how hard we are on ourselves. When I look at the amazing women I am surrounded by on a daily basis, it actually chokes me up to know that they cannot see what I see. Now, I recognize that I'm the biggest hypocrite of them all here, because I struggle to see it in myself too. My husband can tell me that I'm beautiful daily (and he does, bless his heart) but do I believe him? Not really. I can if he's a bit more intentional though.
If he tells me my hair looks great that day, or he likes the rear view of the jeans I'm wearing, or that my sweater fits me nicely, THAT I can believe. But the whole package? Why is that so hard to accept? I can tell you IN DETAIL my favorite features of each and every one of the women I photographed. Can I tell you mine? Hmmmm...maybe. Let's see;
- I like the color of my eyes.
-
OK....I've been sitting here paused now for probably 3 minutes. Good grief! My eyes??? That's it?
Anyway, I watched this link this morning and thought it was so telling. What a fantastic way to hit us all between the eyes.
http://youtu.be/XpaOjMXyJGk
Tuesday, 16 April 2013
Saturday, 13 April 2013
Celebrating Timber
Some of you are probably thinking that I'm nuts to celebrate my dog, but he truly is a reason to celebrate. He's actually a bit of a miracle.
Timber is our pure-bred German Shepherd, and today, Timber turns 4. He was only supposed to live maybe a year. If he did live longer then a year, he was never supposed to walk without a terrible limp, be able to run properly, or live a good quality life. He has conquered them all.
I'm not sure if part of our incredible love for him was born out of our desire to "love him better", or if he just suits the family so well, we can't imagine life without him. Either way, we love our family guardian.
Timber has this uncanny ability to know who needs him. If one of the boys is having a rough night of bad dreams, or had a tough day, he will sleep with whoever it is. If someone needs to wrap their arms around his thick, furry neck, he will lay there as long as they need, and then lay his head in their lap just as a bonus. If he feels any nervousness from me, he sticks pretty close. He will also do a perimeter sweep of the yard, check that everyone is safely in bed, and then once satisfied, lay across the front door. He has accepted many of my friend's children as part of his "peeps."
He'll fight with Grandma on the stairs and in the kitchen, nip at the boys, or trip them, if they are mis-behaving, harass me whenever I'm trying to leave without him, and barks at Dad every-single-time- he walks through the door. (I'm sure it's just to get a rise out of him!) He loves to lay in the chair he claimed as a puppy, which has a perfect vantage point to watch the inner workings of the home. He still lays down to eat his food, even though he now has more then enough strength to stand. He can communicate his needs for the basics of life as well as a few tricks he can pull out to surprise us. He gets upset with me if he is outside when it's time to wake up the boys, because he loves that part of the mornings. I just have to say the word, and he will run up the stairs to his buddies.
On evenings of intense Thunder and Lightning storms, Timber will go find a boy to hide him. He will go flying upstairs, or down to the living room, and find a corner of a bed, closet, or under a desk, where some kid will invariably hide him and then keep him company until it's over. Not because they are scared, but because they recognize that Timber now needs them.
To this crazy dog, I am Mom. He treats me with adoring love and respect, hates when I leave home, but also saves his shenanigans for me! The boys are like siblings to him. They fight, they play, they harass, they run, they tackle, and they love fiercely. Grandma is Grandma. She will lay down the law if needed, but prefers to love him up in the kitchen with tasty morsels, (which is against the rules, I might add!), and is always more then happy to spoil him a bit. Dad is meant to be respected, obeyed, but played with constantly, and harassed beyond belief. Timber was made for our family.
So, yes! Today we celebrate Timer! We celebrate his ability to love, protect, amuse, and bring immense joy to our family! We celebrate our family protector..... :)
Timber is our pure-bred German Shepherd, and today, Timber turns 4. He was only supposed to live maybe a year. If he did live longer then a year, he was never supposed to walk without a terrible limp, be able to run properly, or live a good quality life. He has conquered them all.
I'm not sure if part of our incredible love for him was born out of our desire to "love him better", or if he just suits the family so well, we can't imagine life without him. Either way, we love our family guardian.
Timber has this uncanny ability to know who needs him. If one of the boys is having a rough night of bad dreams, or had a tough day, he will sleep with whoever it is. If someone needs to wrap their arms around his thick, furry neck, he will lay there as long as they need, and then lay his head in their lap just as a bonus. If he feels any nervousness from me, he sticks pretty close. He will also do a perimeter sweep of the yard, check that everyone is safely in bed, and then once satisfied, lay across the front door. He has accepted many of my friend's children as part of his "peeps."
He'll fight with Grandma on the stairs and in the kitchen, nip at the boys, or trip them, if they are mis-behaving, harass me whenever I'm trying to leave without him, and barks at Dad every-single-time- he walks through the door. (I'm sure it's just to get a rise out of him!) He loves to lay in the chair he claimed as a puppy, which has a perfect vantage point to watch the inner workings of the home. He still lays down to eat his food, even though he now has more then enough strength to stand. He can communicate his needs for the basics of life as well as a few tricks he can pull out to surprise us. He gets upset with me if he is outside when it's time to wake up the boys, because he loves that part of the mornings. I just have to say the word, and he will run up the stairs to his buddies.
On evenings of intense Thunder and Lightning storms, Timber will go find a boy to hide him. He will go flying upstairs, or down to the living room, and find a corner of a bed, closet, or under a desk, where some kid will invariably hide him and then keep him company until it's over. Not because they are scared, but because they recognize that Timber now needs them.
To this crazy dog, I am Mom. He treats me with adoring love and respect, hates when I leave home, but also saves his shenanigans for me! The boys are like siblings to him. They fight, they play, they harass, they run, they tackle, and they love fiercely. Grandma is Grandma. She will lay down the law if needed, but prefers to love him up in the kitchen with tasty morsels, (which is against the rules, I might add!), and is always more then happy to spoil him a bit. Dad is meant to be respected, obeyed, but played with constantly, and harassed beyond belief. Timber was made for our family.
So, yes! Today we celebrate Timer! We celebrate his ability to love, protect, amuse, and bring immense joy to our family! We celebrate our family protector..... :)
Thursday, 11 April 2013
Putting On My Game Face.
One of my most favourite parenting lessons was learning to put on my game face. As I have said before, I'm a huge advocate for teaching my boys to have courage, and part of this comes from the term... "Game Face."
In the rush of the morning routine, I will quite often walk upstairs to wake up the boys (and yes, I shouldn't have to wake them up, and yes, they are old enough for an alarm, and yes, that should be their responsibility.....BUT, we will save that for a different debate and blog post!)and I say to myself;
"OK girl, time for your game face. Quiet time is over, smile in place, happy voice loaded and ready. It's go time."
It doesn't always end how it started, and sometimes it's starts poor and ends well, but it's all about the game face.
I recognized a need for it first during labour. I had to have a conversation with myself that went something like this;
"Pull yourself together girl! It's not about you! Put your game face on, do what you were built to do, and deal with getting this baby born!"
Did I mention I had to push for 4 hours? And that they still had to vacume him out?? And he was 9lbs7oz? Again, that's a whole different blog post!
Anyway! Other scenarios for game face now come in the form of comments like;
"Mom, can I talk to you?" or "Mom, I didn't do very well on my test." or "Mom, what does ______ (insert your own scary word!) mean?" That would be my personal favourite. Or, "Mom, I'm worried." OR when they all come bursting through the door after school.
All these scenarios force me to take a minute, switch gears, get my game face on, and even stop what I'm doing, so whomever needs me has my undivided attention. They are depending on me to set the tone for the house, conversation, dilemma, or how they need to respond to themselves emotionally. Sometimes we even make a mug of tea to help us sort through it. Most of the time they can talk their way through it themselves and come up with a solution on their own.....with a bit of guidance. It's usually a case of me just giving them the time to sort it out, without trying to fix it for them, rescue them, degrade them, or de-value how they're feeling. It's about the grace to validate, then move on to a solution. I want them, as men, husbands, and fathers, to be able to tackle a challenge, whatever it may be, with courage, determination, accountability, grace, and compassion. Full circle back to game face.
In my world, that means coming at something calmly, graciously, and with your head and heart fully engaged. My latest "Game Face" pep talk to myself has come because we are gearing up for our family's busy sports season. I NEED to be ready. I will be running 5 days a week to different sports venues, trying to feed everyone nutritiously, keep up with laundry, homework, baking, finances, emotional needs, husband needs, school council needs, AND maintain a gentle and loving attitude towards the people who come across my path. I need to be able to set the household tone properly for the next 4 months. Game face.
I have a little game face motion that I do to my boys, as they are heading onto the soccer field, running track, swimming pool, Taekwon Do ring, basketball court, or any other area of life I feel it's needed. I motion my hands over my face in a circular way. The boys know this to mean;
"Good luck! I'm praying for you! Give em' heck! I'm proud of you! And GAME FACE ON!"
Usually I get a little smile, or wave, sometimes a cheeky shake of the head, but always they know what it means. They know I've set the tone, and no matter what, we will get through it together. Whether we celebrate or re-asses.
Even though I know we are all busy, and I know we all have different areas of our worlds that drain us or try our patience, girls, we need to be ready. We need to be aware of the tone we set because these precious kids depend on it. And if we screw up? Call it for what it is, apologize, smother it in grace, and move on. And if your kid screws up? Call it for what it is, forgive, smother it in grace, and move on.
Tally Ho!
PS: By the way, if any of you happen to see me looking slightly frazzled over the next few months remember.... Circular motions inward over your face at me. I'll happily take the hint and encouragement!
In the rush of the morning routine, I will quite often walk upstairs to wake up the boys (and yes, I shouldn't have to wake them up, and yes, they are old enough for an alarm, and yes, that should be their responsibility.....BUT, we will save that for a different debate and blog post!)and I say to myself;
"OK girl, time for your game face. Quiet time is over, smile in place, happy voice loaded and ready. It's go time."
It doesn't always end how it started, and sometimes it's starts poor and ends well, but it's all about the game face.
I recognized a need for it first during labour. I had to have a conversation with myself that went something like this;
"Pull yourself together girl! It's not about you! Put your game face on, do what you were built to do, and deal with getting this baby born!"
Did I mention I had to push for 4 hours? And that they still had to vacume him out?? And he was 9lbs7oz? Again, that's a whole different blog post!
Anyway! Other scenarios for game face now come in the form of comments like;
"Mom, can I talk to you?" or "Mom, I didn't do very well on my test." or "Mom, what does ______ (insert your own scary word!) mean?" That would be my personal favourite. Or, "Mom, I'm worried." OR when they all come bursting through the door after school.
All these scenarios force me to take a minute, switch gears, get my game face on, and even stop what I'm doing, so whomever needs me has my undivided attention. They are depending on me to set the tone for the house, conversation, dilemma, or how they need to respond to themselves emotionally. Sometimes we even make a mug of tea to help us sort through it. Most of the time they can talk their way through it themselves and come up with a solution on their own.....with a bit of guidance. It's usually a case of me just giving them the time to sort it out, without trying to fix it for them, rescue them, degrade them, or de-value how they're feeling. It's about the grace to validate, then move on to a solution. I want them, as men, husbands, and fathers, to be able to tackle a challenge, whatever it may be, with courage, determination, accountability, grace, and compassion. Full circle back to game face.
In my world, that means coming at something calmly, graciously, and with your head and heart fully engaged. My latest "Game Face" pep talk to myself has come because we are gearing up for our family's busy sports season. I NEED to be ready. I will be running 5 days a week to different sports venues, trying to feed everyone nutritiously, keep up with laundry, homework, baking, finances, emotional needs, husband needs, school council needs, AND maintain a gentle and loving attitude towards the people who come across my path. I need to be able to set the household tone properly for the next 4 months. Game face.
I have a little game face motion that I do to my boys, as they are heading onto the soccer field, running track, swimming pool, Taekwon Do ring, basketball court, or any other area of life I feel it's needed. I motion my hands over my face in a circular way. The boys know this to mean;
"Good luck! I'm praying for you! Give em' heck! I'm proud of you! And GAME FACE ON!"
Usually I get a little smile, or wave, sometimes a cheeky shake of the head, but always they know what it means. They know I've set the tone, and no matter what, we will get through it together. Whether we celebrate or re-asses.
Even though I know we are all busy, and I know we all have different areas of our worlds that drain us or try our patience, girls, we need to be ready. We need to be aware of the tone we set because these precious kids depend on it. And if we screw up? Call it for what it is, apologize, smother it in grace, and move on. And if your kid screws up? Call it for what it is, forgive, smother it in grace, and move on.
Tally Ho!
PS: By the way, if any of you happen to see me looking slightly frazzled over the next few months remember.... Circular motions inward over your face at me. I'll happily take the hint and encouragement!
Thursday, 4 April 2013
Thirst
This morning my Mom and I were having a conversation over my green tea and her (extremely yummy smelling!) coffee. I was expressing to her a constant frustration of mine with a person close to me, and my Mom suggested maybe it was time to play hard ball. I probably sighed, and I know I responded with;
"I know, but it's that whole 'You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink' thing."
In my frustration, I tend to want to drag the person to the water and shove their head into it... :) BUT, that never works. So, this is where my Mom's wisdom came in. My Mom told me about something she had read earlier in the week. She said;
"Sweetie, you might not be able to make the person drink, but you can sure make them thirsty."
For me it was like a light bulb went on. It was so true. Drinking a glass of water, when you're not thirsty, is not something a person would normally do. At least not in my world! It also rarely happens when I'm all comfy cozy and curled up in bed! However, on a hot day, after mowing the lawn, or going for a fast walk, or being on the treadmill, or stacking firewood, or just plain doing something to get me sweaty and thirsty, I'm all over the water. I'm thirsty, and I want water. You don't have to force me at all. In fact, I would probably be grouchy if I was denied it! It made sense.
So, it just made me think about how many times we struggle to get someone to drink the proverbial water, when really it's not our job. They have to choose to want it, or be plain old thirsty.
It also made me think of the times God must look at me and say;
"OK Ellerie! You are going to have to get thirsty."
Whether it's to teach me a lesson, or humble my pride, or just send me a challenge.
I am thankful for the desire to drink. I am thankful for the gift of choice. I am thankful that God doesn't ram my head into the water.
Thirst. The desire to do something to change the situation.
"I know, but it's that whole 'You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink' thing."
In my frustration, I tend to want to drag the person to the water and shove their head into it... :) BUT, that never works. So, this is where my Mom's wisdom came in. My Mom told me about something she had read earlier in the week. She said;
"Sweetie, you might not be able to make the person drink, but you can sure make them thirsty."
For me it was like a light bulb went on. It was so true. Drinking a glass of water, when you're not thirsty, is not something a person would normally do. At least not in my world! It also rarely happens when I'm all comfy cozy and curled up in bed! However, on a hot day, after mowing the lawn, or going for a fast walk, or being on the treadmill, or stacking firewood, or just plain doing something to get me sweaty and thirsty, I'm all over the water. I'm thirsty, and I want water. You don't have to force me at all. In fact, I would probably be grouchy if I was denied it! It made sense.
So, it just made me think about how many times we struggle to get someone to drink the proverbial water, when really it's not our job. They have to choose to want it, or be plain old thirsty.
It also made me think of the times God must look at me and say;
"OK Ellerie! You are going to have to get thirsty."
Whether it's to teach me a lesson, or humble my pride, or just send me a challenge.
I am thankful for the desire to drink. I am thankful for the gift of choice. I am thankful that God doesn't ram my head into the water.
Thirst. The desire to do something to change the situation.
Tuesday, 26 March 2013
Giving Up Coffee, The Double Double, and Excuses
Well, I'm chubby.
Now, before y'all try to defend me here, go back and read the title. I'm giving up excuses. I realized recently that as my weight has steadily climbed in the last 7 years, I needed to figure out what I was doing differently. Now clearly the most obvious is location. I've moved. BUT...there had to be more to the puzzle, because an extra 38 pounds doesn't just randomly appear. So I started a list. Here is what I came up with.
1. In Sointula, I used to walk 3 - 5 kilometers a day. Rain or shine. Plain and simple. Here, I don't. I whine instead and find excuses. Now, I do have a few valid issues, but I have a wonderful treadmill that we bought 2 years ago that cancels them out. Like;
"It's to cold out." "I don't want to slip on the ice." "It's to hot, the dog will overheat." "The mosquitoes are bad." and "I don't like walking through town here because there is really no where to go."
Apparently I want the Boogie Man's Hill circuit, Kaleva Road, Villian's Road, or Bere Point Trail. I also want the climate of the West Coast, and a wet stinky dog again. Who knew?
2. When Jody moved to Alberta 8 months ahead of the boys and I, I started drinking coffee for the caffeine boost. I don't like coffee, so I would put International Delight Hazelnut in it to make it palatable. Up until then, I would start my day with a small glass of pure OJ, and a mug of clear green tea. However, as my body wanted more caffeine, my coffee mug got bigger, which translated into more Hazelnut. About 250 calories worth, a day. Ugh....
3. Also since we arrived here, the Double Double Steeped Tea from Tim Horton's has become my life line in running boys to late evening activities. Especially when it's -20 or colder out. I used to only get one on my drive home from Campbell River once a month. It was a comfort thing for the drive, the last stop before we hit the highway, and became a bit of a tradition. However, here, I leave the city and hit the highway home sometimes 5 nights a week. It has become my evening pick me up for the 58 kilometer drive home, sometimes at 10:00 at night. Also, I can spot a Timmies in any city from a mile away, and am switching lanes before the boys even know what's going on in the middle of the afternoon. You get the idea. I LOVE my Double Double Steeped Tea now.
4. Last but not least, my joy. I lost my joy with myself. As life changed a bit after we moved, I struggled to find my place. I struggled to fit in to a community that I didn't understand. I struggled to find room in our budget to do all that was available to us. I struggled to find a place I felt I belonged. I struggled to figure out who I was. I struggled to dress so I didn't stand out in my crazy West Coast style. I had left all that was familiar and safe behind, hoping to find happiness and contentment with myself in our new life. Once the newness wore off, and reality set in, I realized it wasn't going to happen. Our family and home has it's own culture, beliefs, traditions, and heartbeat. Far different then rural Alberta. Not better by any means, just different. It has to be different. We were raised on an Island.
So, this started the process of looking at life differently. Last week I gave up coffee cold turkey and went back to clear green tea in the AM. I have removed any sugar at all from my steeped tea and am doing fine now without it. Thank goodness for a bit of cream.. :) I have an amazing treadmill in my living room that I am now using daily to walk at least 3 kilometers. No excuses! I crank my tunes and away I go.
As for feeling content with the Ellerie God wants me to be? Well, you'll have to stay tuned for that. I am finding my place though. I have a wonderful Church family now where I feel I can sink down some roots and belong, I am back to playing the electric bass guitar a bit, I have found my love of the kitchen again making foods that my family can recognize as being made with love, I canned my heart out last summer and plan on doing even more this year. We are back to eating only homemade jam. I am slowly returning to who I was before leaving the comfort of our Island home. Hopefully, as I continue to re-learn that only God can truly fill the empty spots in my heart, and be my extra comfort and energy when needed, my body will slowly return to my God size, and my struggle with trying to fit in will shed off with the unwanted pounds.
Blessings!
Now, before y'all try to defend me here, go back and read the title. I'm giving up excuses. I realized recently that as my weight has steadily climbed in the last 7 years, I needed to figure out what I was doing differently. Now clearly the most obvious is location. I've moved. BUT...there had to be more to the puzzle, because an extra 38 pounds doesn't just randomly appear. So I started a list. Here is what I came up with.
1. In Sointula, I used to walk 3 - 5 kilometers a day. Rain or shine. Plain and simple. Here, I don't. I whine instead and find excuses. Now, I do have a few valid issues, but I have a wonderful treadmill that we bought 2 years ago that cancels them out. Like;
"It's to cold out." "I don't want to slip on the ice." "It's to hot, the dog will overheat." "The mosquitoes are bad." and "I don't like walking through town here because there is really no where to go."
Apparently I want the Boogie Man's Hill circuit, Kaleva Road, Villian's Road, or Bere Point Trail. I also want the climate of the West Coast, and a wet stinky dog again. Who knew?
2. When Jody moved to Alberta 8 months ahead of the boys and I, I started drinking coffee for the caffeine boost. I don't like coffee, so I would put International Delight Hazelnut in it to make it palatable. Up until then, I would start my day with a small glass of pure OJ, and a mug of clear green tea. However, as my body wanted more caffeine, my coffee mug got bigger, which translated into more Hazelnut. About 250 calories worth, a day. Ugh....
3. Also since we arrived here, the Double Double Steeped Tea from Tim Horton's has become my life line in running boys to late evening activities. Especially when it's -20 or colder out. I used to only get one on my drive home from Campbell River once a month. It was a comfort thing for the drive, the last stop before we hit the highway, and became a bit of a tradition. However, here, I leave the city and hit the highway home sometimes 5 nights a week. It has become my evening pick me up for the 58 kilometer drive home, sometimes at 10:00 at night. Also, I can spot a Timmies in any city from a mile away, and am switching lanes before the boys even know what's going on in the middle of the afternoon. You get the idea. I LOVE my Double Double Steeped Tea now.
4. Last but not least, my joy. I lost my joy with myself. As life changed a bit after we moved, I struggled to find my place. I struggled to fit in to a community that I didn't understand. I struggled to find room in our budget to do all that was available to us. I struggled to find a place I felt I belonged. I struggled to figure out who I was. I struggled to dress so I didn't stand out in my crazy West Coast style. I had left all that was familiar and safe behind, hoping to find happiness and contentment with myself in our new life. Once the newness wore off, and reality set in, I realized it wasn't going to happen. Our family and home has it's own culture, beliefs, traditions, and heartbeat. Far different then rural Alberta. Not better by any means, just different. It has to be different. We were raised on an Island.
So, this started the process of looking at life differently. Last week I gave up coffee cold turkey and went back to clear green tea in the AM. I have removed any sugar at all from my steeped tea and am doing fine now without it. Thank goodness for a bit of cream.. :) I have an amazing treadmill in my living room that I am now using daily to walk at least 3 kilometers. No excuses! I crank my tunes and away I go.
As for feeling content with the Ellerie God wants me to be? Well, you'll have to stay tuned for that. I am finding my place though. I have a wonderful Church family now where I feel I can sink down some roots and belong, I am back to playing the electric bass guitar a bit, I have found my love of the kitchen again making foods that my family can recognize as being made with love, I canned my heart out last summer and plan on doing even more this year. We are back to eating only homemade jam. I am slowly returning to who I was before leaving the comfort of our Island home. Hopefully, as I continue to re-learn that only God can truly fill the empty spots in my heart, and be my extra comfort and energy when needed, my body will slowly return to my God size, and my struggle with trying to fit in will shed off with the unwanted pounds.
Blessings!
Monday, 4 March 2013
Listening to The Inner Voice
On Saturday morning my youngest son, Nathan, came to me and said;
"Mom, I'm having a hard time being a good Christian and doing the right thing."
He's 9. I inwardly smiled at his choice of phrasing, then looked up at him and asked him what he was struggling with. He answered with;
"Ethan and Nolan (the middle two) are wrestling and I want to join in. I want to join in on Ethan's side, but I know that will make Nolan mad. I feel like I should stay out of it"
I understood the situation he was in because Ethan was the older of the two, I could also hear that Ethan and Nolan were having a ton of fun, and knew that Nathan would change the dynamic. So, I asked Nathan what his little inner voice was saying.
"My inner voice is telling me to stay out of it because Nolan will feel it's unfair and ganged up on, but I really want to get in there."
I replied that he should probably listen to his inner voice. He smiled at me, agreed, and went to do something else. All was happy and peaceful. Minus the ongoing wrestling match on the landing.
Saturday morning I was also getting ready for a girls day out to Edmonton for a friend's 40th birthday when I looked at the weather report. I was to be the driver. We were under a winter storm warning. Rain turning to freezing rain, then turning to snow, add in 60 kph winds and you have a recipe for hideous road conditions. My friend's husband had wanted me to take their vehicle so he could pay for the gas, but my inner voice was strongly suggesting I take my own vehicle. Jody had bought some of the best quality winter tires (Nokia Hakkapeliitta's) on the market for my van last November, and with the weather report being what it was, I wanted the comfort and safety of my own vehicle, with my Finnish Road Warriors under me. I also did a head count and realized I was responsible for returning the Mother's of 14 kids back home safely. I was to take my own van.
Due to my husband having a bit of a cold, I hadn't slept well. I was exhausted leaving the house. God knew this. The birthday girl (who is not always totally on time...sorry!) was running 13 minutes late. God also knew that was going to happen. I still needed to gas up. God knew that too. As we left the gas station I silently prayed;
"OK Father, it's You and me. Please help me to bring me and my beautiful friends home to our husbands and babies."
We hit the highway. God knew exactly what time I was going to hit the junction of Highway 21 and Highway 13. Even though the speed limit was 80 kph, my inner voice said;
"Slow it down to 60, Koskela."
I slowed down.
God knew the driver of the fully loaded semi was not going to see me with a mini van full of Mothers. My inner voice said;
"Somethings not right. Head's up Girl."
Nothing looked wrong as the driver came into the intersection, but I watched the driver and got ready to touch my breaks.
God knew the driver was going to pull out and make a left turn in front of me. I'm sure my inner voice said something at that point, but quite frankly I missed it due to some expletives going on behind and beside me... :) My tires did their job, my van handled like I knew it could, and the van stopped just as the driver realized I was there and tried to correct his mistake. Seconds. That's it. Seconds. I slowly curved around him and proceeded through the rest of the intersection with a total calm. It was odd. I silently thanked God for his protection and carried on to Edmonton.
I never thought about it again until I was home safely and my husband asked me how the drive went. I mentioned that the drive home was a bit yucky but that I felt great in the van. I thanked him again for my tires and then remembered the semi. As I finished telling him the story, he wrapped his arms around me, nuzzled his face into my hair, and thanked God for my safe return.
At that moment, I had to thank God again for that inner voice. God's prompting. We may not know why, but He does. We just need to listen and obey.
I pray my sons will continue to listen as well.
"Mom, I'm having a hard time being a good Christian and doing the right thing."
He's 9. I inwardly smiled at his choice of phrasing, then looked up at him and asked him what he was struggling with. He answered with;
"Ethan and Nolan (the middle two) are wrestling and I want to join in. I want to join in on Ethan's side, but I know that will make Nolan mad. I feel like I should stay out of it"
I understood the situation he was in because Ethan was the older of the two, I could also hear that Ethan and Nolan were having a ton of fun, and knew that Nathan would change the dynamic. So, I asked Nathan what his little inner voice was saying.
"My inner voice is telling me to stay out of it because Nolan will feel it's unfair and ganged up on, but I really want to get in there."
I replied that he should probably listen to his inner voice. He smiled at me, agreed, and went to do something else. All was happy and peaceful. Minus the ongoing wrestling match on the landing.
Saturday morning I was also getting ready for a girls day out to Edmonton for a friend's 40th birthday when I looked at the weather report. I was to be the driver. We were under a winter storm warning. Rain turning to freezing rain, then turning to snow, add in 60 kph winds and you have a recipe for hideous road conditions. My friend's husband had wanted me to take their vehicle so he could pay for the gas, but my inner voice was strongly suggesting I take my own vehicle. Jody had bought some of the best quality winter tires (Nokia Hakkapeliitta's) on the market for my van last November, and with the weather report being what it was, I wanted the comfort and safety of my own vehicle, with my Finnish Road Warriors under me. I also did a head count and realized I was responsible for returning the Mother's of 14 kids back home safely. I was to take my own van.
Due to my husband having a bit of a cold, I hadn't slept well. I was exhausted leaving the house. God knew this. The birthday girl (who is not always totally on time...sorry!) was running 13 minutes late. God also knew that was going to happen. I still needed to gas up. God knew that too. As we left the gas station I silently prayed;
"OK Father, it's You and me. Please help me to bring me and my beautiful friends home to our husbands and babies."
We hit the highway. God knew exactly what time I was going to hit the junction of Highway 21 and Highway 13. Even though the speed limit was 80 kph, my inner voice said;
"Slow it down to 60, Koskela."
I slowed down.
God knew the driver of the fully loaded semi was not going to see me with a mini van full of Mothers. My inner voice said;
"Somethings not right. Head's up Girl."
Nothing looked wrong as the driver came into the intersection, but I watched the driver and got ready to touch my breaks.
God knew the driver was going to pull out and make a left turn in front of me. I'm sure my inner voice said something at that point, but quite frankly I missed it due to some expletives going on behind and beside me... :) My tires did their job, my van handled like I knew it could, and the van stopped just as the driver realized I was there and tried to correct his mistake. Seconds. That's it. Seconds. I slowly curved around him and proceeded through the rest of the intersection with a total calm. It was odd. I silently thanked God for his protection and carried on to Edmonton.
I never thought about it again until I was home safely and my husband asked me how the drive went. I mentioned that the drive home was a bit yucky but that I felt great in the van. I thanked him again for my tires and then remembered the semi. As I finished telling him the story, he wrapped his arms around me, nuzzled his face into my hair, and thanked God for my safe return.
At that moment, I had to thank God again for that inner voice. God's prompting. We may not know why, but He does. We just need to listen and obey.
I pray my sons will continue to listen as well.
Monday, 25 February 2013
When Your Hair Needs Taming....
My hair has a mind of it's own. I'm sure of this. God knew I was going to be a low maintenance girl because he designed me, however, I'm also pretty sure God has a sense of humor, and so decided to give me unruly hair to match my personality some days. Now most days this doesn't bother me, but every once in a while I want to beat my hair into submission. Last Tuesday was one of those days. Thursday I got it cut. This got me thinking about life, attitudes, and obedience.
A little background here. When my hair grows out all crazy like, it resembles a Christmas tree. Not a nice groomed Fir Christmas tree, but the kind that my boys used to like to find when we lived in Sointula. The basic shape of a Christmas tree, but with oodles of "spunk and character" we'll call it. This is my hair.
So last Tuesday when my hair disobeyed to the point that it ended up, yet again, in braids, under a touque, I knew it was time to deal with it. Enter the hair appointment. Time to tame the beast. After 45 minutes of cutting, drying, smoothing, and straightening, my hair had submitted itself to the inevitable. It was conquered. Or so I thought.
The next day, a friend wanted to see my hair before I washed it, and so she stopped over quickly to see. She loved it and was really impressed. I then looked at her hesitantly, knowing we both had a function to be at that evening, and asked;
"Well, should I wash it and see what happens?"
She looked at me, smiled, and responded with;
"Yes! We need to know if it's the cut or the product she used."
Me; "If it's the product should we go halfers?"
Her; "I'll bring the Tupperware!"
To this we laughed, she left, and I jumped into the shower and washed away any evidence that I had a professional style my hair. When I was out and towel drying my hair I looked in the mirror and actually said out loud;
"Well, here goes nuthin'!"
And this is where it hit me. How often must God look at the unruly Ellerie and realize that some stuff in my life needs to be cut off, (like dry un-healthy hair) re-shaped, (to bring back life and vitality) smoothed, (to calm down) and molded into obedience. My hair needs maintenance and so does my life. It's not easy, and some stuff needs to be permanently cut out, but as I watched my hair dry to it's natural wavy, slightly out of control self, I realized that it looked healthy and full of life. Maybe even pretty. Could my heart be the same way?
Yes, I think so. I need to allow my heart to embrace my hair and my God designed self. Why do I try to make my hair do something it wasn't made to do? Why do I expect myself to be someone I was not designed to be? Why do I expect my hair to be thinner and straight, when God wanted it thicker and with character? God designed my hair and my personality to match. Spunky and full of life. I need to stop fighting both. However, accepting who I naturally am, and what my God given talents naturally are, and what my hair naturally wants to do, doesn't mean I'm free to be unruly. Daily care, taming, and discipline need to be regular. Time with God should be daily.
And like the hair dresser said;
"Regular maintenance is the key."
A little background here. When my hair grows out all crazy like, it resembles a Christmas tree. Not a nice groomed Fir Christmas tree, but the kind that my boys used to like to find when we lived in Sointula. The basic shape of a Christmas tree, but with oodles of "spunk and character" we'll call it. This is my hair.
So last Tuesday when my hair disobeyed to the point that it ended up, yet again, in braids, under a touque, I knew it was time to deal with it. Enter the hair appointment. Time to tame the beast. After 45 minutes of cutting, drying, smoothing, and straightening, my hair had submitted itself to the inevitable. It was conquered. Or so I thought.
The next day, a friend wanted to see my hair before I washed it, and so she stopped over quickly to see. She loved it and was really impressed. I then looked at her hesitantly, knowing we both had a function to be at that evening, and asked;
"Well, should I wash it and see what happens?"
She looked at me, smiled, and responded with;
"Yes! We need to know if it's the cut or the product she used."
Me; "If it's the product should we go halfers?"
Her; "I'll bring the Tupperware!"
To this we laughed, she left, and I jumped into the shower and washed away any evidence that I had a professional style my hair. When I was out and towel drying my hair I looked in the mirror and actually said out loud;
"Well, here goes nuthin'!"
And this is where it hit me. How often must God look at the unruly Ellerie and realize that some stuff in my life needs to be cut off, (like dry un-healthy hair) re-shaped, (to bring back life and vitality) smoothed, (to calm down) and molded into obedience. My hair needs maintenance and so does my life. It's not easy, and some stuff needs to be permanently cut out, but as I watched my hair dry to it's natural wavy, slightly out of control self, I realized that it looked healthy and full of life. Maybe even pretty. Could my heart be the same way?
Yes, I think so. I need to allow my heart to embrace my hair and my God designed self. Why do I try to make my hair do something it wasn't made to do? Why do I expect myself to be someone I was not designed to be? Why do I expect my hair to be thinner and straight, when God wanted it thicker and with character? God designed my hair and my personality to match. Spunky and full of life. I need to stop fighting both. However, accepting who I naturally am, and what my God given talents naturally are, and what my hair naturally wants to do, doesn't mean I'm free to be unruly. Daily care, taming, and discipline need to be regular. Time with God should be daily.
And like the hair dresser said;
"Regular maintenance is the key."
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