Everyone longs for a sense of belonging, that they are with people who understand them and they are adding value to this earth. But I also need a strong sense of place. If you are wondering what I mean by that, don't feel bad, so am I; Let me try and explain.
I'm acutely aware of my surroundings - not only what it looks like but what it smells like, and what if feels like. Like most human beings I'm attracted to beauty and balance and I love a home with these attributes. When I'm watching a movie I will be just as interested in the setting as I am in the plot and characters. I love the different smells in my house - cookies baking, warm summer dusty smell, coffee. I love little vignettes and attempt to set them up here and there. Yet all this will fall flat if the vibe in the house is off. Consider when you walk into a room and there is an underlying sense of tension and anxiety versus a room filled with peace.
I believe I inherited this from my mother. When Sheldon and I were moving into our first house, an Old Victorian, she wanted to see it, empty, before we moved in. She just wanted to walk through the old girl and take her all in, get her sense of place and history before we started to put our own stamp on it.
This sense of place sometimes haunts me. For nearly 20 years after the fact I would dream about the house I lived in as a teenager. I would walk through every single room, right through the basement and up the back stairs. Every inch of that house seemed to be embedded in my memory and was wont to leave. I would sit on the old water radiator in the living room and look out the window or perch on the stone step on the front porch. It was quite exasperating after a while and has only been the last 5 years or so that the house on Shuter Street is finally fading into the distance!
So this leads me to a conversation with God - one I bring up every now and then. Why, God, do you have me working in an office of cubicles with very few windows and those that are available are sealed shut? I have an idea.....how about sending me to see some of the wonders you created - how about Italy or the somewhere in the mountains? You know how much I would appreciate them!! God has not seen fit to open up these opportunities (yet) but I can still enjoy the beauty and sense of place wherever I am. I can try to add beauty and provide a peaceful haven to my surroundings. And, if I don't get to see the wonders of the world, I suspect heaven is going to knock my socks off!
Friday, July 17, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
The Worst Critic
Tell me if this sounds familiar....here is a typical start to my day. I'm heading somewhere and get out the door, probably into the car when I realize I've forgotten my lunch/keys/something. "Oh!! You idiot!" I mumble to myself under my breath and I berate poor self as I head back into the house to find whatever I'm missing.
I don't know about you but I probably critic in this fashion oh...at least twice a week. I've forgotten something or misplaced an item or generally did not arrange my schedule well or made a bad judgement error "You big dummy!" or maybe something worse is running through my head.
We can be pretty tough on ourselves. Our own worst critic. But why don't we in the same equal value praise ourselves when we figure something out or pull off a whole arrangement smoothly. Why don't we say to selves "Oh, how clever of you!" and "My aren't you a genius!" Believe me, I don't have those types of conversations. But we do, on a daily basis, get things right. We even have moments of brilliance!
Years ago, we had a monster dog named Sam. Sam was a 135 lb golden lab built something like a football player. He weighed more than I did and well, if Sam wanted to go somewhere or do something far be it from me to try and stop him. One morning I was foolishly walking Sam on a leash down the street. I could see coming towards us, another dog and owner out for a walk. This was a problem. I knew Sam was going to probably go running to either meet or eat the dog coming closer and there was nothing I could do about it. I could cross the street but that would not stop Sam. Mere cars meant nothing to him (he was once run over by a truck - I mean right over his back side. He rolled over got up and headed into the house). Then the lightbulb went off, a moment of brilliance! There was a signpost beside me. I wrapped Sam's leash around a couple of times, pulled it taut and held on tight. Now I had leveridge! The other dog and owner had crossed the street (a wise move) but as they came closer Sam barked and barked, lunging for all his might. I held on and voila - I had done the impossible.
Now I'm not suggesting you begin preening your ego, but let's go a little easy - acknowledge the things we do right, even those flashes of genius and lay off calling ourselves idiots or dummys or whatever when we mess up.
I don't know about you but I probably critic in this fashion oh...at least twice a week. I've forgotten something or misplaced an item or generally did not arrange my schedule well or made a bad judgement error "You big dummy!" or maybe something worse is running through my head.
We can be pretty tough on ourselves. Our own worst critic. But why don't we in the same equal value praise ourselves when we figure something out or pull off a whole arrangement smoothly. Why don't we say to selves "Oh, how clever of you!" and "My aren't you a genius!" Believe me, I don't have those types of conversations. But we do, on a daily basis, get things right. We even have moments of brilliance!
Years ago, we had a monster dog named Sam. Sam was a 135 lb golden lab built something like a football player. He weighed more than I did and well, if Sam wanted to go somewhere or do something far be it from me to try and stop him. One morning I was foolishly walking Sam on a leash down the street. I could see coming towards us, another dog and owner out for a walk. This was a problem. I knew Sam was going to probably go running to either meet or eat the dog coming closer and there was nothing I could do about it. I could cross the street but that would not stop Sam. Mere cars meant nothing to him (he was once run over by a truck - I mean right over his back side. He rolled over got up and headed into the house). Then the lightbulb went off, a moment of brilliance! There was a signpost beside me. I wrapped Sam's leash around a couple of times, pulled it taut and held on tight. Now I had leveridge! The other dog and owner had crossed the street (a wise move) but as they came closer Sam barked and barked, lunging for all his might. I held on and voila - I had done the impossible.
Now I'm not suggesting you begin preening your ego, but let's go a little easy - acknowledge the things we do right, even those flashes of genius and lay off calling ourselves idiots or dummys or whatever when we mess up.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Summer Reading
It is as clear to me as if it was yesterday. The thrill of learning how to read. The wonder I felt when those words in the Dr. Seuss books flowed together and made funny, funky rhyming sounds in my head. Once I mastered the ABC's I was hooked and soon moved on to devouring whatever the country school library had to offer. So off I went on every adventure with Nancy Drew and then overseas for a wild ride with the Black Stallion on a deserted island. I have a few favourites from childhood: "When Marnie Was There" sticks in my head and I'm still looking for that book. "White Summer" was a story about a young girl who moves to the country - I read that one a few times. When I was about 8 or 9 my father would sit the 4 of us down in a circle (my two other sisters and one brother) and read Lord of the Rings to us. I re-read them when I was a teenager and then again in my 30s. In fact in my lifetime we have had one cat named Gandalf and two cats named Frodo! I still have a love for a good fantasy filled with mythical creatures and faeries, dwarves and magic in the woods.
But the days of having the time to read, read, read for hours and hours and hours seem to be as elusive as Tinker Bell as we get older - except in the summer, when I'm on holidays. Let the summer reading begin.
I'm all for self-help and books to increase my knowledge or encourage spiritual growth but in the summer bring on the pure enjoyment of a good story. I want to find myself immersed in a magical land where characters and creatures of all kinds invade my life until I look up and find I'm actually in a tent with sunlight flickering on the nylon or in a car speeding down a highway. I love classics too, like Jane Austen and C.S. Lewis, George Eliot or Wilkie Collins.
I wish you all a warm sunny summer (especially if you live in a climate where winter pervades half the year), and lots of time to read. Stretch out in a hammock, lie down on a damp, sandy towel on the beach or let someone else do the driving and read the hours away! Read what you like but my personal suggestion is leave the indepth, self-help, how-to books for another time and immerse yourself in a tale filled with mystery, and magic, wonder and excitement.
But the days of having the time to read, read, read for hours and hours and hours seem to be as elusive as Tinker Bell as we get older - except in the summer, when I'm on holidays. Let the summer reading begin.
I'm all for self-help and books to increase my knowledge or encourage spiritual growth but in the summer bring on the pure enjoyment of a good story. I want to find myself immersed in a magical land where characters and creatures of all kinds invade my life until I look up and find I'm actually in a tent with sunlight flickering on the nylon or in a car speeding down a highway. I love classics too, like Jane Austen and C.S. Lewis, George Eliot or Wilkie Collins.
I wish you all a warm sunny summer (especially if you live in a climate where winter pervades half the year), and lots of time to read. Stretch out in a hammock, lie down on a damp, sandy towel on the beach or let someone else do the driving and read the hours away! Read what you like but my personal suggestion is leave the indepth, self-help, how-to books for another time and immerse yourself in a tale filled with mystery, and magic, wonder and excitement.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Freedom of a 5-year-old
It's amazing what you can pick up on as you bike to work......so, the other day as I was biking to work there was this little girl on the sidewalk. She wore a long pretty flowered skirt and a T-shirt. Just as I was going by she stopped, went up on her toes, came down and with one arm gracefully extended and the other crooked in beside made a low, elegant sweeping bow to the sun, or trees or God above, I'm not really sure as there was no one in front of her or nearby for that matter.
Now, if I was walking along and suddenly stopped to do a low sweeping bow for no reason or, maybe a twirl in mid step, what would people think? It's like if you tear down the street full tilt when you are 10 or maybe even 12 it is quite acceptable but once you hit about 15 and you tear down the street full tilt, people generally suspect you are either a) stealing something or b) running away from something you shouldn't have done. There is great freedom in childhood: you can skip down the street (try doing that when you are in your 40s), you can run, if you want to, or sing at the top of your lungs.
Again, the other day as I was biking to work I came across a couple. They were well dressed, in their mid 30s and just heading down the sidewalk in an indepth conversation. Nothing wrong with that - but they were also both pushing little scooters. They pushed along, one foot swinging to push and keep the momentum going while the other stayed stationery on the scooters all the while just having a nice morning chat. They showed no self-consciousness to their actions which made me think - "sure, why not ride scooters to work, who cares how old you are or what you are wearing?" But it did look, well odd to me; Biking sure, roller blading even, but scooters?
As we get older we are molded into norms and society's comfortable rules. We become self-conscious of our actions and how we look to others. Oh, the freedom to be 5 again!
Last week on Father's Day the family when paint balling. I want you to know I was fully covered - coveralls, gloves, head gear. But there was one spot I was not. So, as I was walking back to my team after a game I was shot by a team mate (friendly fire) at close range (about 10 feet) right in the throat. If I may make a suggestion, tell your kids to wear turtle necks, or something. The girls at work, most of whom are nurses, scolded me telling me I could have crushed my larynx or damaged my voice box. After a little while of having difficulty breathing I came out all right and continued the game. But what I was left with was a huge wound to my neck and looked like a really big hickey! Talk about self-conscious!
Now, if I was walking along and suddenly stopped to do a low sweeping bow for no reason or, maybe a twirl in mid step, what would people think? It's like if you tear down the street full tilt when you are 10 or maybe even 12 it is quite acceptable but once you hit about 15 and you tear down the street full tilt, people generally suspect you are either a) stealing something or b) running away from something you shouldn't have done. There is great freedom in childhood: you can skip down the street (try doing that when you are in your 40s), you can run, if you want to, or sing at the top of your lungs.
Again, the other day as I was biking to work I came across a couple. They were well dressed, in their mid 30s and just heading down the sidewalk in an indepth conversation. Nothing wrong with that - but they were also both pushing little scooters. They pushed along, one foot swinging to push and keep the momentum going while the other stayed stationery on the scooters all the while just having a nice morning chat. They showed no self-consciousness to their actions which made me think - "sure, why not ride scooters to work, who cares how old you are or what you are wearing?" But it did look, well odd to me; Biking sure, roller blading even, but scooters?
As we get older we are molded into norms and society's comfortable rules. We become self-conscious of our actions and how we look to others. Oh, the freedom to be 5 again!
Last week on Father's Day the family when paint balling. I want you to know I was fully covered - coveralls, gloves, head gear. But there was one spot I was not. So, as I was walking back to my team after a game I was shot by a team mate (friendly fire) at close range (about 10 feet) right in the throat. If I may make a suggestion, tell your kids to wear turtle necks, or something. The girls at work, most of whom are nurses, scolded me telling me I could have crushed my larynx or damaged my voice box. After a little while of having difficulty breathing I came out all right and continued the game. But what I was left with was a huge wound to my neck and looked like a really big hickey! Talk about self-conscious!
Friday, June 19, 2009
Bull Dog Tenacity
Today is a bit of a milestone for the Crowders. Today is Adrian's Prom - yes my baby is graduating Grade 12 and the Big Grand Finale is tonight. Basically, I have to face the fact that my kids are, well, grown up. I've held on, I've run the race, the finish line is in sight. We will soon be moving into a new era - one that involves a new focus toward couplehood and less on parenthood.
I was reading Cheryl's blog on Habits and would like to think one of my more positive ones is perserverance. During World War II Churchill put it this way "We shall never surrender!" In the 70s some groovy person made a poster with a kitten dangling by it's front paws with "Hang In there Baby!" on the bottom. God, always the story teller, writes in Scripture in Luke 18:3 about a bull-dog tenacious widow who crys for Justice over and over again until the Judge finally gives her his attention.
Early in the morning, as I'm discussing life with Jesus and the best made plans of mice and Cyndi, there is my cat Frodo, at the front door looking at me, to the door, to me, to the door. Then he starts with his Purr/meow that kinds of comes out "purrrreowll?" over and over again. So even though I'm in deep discussion with the God of Heaven, even though I'm talking with the one through whom I live and move and have my being, the One who holds my very life breath in His hands, I will get up, put Jesus on hold, and let the cat out. Why - because Frodo will not give up - he will keep harping at me to open that door until I simply can't think straight and focus.
The moral of the story is of course to keep praying, keep believing, and perservere. The other option is to stop praying, stop believing and give up - and where's the fun in that? "Never Surrender!"
I was reading Cheryl's blog on Habits and would like to think one of my more positive ones is perserverance. During World War II Churchill put it this way "We shall never surrender!" In the 70s some groovy person made a poster with a kitten dangling by it's front paws with "Hang In there Baby!" on the bottom. God, always the story teller, writes in Scripture in Luke 18:3 about a bull-dog tenacious widow who crys for Justice over and over again until the Judge finally gives her his attention.
Early in the morning, as I'm discussing life with Jesus and the best made plans of mice and Cyndi, there is my cat Frodo, at the front door looking at me, to the door, to me, to the door. Then he starts with his Purr/meow that kinds of comes out "purrrreowll?" over and over again. So even though I'm in deep discussion with the God of Heaven, even though I'm talking with the one through whom I live and move and have my being, the One who holds my very life breath in His hands, I will get up, put Jesus on hold, and let the cat out. Why - because Frodo will not give up - he will keep harping at me to open that door until I simply can't think straight and focus.
The moral of the story is of course to keep praying, keep believing, and perservere. The other option is to stop praying, stop believing and give up - and where's the fun in that? "Never Surrender!"
Friday, June 12, 2009
The Power of Senses!
I planted a new rosebush this year and what a beauty it is - even better it has this wonderful peachy scent. My peonies are also opening up this week and their heady perfume hits you when you walk out the front door. I love using all my senses, they are a gift that makes life all that more wonderful. A few years ago I was in a rather nasty boating accident. It went something like this "Boy they are coming up pretty fast behind us" followed 
by "I don't think they are going to Stop!" and ended with "Oh My Gosh there's a boat on top of me!!" With the protection of God above and Sid Molenaar who happened to be in front of me and helped to ramp the boat overtop and not directly into me (thanks again Sid!) I came away with nothing but a bang on my head. The only lasing effects is, well, my sense of smell is kind of wonky. It still works but in a weird way. I can't really explain it except that smells seem to get stuck in my head and will stick with me for days. This is lovely if it's a lovely smell - not so nice when it's an icky smell.
by "I don't think they are going to Stop!" and ended with "Oh My Gosh there's a boat on top of me!!" With the protection of God above and Sid Molenaar who happened to be in front of me and helped to ramp the boat overtop and not directly into me (thanks again Sid!) I came away with nothing but a bang on my head. The only lasing effects is, well, my sense of smell is kind of wonky. It still works but in a weird way. I can't really explain it except that smells seem to get stuck in my head and will stick with me for days. This is lovely if it's a lovely smell - not so nice when it's an icky smell. As I was biking to work the other day a delivery truck full of fresh bread happened to throw open the back door of the truck just as I was going by and this amazing scent of fresh bread hit me full in the face. How can you not appreciate that! I love the smell of clean sheets, a dusty old house on a hot summer day, fresh baked cookies and coffee, pine trees and water that remind me of camping or cottaging, cleaned and polished babies right after bathtime. I love the smell of snow, of snow melting in springtime, a dewy spring morning and a crisp fall day. I could go on and on. Nothing will take you back faster in time then your sense of smell. Get out there and breath in people, breath in!
Friday, June 5, 2009
Searching for Donkeys, Found Destiny
Let's all start this month with a deep breath......and relax....it's June. Let's just slow things down a bit, shall we? Especially you, Amy - easy girl on how many things to accomplish in one day. And I thought I was bad! Sheesh!
I wanted to share something God is revealing to me in His most wonderful way of late. It's no surprise to anyone Life is full of unexpected twists and turns - some good, some not so good. Let's take Samson, for example. Here is a big strapping, good looking lad just doing what big, strapping good-looking lads do hanging around the house. So his father, no doubt in an effort to get him moving, sends him off with a servant to find some missing donkeys. They are not having much luck and are considering giving up the search when the servant suggests they chat with the prophet Samuel who happens to be in the area. Well they do this and the next thing you know Samuel advises Samson not only are the donkeys home but he has been chosen to be anointed the first King of Israel. I'm pretty sure Samson did not see that one coming. God has some wonderful plans for all of us and they may show up when we least expect it! He is preparing open doors, changing the scenery, making connections all behind the scenes that we may not be aware of until one day the curtain opens up and there is a complete change in Destiny! Let's do our best to keep our hearts pliable and our ears open to His direction.
But here is another example - Jesus says to his disciples one day to get in the boat and head across the lake to the other side. Sounds like a good plan - a lovely sail across the lake with the King of the Universe. But again, things turn out differently - the King is sleeping and the weather turns very nasty. It gets to the point where the disciples are thinking this is the end and they are all going to a watery grave.
One day you may be going about your business and then there is a phone call and someone says "there's been an accident" or "it's cancer." And the storm around you begins to overwhelm and the King of the Universe seems to be sleeping. Here is where our faith is tested to the utmost. Is God still working behind the scenes, making connections, changing the scenery? Just like the first example, you may not see what God is doing but rest assured, He is not sleeping. He will still carry you through. And like the Samson, your life will never be the same. What I find ironic about the disciples in the boat is after Jesus wakes up and calms the whole situation, after a night of chaos and near-death experience they land on the other side only to be greeted by an insane maniac who tears his clothes and breaks off chains. You just never know, do you...
On a completely different vein for all those waiting with baited breath on how the big 50th Anniversary Party went, we pulled it off. It was quite chilly outside and it rained a bit but my parents were more than pleased. Special thanks to my sister Heather, for all her help, for Shaun and Holly and Fran's advice, for Sheri helping with fancy sandwiches and for Sheldon supporting all the way and pitching in to make it a success. Here are a couple pictures! 
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