the last few moments of 2024

 It is quiet in the house

outside there are fireworks being set off, and I can hear the pop pop pop of them

the christmas tree lights still glimmer

the glass of wine is almost finished

just like this year ...

it has been a year, and has been full of much

good and hard

happy and sad

making new memories and recalling old ones

birthday celebrations

and some funerals

Father Time marches forward without missing a beat

and we are marching with him whether we want to or not

2024

your chapter is almost complete

and we will shortly turn the page over to the next chapter of our lives

and all that is held within the parameters of the 365 days that begin in ten minutes

and tonight we will go to bed after kissing our people Happy New Year

knowing that tomorrow will feel different because it begins a fresh new year

Goodbye 2024

your chapter is complete and full of stories

some just beginning, some finished and some taking on a plot that is unlike anything we may know

only our Heavenly Father knows what this year holds

and we can be fearful or choose to live it fully

(O LORD HELP ME TO CHOOSE TO LIVE IT FULLY)

and we can write our daily entries on a beautiful new journal

using threads that represent the color and goodness of our lives

on a brand new tapestry

but in this moment

in this time

we say good-bye 2024 ... we end with gratitude in our hearts

and step forward with great hope

Good-bye 2024 - 

your ending is a new beginning

We do not know what you hold 2025

but our trust is fully in the ONE who holds it

and our God never hangs us out to dry!!

So onto the great adventure that I feel like He has for me/us.

Only time will tell.

Good-Bye 2024 ... and hello New Year!

I am glad to see you.

The Gravedigger

 

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There he is, the Gravedigger.  

As I sit in my big white “prayer chair” I look out the window that gives me a direct view of the back portion of the cemetery that belongs to the church that is our neighbour to the south of us.  I saw his blinking light on his machine, as he slowly made his way to the spot where he is to dig.  He positioned his excavator and got out, and walked to the place he was to dig, and then very carefully walked out the measurement, literally drawing a line in the snow with his boot.  And then slowly and it feels with great respect, he digs.  I know from having an excavator in my family (Alvin) that some of the things I see him doing, are to make the hole precise, and the ground around it also level, so that those who place the treasured box down, do not have to worry about uneven ground.  It is a process not to be hurry and I cannot help but wonder what is going through this man’s thoughts.  He knows that it has to be exact.  Bigger than what is needed but not much.  He knows that he is working in an area that has other loved ones buried close by,  I can tell that this is not the firs t grave that he has dug.  He gets out to do a visual inspection.  Everything is important.  The depth, the width and the length.  He hops back in to do some more work.

Meanwhile around him, all is still.  Snow has covered everything now.  Snow came late to our part of the country, but everything has a blanket of white.  The trees are bare, and grey.  The grasses yellowy brown but still moving with a slight wind.  Not enough wind to move the wind ornament, but enough to make the bullrushes gently sway.  

The mud pile is growing, and with each bucketful, the arm of the excavator goes deeper into the hole.  Even that has to be even on the bottom, so that the casket lays level.  Nothing about this process is rushed.  It is slow, precise, careful.  Even in death, rules have to be followed.Even in death, there is a process.  And I have been given a front row seat as I sit here watching and typing.  The Gravedigger is out again, smoothing things, tossing a big clump of mud, still warm from the long autumn season, back into the hole.  He grabs his hood from the back and pulls it over his head.  

This process of digging is not foreign to me, as we have seen the Gravedigger several times at the cemetery.  And my thoughts go back to 27 and 28 years ago when our men went out to dig the grave at Balsam Bay Cemetery, first of all in May, for my Mum’s burial and then a year and a half later for my Dad’s burial in November.  There was no excavator, but just a group of men who loved the person they were digging the hole for.  One shovel full at a time, bringing out the sandy soil that is at the cemetery alongside of Lake Winnipeg.  A labour of deep respect.  A labour of love.  And then once the casket is lowered, the shovels are shared around, and family covers in the hole, and makes it complete.  

The Gravedigger next door is gone now - as I type this, the casket has obviously been placed, and the mud put back in on top of the treasured remains in the wooden box buried deep below.  He has finished the task and he and his excavation have left the graveyard.  

As I watched him, I could not help but think of life.  Seeing a grave being dug is a reminder of how quickly life goes by.  The Bible describes our life as a vapour or mist.  And sometimes when I look at how quickly the years are passing, it actually is unbelievable.

Seems as I age, I am attending more funerals.  I remember when I used to laugh that my mum and dad’s social life consisted of funerals.  It seemed they were just going to one after another. 

Life is but a vapour …

Our life matters.  It is a story that God has written.  HIS story written with us.  The Gravedigger likely doesn’t know the story of most of the people whose remains he buries.  But I wonder what his thoughts are as he digs the hole in which to lay the casket.  I have come to see in life that what we will leave behind a legacy - whether good or bad.  Each one of us will lay down a legacy.  

When I looked at the definition I saw two things.  The first one is this: 1) legacy : an amount of money or property left to someone in a will.  And the second definition is 2) the long-lasting impact of particular events, actions, etc. that took place in the past, or of a person’s life.

I am not going to talk about the first definition.  I do realize as my son put it one day, that their generation (my kids are 42 and 39) are a generation that will likely be affected the most by what parents leave behind and as Josh put it, I am not sure it will all be good for our generation (or something to that affect).  I am not worried about our kids handling whatever we leave behind, as they have made good decisions in life till now, and don’t anticipate it would change.  

However the legacy that I think is the most valuable legacy is #2.  The long lasting impose of particular events, actions, etc that took place in the past, or of a person’s life.  This is what is the most important in my opinion.  And I believe this is what I received as a legacy from my Mum, my Dad, Dad K, and Mom K.   And this is the kind of legacy that I want to leave for my kids.

The legacy I desire is the kind that they know was my life all the time, not just some times when I was on good behaviour.  I want my kids to know how much I love Jesus, and why.  I want my kids to know how much I love their Dad, and how much I love them, and how much I love my grandchildren.  I want the legacy that I leave to be one that causes them to want the same for their life.  I want my life to be full of everything that God desires for me.  I want my legacy to include words of wisdom both prayed, spoken and written to them.  I want my legacy to include the way God was faithful to me, and to us as a family.  I want my legacy to include them knowing that even in the hardest times, and even if I asked the hard questions, I still believed that God was and is faithful!  And He is Sovereign.  I want my legacy to be such that they know that I lived a life of integrity.  That I was kind and honest, and that I would fight for what was right and just.  I want my legacy to include my Bibles that I have written in, drawn in, and read over the many years of my life.  

Sure, I will leave them a few bucks LORD WILLING, but the biggest things that I want to leave are everything that makes me who I am as a Daughter of the most High, and a wife who loved to love her husband and a Mom who wanted to live fully and have fun while I did, and that my kids and grandkids would remember the spontaneous things, and the laughter.  As well, that my legacy would include the feelings of being held, and hugged and laid hands on and prayed over.

There is so much more, but those are some of the things that the Gravedigger had me thinking about.  You know, we need to live a life all out for Jesus and that is my plan!  We never know when the wisp or vapour of our life is blown out, but one thing I know is, I know that I am secure in the gift of Jesus amazing love for me on the cross.  

Yes, Gravediggers do teach us something, if we are quiet enough to watch, and to sit and reflect.  

And sure, I still laugh about my son who back in 96 when I had been sick, he jokingly told me not to worry about getting my house in order, because they would just call 1-800-JUNK but please tell him what books the money is hidden in lol…. To which I replied, “Sorry we have already spent it!”  

Only God knows our first breath and our last, but my prayer is that my legacy, when the time comes, will live on in the lives of my kids .  That is my prayer.   And all caused by the Gravedigger just doing his thing in the cemetery!!  Who would have thought!

When my "boys" are at camp ...

 

This morning my daughter and I left the cottage, went down the road, and brought Maverick to camp.  

This is Boys Camp.  He has been a bit anxious about it, since this is his first time.  But he is down there and so is his two boy cousins Everett (who is working in the dish pit) and Roger (who is also a camper, being his last year) and then he is also there with Slew-foot (Poppa's camp name).   Well, Auntie Leah is there too, and will also keep an eye out on the newest camper from our family.

We got there before the bus came.  And then after about 15 minutes we watched it come down the road and stop, and out came all the boys that took the bus from Winnipeg.

Seeing that camp bus always brings memories.  Originally, the camp bus used to come down the treed lane where our cottage was ... this was when the camp was on Elk Island.  70 years ago, my dad, along with his brothers, and his brothers in Christ, followed the call from God on my dad's life.  I remember those days on Elk Island.  I did not experience the army tents for cabins, and the "christmas tree beds" as my sister called them (boughs made it a bit more comfortable than laying on the ground).   By the time I came along 4 years after the camp began in 1954) I went down to camp as a month old, and then was at camp for the full summer every year until my 19th year when I had a job that only gave me two weeks off.

Camp.  Those memories are deeply embedded into my heart.  Riding the "Pelican" over to the island. (The Pelican was built as a flat bottomed boat with an end that was drawn up and down to allow people to walk on and off)  The gold colored sand in the cliffs going up.  The hawk that waited outside of our little managers cabin the year we took our little Pomeranian to camp.  Then there was the little toads, as well as the big green frogs.  The outhouses with four seaters.  Washing our faces with cold water in metal basins.  The daisy field.  The blueberries that were always in supply.  The smell of the cold cellar that was put into the ground, lined with big blocks of ice that was cut out of the lake in the winter, and then straw put on top.  I still smell the vegetables in that cold cellar. I remember when they mixed concrete and made the big shuffleboard.  I remember the army truck that was taken over to the island.  The sound of the bell (which is the same camp bell that rings today! And finding porcupine quills after a porcupine was seen under the cabin.  Cabin clean up which meant we also decorated outside with the gold sand, stones, shells, sticks or flowers.  We had skits on Sunday and what felt like a long ride to the north part of the island in the pelican.  I remember we did not swim on Sundays.  And I will always remember the hum of the dynamo which supplied all the power for the camp.  They would tell us we had about half an hour to go to the washroom, brush our teeth and get into bed until the dynamo was shut off.  And it was pitch black.  The counsellors used to read us our night devotions and story by flashlight.  Oh, and we all autographed the walls.  When we got older, sometimes we wrote 4 initials on the wall, enclosed in a heart lol.  Oh, and we had a Faith Bible Camp theme song that we sang every chapel session!

 I loved camp.  I loved those early years being a "camp kid" which basically meant we showed up for meals, and chapel, but otherwise had the run of the camp.  I realize how much trust there was that we would be safe and sound at the end of the day.  We thank God that He has always protected the campers in the water.  My sister and two other guys had a close call one day when they took the new sailboat out for a ride.  My dad kept his eye on them, and realize that the sail was in the water.  A motorboat got to them, one of them had tried to swim, and they were able to rescue him and then the other two holding onto the boat.  I think that maiden voyage for the sailboat was its one and only voyage.  

Things have changed.  Faith Bible Camp moved all their buildings across the ice during the winter of 68-69.  The little plywood cabins have been replaced with beautiful new ones which also this year include AC!!  The dining hall has been replaced with a new one - with a state of the art kitchen!   No four seater outhouses.  No cold cellar in the ground.  No shuffleboard (in fact a few years ago when we boated over to the island, there was so much erosion that the concrete was hanging half over the edge of the cliff.  The bell is still the same bell and still calls people to the next event.  There is still cabin clean up - but it doesn't include outdoor decorations any more.  The dynamo no longer supplies power.  There are still frogs, and fish flies but there is so much more as well!!  Oh and the theme song is no longer sang.  (For the Faith Bible Camp we praise Thee ....)

I could likely go on for a long time talking about memories ... but meanwhile, my prayers are for my boys.  At this point Everett likely just finished bedtime snack dishes ...  Maverick and Roger will be in their bunks for the first night of this camp.  Josh is speaking half the time, he and Leah are also on site directors or managers - I am not sure of the title - but basically they make sure things are clean and in order for each camp.  And Alvin is likely fast asleep.  He is driving the boat this week, and mentioned that spending a few hours out on the lake has tired him out.

I am glad that they are all down at Faith.  And look forward to when Ash, Matilda and I will be working down with the rest of them in a couple weeks.

It is surreal to get to see and work with the kids of people that I grew up with and worked with.

It is surreal to realize that what my Dad was called to 70 years ago, is still growing and going and telling kids about Jesus.  

It is surreal to see my grandchildren representing a third generation being blessed by my dad's obedience to following God.  And my mum's as I don't believe he could have done it without her help and blessing.

So, tonight I will go to bed, thanking God for FBC and praying that my Maverick's first year at camp is a very special one!  Surrounded by family, inh one of the most beautiful places - enjoying God's creation ... of course it will be special.

This Granny's heart is full!

16

Today, July 24th.  16 years. (seems like yesterday, seems like forever)

My body seems to keep the time, and days before today, it moves into a different space, emotionally, but also physically.  I feel that a special date is coming.  A date that we had patiently and with great joy, waited for.  And a date that we then saw our joy turn to grief in the greatest sorrow ever.  

Today marks the day that our firstborn grandchild Jay Benjamin was born silently, and went from the warm comfort of his Momma's body, into the arms of Jesus who knew him before he was created.  (Psalm 139)

I have thought of how for all those months, he heard his Momma's heartbeat, and his Momma and Daddy's voice.  All of the dreams for him ....    

I often watch his brothers Everett and Roger and imagine that since they are both such a beautiful combination of their parents, that they would also look a lot like their big brother Jay.  

This day will be permanently etched into our hearts and our minds.  If you asked us, we could tell you sights, sounds, feelings, the things we did ...  but the thing is some people forget, and to be honest, why should others remember the pain and grief of another?   

Some people have implied that we should "get over it", that we had talked long enough, or maybe we had not gotten "through it " because we mentioned him so much.  You know, one just has to give that to God, and forgive people for saying the darnedest things lol because the truth is, no one knows the pain of losing a baby, your son, your grandson, your great grand son, unless you have walked it yourself.   So one has to forgive.  BUT THE THING IS ... losing a baby, a child, a grandson is something you never get over, or get through, but time does have a way of moving on and grief doesn't seem so raw.  However, you always remember.  The body does keep score.  And our hearts have a missing piece in them.

I look back at that year - all that it held - writing in my journal on that first day of 2008, and once I wrote out my favourite verse about God having a plan and a purpose for my life -  "LORD I give you this year, all that it has from this first day, January 1, 2008 until Dec 31st, 2008.  I do not know what this year holds, but I know that you hold it."    It is very easy to say that we know that, and that we trust the One who holds us and is Sovereign ... but that day, well just let me say, I asked alot of WHY's??  I know that it is easy to trust when you are on the mountain top but so hard when you are in the valley - but my goodness - I don't ever want to be in a valley without my God!

I turned 50 that year.  Today I am 66 and I look back and see all the things - all the life that has happened.  And I realize that walking with God does not mean everything is roses.  But it does mean that in the hardest things, I know who is giving me the strength to walk the journey and to be honest, sometimes the walking is more like laying face down, scraped, muddy, messy, covered with tears  - and then trying to crawl.

Today I am thankful - for those months that we got to anticipate holding our grandson Jay Benjamin.  For those weeks of anticipation.  For watching him grow inside his Momma.  Today I am thankful for the gift of family.  For being able to weep and grieve together, to hold one another up, to sing together through tears, but also to walk forward knowing that everything of worth is created through the hardest of times.  I believe we have seen strength within our small tribe.   I know it as our strength as a family was put to a great test again over the past year.   I am thankful for my husband and kids cause I know that we have one another.

Would I wish our Jay was with us - well that is a dumb question.  Of course I do.  This year he would have be blowing our 16 candles, and would likely have his license.   And I have a feeling he would also love football like his Momma's side of the family, and hockey like his Dad.  I have a feeling he would be close to his brothers and would show the kindness, love and family ties that his brothers show.  I have a feeling he would love all his grandparents.  But in the meantime, I imagine him in heaven - not as the baby we held, but as the best age ....  I had a sweet vision of him once (I believe it was 2014) when I was at  Sunnyside - and he was a teen.  I guess we won't know till we get to heaven, but I do believe there will be some big heavenly hugs.

Yesterday I had to smile - as I always open my "fortune" cookies at chinese restaurants ... and mine said "the best is yet to come."  People who know me, know that I believe this - the best IS yet to come.  I am enjoying this life here (for the most part) but I believe that the best really is ahead - when I meet Jesus face to face, and all of the loved ones that have gone to heaven - and that includes our Jay.  There is always a sense of missing him, but one day - I will see him, and we can talk.  Granny to Grandson.   

So today, I will do what I like to do on this day - I will go and put down some daisies - to remember his life - a live lived only within his Momma, but I will also remember that one day this time of missing him, will be no more.    We love you even though we did not get to know you. So, until Heaven Jay Benjamin. 

Always in my heart, my thoughts, 

Love your Granny J

An offer to you re: Spiritual Direction

Thankful for my journey in and down ... 

A journey of learning to stand, and valuing the rootedness I have, and allowing my roots to tap into the source living water as the Holy Spirit fills and moves within me, and through me.

This journey has been slow.  One step at a time, and a a lot  of sitting, thinking, listening,  journalling and spending time with the ONE who gives me breath!  Where would I be without God in my life, and the power of the Holy Spirit.  There is no right or wrong to this journey, and there is no end this side of Heaven.  However I see how I have grown and learned so much about who I am, who I have been created to be at the very essence of my being.  Words do not come easy to describe this journey.  In fact, I don't think I would do it any justice even if I tried.  But I know what I have learned and grown in, and I am so thankful.

Years and years ago (in the mid 80's) a friend of mine encouraged me to begin taking "spiritual retreats" at St. Benedicts Retreat and Conference Centre (which is no longer operating) just north of the city of Winnipeg, on Main Street.  I remember those retreats with such fondness as I began to experience the stirrings within my soul ~ calling me to go deeper.  Shortly after, in the late 80's, I began to see someone from our church, for Spiritual Direction.  At the time this idea was new to me, and I would say new to most people.  After the early 2000's, I still met with my Spiritual Director.  

Life carried on, and I was heavily involved in ministry.  I had gone through New Way Ministry under Dr. Larry Crabb.  My goodness, I loved learning under that man of God!  Those intensive weeks were such formative times for me, and the work within my soul.  God does that - uses people to lead us and help us to press in.  I got my certificate as a Spiritual Director and just kept thinking that it was going to help me be a better listener while I following the LORD in retreat ministry - the call that we received very clearly on our lives. 

In 2021 I decided it was time to meet again with a Spiritual Director, and that is where Cathy AJ Hardy came into my life.  I knew Cathy as she had led the two Silent Retreats for Women at The Mark Centre in Abbotsford, BC.  As well I had the joy of hosting Cathy for a night of music.  About 20 people met to listen to her sing and play, and tell story.   Reaching out to Cathy seemed like a good idea to me and so I reached out and asked her if she had room to take me on.  And she did.  

Meeting with Cathy coincided with me also entering into the Soul Care program that Cathy has developed and offers.  So for the two years of Spiritual Direction, I also was under her leadership.  And then I made an even bigger decision, and that was to apply to the Soul Care Spiritual Direction Training.

I was accepted and we began the two years of study last October.  At that time, I did change to another Spiritual Director who I am really appreciating getting to know.  

Me with my Spiritual Director, Judith 

Where am I going with this?  I am so thankful for all that I have learned, and grown in, and for what God has done in an through me.  In Cathy's book WALK WITH ME, she says "I believe that Spiritual Direction It's about walking each other home to the truth, beauty and essence of our souls.  I believe there's a mystery that we touch in Spiritual Direction that is eternal and beautiful.  Some would say this is the beauty of the soul.  Some would say that we are touching the Presence of God.  Some would say that it's the union of the two."

I am sharing this with you at this point as a number of you have asked me about my journey first with a spiritual director and also now as I am in school.  At this point in our schooling, we are looking forward (with shaky knees I might add) to beginning our practicum as Spiritual Directors.  We are looking for people who may consider an amazing opportunity to have a spiritual director for 6 - 1 hour zoom sessions - FREE OF CHARGE. Yep, no charge to you, except a commitment to show up for your zoom sessions, prepared to have someone journey with you.  Our teachers/leaders will be taking all the names that come in, and just to be clear, friends will not be paired with their friends.  There is a good reason behind this.  

IF YOU ARE INTERESTED - please email me at womenrefreshed@gmail.com or message me on facebook and I will send you the letter and the intake form.  Again - this is for 6 months free spiritual direction.  You won't regret it.

I am also attaching the link for the Soul Care program, https://soulcare.ca should you wish to look for yourself.    

If you want to talk more about it - let me know - we can talk over a cup of coffee either in person or by FaceTime or phone.  

Think and Pray about it,  and please don't wait too long to let me know :)

j

Enjoy this beautiful song by Cathy called COME TO THE TABLE

The morning of the day my Mum went home to be with Jesus (1996)

(Grade 6)

(20 years of age, 1978)

This is how I love remembering my mum <3

Today marks 28 years.  And this morning I will once again take out roses to the cemetery, and spend some time thinking about the mother she was to us.  28 years is a good chunk of my life.  I was just a month shy of turning 38 when my mum went to be with Jesus.   Its funny - I used to call her mOm but she always signed her name love MUM.  So it always seems fitting that when I remember her now, I smile as I write Mum.

It has been an interesting thing these past couple years as I have been doing much interior work, or soul care.  I have been thinking a lot of growing up, and my relationships.  And I realize that with my mum, my greatest times were after I graduated, and then when I was working and would come home for lunches, and then when I married and had the children.  I spent a lot more time with my mum during my years from 18-38 and especially from 20 onward once I got married.  I think it was the way that I had a different focus, and somehow just wanted to be with my mum more.  How I wish I had asked her more questions.  How I wish I had asked her about her life and written down story.  How I wish I asked her about the pain that made her sleep most nights in the living room lazy boy chair.  How I wish I asked her the things that would now help me understand myself during this last third of my life.  

My Mum.  I can honestly say that I never heard her ever gossip.  (My brother Tim is much like mum in this way and I have learned so much from him).  She never put down anyone.  She was gentle even with my dad who sometimes often pushed the envelope.  She was organized (man I wish I got that from her).  Mum was a woman who was always behind the scenes doing the lion's share of the work often.  When I think of the years that she ordered the food for Faith Bible Camp.  She was still doing this in the early 80's which means at that point it was almost 30 years.   But She. Never. Complained.   Even with the pain that I know she lived with.  (I need to complain less I guess)

My Mum loved Jesus.  I would often find her quietly in prayer, or doing her Bible reading.  She was consistent in her faith.  Not flamboyant or charismatic, but consistent.  

I had so much that I was just getting to experience with my Mum, and then she got called home to heaven.  She was only just 74.  But her body was weary from some late onset effects of the diabetes.  And her heart was affected too.  

The night before mum went to heaven, Tim and I stayed the night.  In the morning Tim went down to find some coffee for us, which meant that I had time to talk to Mum.  She had not talked to us since Wednesday.  The doctor had told us she would likely have a week, and Sunday, that morning, was a week.  I went beside my mum, and took her hand.  Alvin always said to us - "Keep talking to your mom because she can still hear you even if she is not responding to you."  So I talked to her.  I told her how much I loved her and how much we were so thankful for how she raised us, and how she loved us.  And then I told her that she could go, we would be okay.  We would miss her so much, but she had given so much to us, that we would be okay.   And all of a sudden two tears came.  I could hardly believe my eyes, but I knew that Mum heard me.

We watched Mum breathe her last breaths shortly after 1, and without any effort at all, she passed from this world, into the presence of Jesus who she loved and served.

I remember that like it was yesterday.  But today marks 28 years.

So, I will head to the cemetery.  I most often go alone.  Last year I went and took roses with my little brother Tim.  That will be a beautiful memory.  I actually kind of like going alone, as I can just be there as long or as little as I want.  I can listen to the waves of the lake lapping.  I can feel the sunshine on my face.  I can listen to the birds.  I can talk out loud (ya, I do when I am there).  I KNOW I am going to the cemetery for ME, only my Mum's remains are there - but for me, it is a small trek, and a time to remember.  I always take roses because I used to always buy roses for her when she was alive - for sure monthly, sometimes more.   

So today I will head out to the Balsam Bay cemetery - and chances are, the birds will hear me thanking God once again for my mom and dad and the legacy they left!  

When sleep does not come ... post?

The lettered framed pic is done by my daughter at my request a few years ago
 and the paintingon the wall behind it I bought from Faye Hall
at her home gallery show (think it was 2012)and is part of three paintings.  
This one is called HOPE
(I believe as the other two (not shown) are Joy and Peace) 

The night I wanted to sleep, sleep has not come.  I tried.  I honestly did.  I went to bed early, thinking that after I listened to my app Lectio 365, the evening portion, I would nod off into sleep land.  And then I listened to Lectio 365 again.  Tossed.  Turned.  Seemed that the sound of the tv at the other end of our suite was more than my brain could handle, even though it was not that loud.  More tossing, more turning. And then well, right about 11:45 ... the snoring began.  Seems he had no trouble waking up from a slumber in the lazy boy chair (always happens normally to both of us, perhaps I should have stayed in the tv area) and within 5 minutes of falling asleep, the snoring was profound!  I tried to stay in bed, I honestly did.   But finally I threw back the covers, grabbed my glasses and came upstairs.  WIDE AWAKE.

Outside it is pitch black.  Perhaps the stars are shining, but it is pretty hard to tell from where I am sitting.  Inside I have the one set of lights on, but otherwise the house is dark, and still.  Upstairs I have a couple retreating tonight.  I actually thought I would get to bed early since I have to be in the kitchen at 5:30, but it appears that was wishful thinking on my part.  Just too much happening in my head.

I decided to pour myself a tiny glass of red wine - perhaps that will help me to fall asleep.  I would take the wonderful "sleep juice" that I have in my fridge but being that I have to be up in just over 4 hours, I know that would do me in for at least 8 hours, so I won't take the 1/4 tsp of wonder juice!! (seriously the best thing ever invented for helping one sleep, but don't take it if you only need 5 hours!)  I am aware (yes, thank you) that screen time does not help settle the brain but does the opposite, but seriously, at this point I think I will be okay after I write this post.  

The tinnitus in my ears is loud ... always louder when it is so quiet, but it is pretty loud 24/7 for the past 14 and a half years.  I may see if I can get a white noise machine.  Supposedly that can help.  Sometimes the ringing is exhausting.  I have sympathy for anyone dealing with the same.  Just not fun.

But tonight, it is just other things adding.  Anxiety has been present these last days.  I once heard that "anxiety is unmet expectations" and I have been mulling that one over lately.  Ya, I guess you could say we have had some unmet expectations in our lives lately.  I was never one to experience anxiety until after we lost our grandson in 2008.  Even then I didn't experience it until a half year later when I encountered some hard things in my workplace.  And then it seemed that the anxiety laid dormant until a few years ago, and to be honest, not sure what brought it back up again.  But there it was.  The feeling is perhaps different with each person.  But you know when you know.  Let's just leave it at that.  

I talked with my doctor, and I also talked with a psychologist who was amazing.  I have been able to navigate through my times of anxiety although sometimes it is harder to get through the attack.  Years ago the doctor prescribed some tiny blue pills that she said to use if/when needed for anxiety.  It literally gave "take a pill" a new meaning!  Seriously.  Out of that prescription for 30, lets just say, I still have quite a few, but somehow it is good to know they are there in an emergency (if I can find where I left them!). Joking.  NOT JOKING. 

These little pills have been helpful when I have felt a panic attack coming on.  OR for instance, I took one when I had to have an MRI.  Or sometimes if I know I have to have impressions at the dentist office.  Yes, makes no sense at times what it is that brings it on, other times I have a hunch.

Anxiety is no fun.  It makes no sense.  It makes alot of sense.  (are you tracking with me). About two months ago I had such a big attack.  It was quite the test as it felt big and oh man, there were tears.  But I could not find the little blue pills (I take them with me like a security blanket when I travel, just. in . case and it seems I did not put them back). So in the midst of this panic attack, I realized I needed to navigate through it without them. And I did.  I began to do breath prayers.  And invited God into this panic.  I know, I should do that first of all, but TBT it was not my first thought!  I wept.  I breathed deep.  I prayed through short breath prayers.  And God answered.    At one point Alvin asked me what was wrong, to which I replied, 'I DON'T KNOW!" but when I was able to think better, I realized what it was all about.  That weekend three things happened which I walked in and through, and then when I got home, and quiet - BAM there it was.  And there I was - messy. anxious. broken and man, it felt so out of my control.  BUT GOD was there.  I knew it, and with His help, we walked it. However, the next morning it felt like this weird panic attack hangover.  Is that real?  I texted a bit with one of our best friends who said, yes, unfortunately that is real.  Hmmm....

UGH.  Anxiety.  Yep, it is real.  I see it all over the place.  I sit with people, and listen to their stories.  I pray.  It is like the plague of this time.  Invisible but so prevalent.  And in this all, we can call on God.  Today I talked with someone walking through anxiety and I realize it is no respecter of age, gender, nationality, or financial class.  We talked about how it is so hard at times WITH GOD and we agreed we did not know how people walked through anxiety without God.  (O LORD GOD, thank you so much for walking this hard road with me).

I was reminded again as I talked with a friend, that Jesus did warn his disciples by telling them that in this world they would have trouble.  No, he didn't say, out of you 12, one or two would have trouble.  he did not say, you might have trouble.  NO he said - you will have trouble!  Here is the verse from The Message:  John 16:31-33

Jesus answered them, “Do you finally believe? In fact, you’re about to make a run for it—saving your own skins and abandoning me. But I’m not abandoned. The Father is with me. I’ve told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I’ve conquered the world.”

I take comfort in that, yes even in the midst of any and all anxiety - that God is with me.  Sometimes I will be honest, I am like Peter who took his eyes off of the LORD as he walked on the water towards Jesus.  Guess I am not unlike others who likely do the same thing at times.  So thankful that God knows that!!

ANYHOW ... it is now 1:35 and now I have to be up in 4 hours, making pancakes lol but I have a couple more thoughts to write down here: I have been wrestling with many anxious thoughts over the past couple weeks up to and including today.  I think the enemy likes nothing more than to see someone struggling with anxiety, but as Beth Moore said once - "tell the Devil to get back to hell where he belongs!"  My anxiety comes from a place of unknown and when the "unknown" touches someone I love, then it gets tough.  My anxiety comes from a place of seeing sadness in they eyes of some that I love.  My anxiety comes from broken hopes and unknown future.  My anxiety comes when I hear of things that make no sense, but it is the reality.  God? WHY.  (this came today when I heard of another silent birth and I know the devastating sorrow that brings).  Anxiety.  No respecter of anything.  It just hits full on, with a vengeance.  

But this is what I know:  we live in a broken messed up world.  With God, it is hard, and messy and I would never want to walk it without him!  But some people do.  (I don't know how). I know that anxiety is rampant, but God knows that too and He is with us, even in the messy.  Like a parent that sits by their child as they are hanging over the toilet bowl being sick ... I know my LORD is with me, holding me up.  It doesn't mean that it is easy.  It sure isn't   But it means that HE is holding, carrying, and perhaps at times weeping along with me.  That brings some comfort in the midst of the ugly.  At least for me.

Years ago, I asked my daughter Ashley to letter something for me. (the picture at the top of the page) It is based on this story from Daniel 3: 16-18 - where Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were going to be thrown in a fiery furnace because they were refusing to bow down to the king's image (because they believed in the living God!)  They told the King Nebuchadnessar that they were not worried about what would happen because they knew their God was able to deliver them!  And then they said "But, even if he doesn't ..."

I love this part of the verse.  (I encourage you to go to the verses for yourself and read the whole story.  God DID deliver them and they didn't even have a singe mark on them when they came out of the fiery furnace!!).   I love that they said, BUT even if he doesn't    This is what I believe   In all that I walk through, and in all that we HAVE walked through ... God is God.  He is Sovereign even in the times I am wrestling.  He is sovereign even in the times I am ranting about WHY GOD.  He is sovereign in the times of anxiety.    I know that these days have been anxious at times.  But I know that even if he doesn't deliver me (immediately, or ever, based on how I think he should ) that He is still God!!

Well, it is now two hours later.  My retreater came down for some water about half hour ago and was surprised to see me hunkered down in the corner, awake.  I really think that now I have put some thoughts to paper ... I can perhaps lay back down beside Alvin (who hopefully has snored through the snoring cycle in his sleeping pattern lol.  

For what it is worth, those are my thoughts. 

Night!  (or is it Morning?)

j