Tuesday, April 08, 2014

Lodged; but not dead.


Rest of endless winter wearily lets loose his grip
though bony fingers still clutch
as up through earth; death-shrouded,
shy spring forces herself to be reborn in beauty.
Against resistance,
against apathy,
against fear,
against lethargy,
against the odds of innocence.

Each new tender sign of growth
unfolds with divine pressure
to be enveloped
not just by soothing warmth of sun,
but icy blasts of bitter rain and razor sharp of biting winds.
So cruel.
So necessary for roots to push deep.
So bruising on tender petals that only seek to display beauty.

Now kneeling, lodged in defeat.... but not dead.

I know how the flowers felt.
I know.

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

What Do YOU Laugh At?




"Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me." ; a childhood rhyme no doubt created by an abused child learning the necessity of resilience.

Growing up in a family where humour was often used as put-downs and laced with sarcasm I learned to try and avoid being the object of ridicule. But I can remember many times when, as the baby of the family, my actions or words incited the laughter and teasing of my older siblings. Some might say I should have learned to 'lighten up' others would think I was too sensitive and needed to let it roll off my tender heart. But words stick and the message sent was wounding.

Over the years I have never been comfortable with humour that finds delight in making others feel badly about themselves. Put-downs, regardless of how funny they can sound, always hurt.
I detest any racial, sexist and bigoted attempts to make a joke. Anything that devalues and serves to objectify another person based on gender, culture, colour, religion, orientation, etc.

What's left to laugh at? Well, any comedian knows that self-deprecating humour goes over well... mostly because when we can laugh at ourselves, it gives others permission to laugh at their own weaknesses, idiosyncrasies and quirks.

And there are so many things that are just plain funny to me, however weird or twisted. Silly things. Goofy things. Unexpected giggles.
My favourite comedy movie is "What About Bob"... a neurotic OCD man who ends up causing his smooth-successful psychiatrist to go crazy...when we get glimpses all the way that perhaps it's Bob who, by humbly embracing his brokenness, really is the sane one after all!

I'm fully capable and often DO laugh at myself. Out loud. I crack me up a lot of times! Usually based on some goofy thing I did by accident or said without thinking.

A few years ago, I had the unfortunate experience of being in the presence of someone who seemed to make it his sport to tear me down and imply or suggest that I was 'dumb'. I found myself skirting around any topics that could again frame me in this light and avoided crossing paths with this individual whenever possible. But it there seemed to always be just enough material to go on; no matter what I did or said; that he would latch onto and again, reduce me to an air headed, naive woman worthy only of his pity and contempt.
I did not serve it back to him nor argue with him. Sometimes I would dismiss and ignore. Sometimes I would agree that my ignorance on certain subjects was likely funny to him. Sometimes I would just leave when I was able to because I could not stand it another minute.
Over the time, though, I continued to be kind and tried to engage in normal friendly conversations.
Slowly, the put-downs reduced and at the very least a respectful silence took their place.
However, the saddest part for me, was that another 'friend' in the same vicinity never stood up for me or told him to stop. Not once.

To make jokes about things we do not take the time to understand is a highest ignorance and arrogant pride.
To find pleasure in making someone else feel lower than us is the sign of deep-seated insecurity and personal self-hatred.

I managed to remove myself from that situation and thankfully, have not had to be there again.
But interestingly, the man who kept putting me down is now a family friend. The 'friend' who didn't have the courage to stand up for me, is no longer in my life.

What I learned about myself through that situation is that I have indeed, 'Come a long way, Baby!'. The back-handed compliments, outright mocking, tainted vulgarities and cruel innuendos didn't make me feel worse about myself or 'less-than'. They still hurt, because I felt abused and judged and stereotyped, but I knew the whole time that I was NOT what was being thrown at me. It didn't 'stick'. My identity in Jesus Christ was secure.

Puns, wit, clean jokes, riddles, quirky observations, are all things that can make us laugh without anyone feeling humiliated.
It is the mature person who is able to reserve their laughter for the kind that truly is the best medicine.
The kind that heals and brings life.


Monday, February 17, 2014

Isabel Marlene



Here at 10 pm I am back to editing photos of my nephew's new baby girl.

Isabel Marlene Toman.

She is perfect.
Beautiful.

Her older brother, his father's mini-me is all cute during the photo shoot... wants to lie down beside her on the studio blanket and with his clear blue eyes and mischievous grin points at her eyes, her mouth her nose and kisses her.
This tiny piece of heaven so recently given to us to see.... the reflection of her grandma and namesake.
Marlene.
My sister.


I knew having a nephew, one of my eldest sisters' sons, get married could mean that one day I might meet a baby girl that is my sister's first granddaughter.
Ohhh...if she were here.
She who raised three handsome, strong, tall and sturdy boys. But never a daughter.
She would be smitten.
Glowing in the grandma-love and pride of a wee one so delicate and feminine and precious.

Precious Isabel.

I wrap you in the wedding dress I've saved... salvaged from your Grandpa's purge of all things unnecessary to his going forward after your Grandma Marlene had died from brain cancer.
I held it thinking SOME day maybe there would be a granddaughter...
and here you are.


And I lay it carefully down.
And I lay you on it.
And I wrap the old lace and gauzy white fabric around your new baby skin.
You smile.
The wedding dress... a promise, in sickness and health for richer or poor...til death do we part...
Too young to die...only 44..... she never met her daughter-in-law, grandson or you....
But she talked about the 'what if's'...and here you are. The first female for her :)

Click.
I take so many photos... yet you smiling while wrapped in your grandma's wedding gown is the shot that now makes me weep as I edit photos.

Sweet girl.
I am not your grandma, but I am your great-aunt, and I too loved this one whom you have only met in eternity.

<3 p="">

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Snow Falling



Lacey snowflakes
icy candy-floss of winter
melting tingling and burning my face
my tongue
my breath

hushed whispering chilling enticement to my senses
as I, moving through the passive evergreens
catch faint the rhythms of voiceless music
snow waltzing descends
suspended

dreamy dance in time frozen



how quiet it gets when the snow falls.
like a feather blanket being wrapped around you....
sounds muffled....
air being purified one tiny snowflake at a time...

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Bittersweet Christmas



I'm Celebrating Jesus coming to earth and changing the world ...and how His Spirit changed my life... and I'm thinking of the loved ones who are partying with the Angels every day in Heaven in the very presence of God. 

It's a bittersweet time....Christmas. 

And for all those who are grieving today, who have lost a loved one especially this past year, I pray comfort and the ministry of Angels to you. 

And I pray you can allow the grief to illuminate the truth that you had the capacity for such love and joy! 
May we each allow our loss to expand our soul to greater depths of love and joy even though we will inevitably suffer sorrow again. 

Love is worth the risk.

God risked it all...for Love 

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16

Heidi and her Dad/Christmas 2005

miss you

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Nativity


I am painting the details on every single nativity character that has been carefully cut out of 1"x4" dressed pine boards.
This I am doing for my grandchildren.
Each family will receive a Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus and his Manger, Asian Wiseman, African Wiseman, European Wiseman, Shepherd, Sheep, Angel and Donkey.
Times THREE.
It's a lot of tracing and cutting and sanding and painting and varnishing.

Why-oh-Why did I ever START THIS this close to Christmas!!!?
Will the grandkids care how much time and love I poured into this?
Not likely.
BUT that's okay. ha!

Once, I made a similar set for my children and foster children to have.... to be able to touch and move about as we talked about the Real meaning of Christmas and allowed them to re-enact it whenever they wanted to and I remember how they did so often.

And then, tonight, as I'm trying to paint the Angel's faces, I start to cry.

Something I read that makes me miss my mom.
I didn't have my mom to see and help me 'turn things around' with the wisdom of her years, when I was in the pressure-cooker of a crazy busy life.
She was dying for 5 years while I parented young children and tried to be present to her and still run a home.
And then she was gone.

I failed more than I succeeded I've since learned.
And learning it shredded my heart. My identity.

So now, when I see my own daughters being amazing moms I am blessed and oh-so-grateful, that they have learned from my inefficiencies.
and.... I do my best to be available if I can help,
to give them things they need for the kids, to encourage and support them emotionally, to help them make their lives and homes and experience a good one.

And I make wooden Nativity characters .... so their children can re-enact the story of Christmas.
And hopefully begin a tradition for their family for many years to come.


Monday, July 01, 2013

A Friend....



How well do we feel we 'know' someone?

Our friends who know us and STILL accept and love us even when our flaws, failures, idiosyncrasies, irritations, and weaknesses have been exposed are truly the friends with whom we feel safest.

I believe this level of acceptance only comes as a realization of our own frailties and weaknesses has been faced and graciously embraced as part of what makes us US.



Thursday, June 27, 2013

Touched


We never know whom we are impacting.
Whose life may be altered by having crossed our path.
Perhaps significant to us or an interaction we have long forgotten.
And then....
Every so often...
We meet someone whose imprint on our soul leaves us changed forever.
The fingerprints of God... soul tattoos.

Für immer. 

Monday, May 13, 2013

Heidi Michelle...

 This photo with her mom, my sister Sharon, and I was the last time she had dinner at my house and the last photo she willingly let me take for public use.
This photo of Heidi on her bike were from a whole photo session I did for her at her request. :)



It's still surreal...that my beautiful niece is no longer alive here on earth. I hope to find the emotional 'space' to write more soon, but for now, here is her obituary that I was given the privilege of putting together the morning she died. I had only 2 hours sleep and 2 hours notice, but thankfully, was able to cover the essentials without leaving out the heart.



Heidi Thompson
Thompson, Heidi Michelle (Gascho)
Peacefully surrounded by her loving parents Sharon and Paul Gascho and dear husband Ryan Thompson, Heidi Michelle Thompson (Gascho), in her 29th year, passed away early Saturday morning, May 4, 2013 at Sakura House in Woodstock, Ontario. Our beautiful brown-eyed Heidi was born November 9, 1984 in Stratford General Hospital. At the time of her death Heidi and Ryan were residing in Stratford, Ontario. Heidi is survived by her dear husband, Ryan Thompson, loving parents, Sharon and Paul Gascho (Stratford), siblings ; Chris (Lindsay) Gascho of Toronto, Brandon (Fiona) Gascho of Stratford, Joy (Shaine) Kubassek of Listowel; nieces and nephews ; Trinity, Jade, Liam, Zion, Chenia and Josiah. Parents- in-law: Jackie (Paul) Thompson of Harriston, Rick (Marie) of Listowel, brother-in-law Shawn Thompson (Laura) and daughter Phoenix of Listowel. Heidi will be fondly remembered by her Grandparents, George Quinlan of NFLD, Mac and Phyllis Thompson of Listowel, Gerry (Wendy) Gascho of Wellesley and Harry Driedger of Chesley. Heidi was predeceased by her Oma Margaret Driedger, Grandma Jean Gascho, Aunt Marlene Toman, Uncle Richard Driedger, Cousin Jennifer Driedger and Grandma Verna Quinlan. Heidi lived more in her 28 years than many do in a lifetime. Her creative abilities, engaging personality and passion for all things artistic combined with a deep resonance for those on the fringes of society led to her to complete a 6 month school in Perth Australia and Youth With A Mission also serving in Albania, Jamacia, Australia and England. In 2008 during her time working with YWAM Belfast, Ireland that Heidi developed an aggressive brain tumor. Miraculously, the chemotherapy and radiation following surgery eliminated most of the tumor and Heidi was given another chance at life. During the next two years, she married her high-school sweetheart, Ryan Thompson, of Listowel, Ontario and continued using her gifts in painting, eclectic sewing and other unique hand-crafts. At the end of August, 2012, Heidi was re-diagnosed with another brain tumor. Initially, the chemo treatments prevented its growth, but by the end of March, 2013 a MRI showed two new sites of growth. At this point, Heidi chose quality of life over further invasive or chemical treatment. Heidi spent one week at Sakura House continually cared for by friends and family and by the compassionate staff of Sakura House. Heidi had a whimsical, reckless, compassionate, dramatic, carefree, flamboyant, artsy, gorgeous spirit and was loved by everyone whose life she touched. She will be missed immensely. Friends and relatives may call at Avon Mennonite Church 90 Greenwood Drive, Stratford, on Monday, May 6, 2013 from 2-4 and 7-9 p.m. The funeral service will take place at Avon Mennonite Church on Tuesday May 7, 2013 at 11:00 a.m. Interment to follow in Avondale Cemetery. As expression of sympathy donations may be made to the House of Blessing, Sakura House, Avon Mennonite Church (Sharing Fund) or the charity of one’s choice through W.G. Young Funeral Home, 430 Huron Street, Stratford. www.wgyoungfuneralhome.com 

Sunday, April 28, 2013

the dance of release






April 28, 2013

and so this morning...
I danced...

the worship team was anointed in their songs
and i knew at one point
i must dance
so
i took my shoes off
took my glasses off
and stepped into the aisle

and
danced....

i can't even remember the song at this moment...
but it had to do with worship
and i know my heart was choosing to surrender
even in the pain
even in the public display of undignified adoration
I needed to let go and dance..
right up the aisle
right to the front
and there to kneel and worship
and worship
and worship
and let go

Tuesday, December 04, 2012

Let it Go.


April 28, 2013


and so this morning...
I danced...

the worship team was anointed in their songs
and i knew at one point
i must dance
so
i took my shoes off
took my glasses off
and stepped into the aisle

and
danced....

i can't even remember the song at this moment...
but it had to do with worship
and i know my heart was choosing to surrender
even in the pain
even in the public display of undignified adoration
I needed to let go and dance..
right up the aisle
right to the front
and there to kneel and worship
and worship
and worship
and let go

Sunday, September 09, 2012

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Tender Warrior


Starshine



A cat makes a house a home someone once said....And so far, after day 3 of having the elusive Starshine lurking about my wee house, a cat also makes a house a lot HAIRIER.

I had been toying with the idea of getting a pet for some time.
I'm alone and although I don't mind THAT so much, I felt having something to nurture besides my houseplants would be a bit of therapy for my soul, perhaps.
(although I hope the cat doesn't judge my ability to love and nurture based on the appearance and health of my houseplants...)
So after several weeks of searching, I found Star on Kijiji for FREE.
She is long-haired and black. I have a black davenport, so a black cat was a priority.
She is fixed and she is so pretty.
I have only been able to hold her briefly... we're still getting familiar with each other.
I admit that the best thing so far about having a cat is using the excuse that I'm talking to the cat now, when previously I was talking out loud to myself.
The term "Crazy-Cat-Lady" has it's roots in such motives.




Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Beloved....



Last week a friend who runs a local summer camp asked if I could create 19 pieces of art with a specific word on it to be presented in 5x7" frames and given to the 19 single moms who were attending camp with their children for the week. 
The word she wanted on the art was, "BELOVED".
I agreed.

Beloved.

She didn't ask for any other word.... not "Princess", "Beautiful", "I love you", or "Daughter of God"....
BELOVED.


I went through my thousands of photos and pulled a couple dozen of photos that I felt might touch these women, especially when the word "Beloved" was put on them.
I don't know the women.... just that we are all the Beloved.
And when this word is spoken by a Beloved it touches deep and fragile areas of our woundedness and begins to bring healing. The winter begins to melt into spring.

Beloved.
Loved beyond measure, without deserving, ...flowers appear all over the earth... 

As an adjective;dear, loved, valued, prized, dearest, sweet, admired, treasured, precious, darling, worshiped, adored, cherished, revered.

As a noun; darling, love, sweet, lover, angel, loved one, sweetheart, true love, dear one, inamorata (inamorato), leibchen.

Beloved.
My soul can't dance without You. My praises all surround You.
Beloved.
My Beloved is beautiful... 

And the song "End of the Story" ~ Jon Thurlow

"I know the end of the story
I come up from the wilderness
Leaning on my Beloved...
Your love is so high
Your love is so wide
Your love is so deep
Your love is so long...

And I know it's Your love, it's written on my heart
And there is not a flood that can quench this love
And I know it's Your love, it's stronger than the grave
And death could never take me from this love

Death, nor Life, nor Angels, nor Powers
Present things, nor things in the future
Height nor depth nor any created thing
Could ever separate me from Your love

It's Your strong love, Your strong love
It's Your strong love, Your strong love..."
and to go with this....I've posted a song I've recorded (roughly....)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=wYG_xFZoHl8

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Mary's Garden





I walk a lot these days.

Twice daily the two babies I am nanny to are wrestled into the double stroller, sung little silly songs to until they're settled back and away we go.

By the time they're both sleeping I'm often entering into one of my favourite areas... the beautiful Avondale Cemetery. 

Old, majestic trees fully robed in their summer greenery, tower above me as I dare to traipse through their kingdom. 

The winding lanes and pathways up and around the side of the hill in the oldest part of the cemetery create the perfect shade. It's quiet usually. Somber. Sad. But so peaceful. And in a way, Timeless.


A sea of aging tombstones standing, leaning, fading, but still echoing back in their deeply etched stone a simple epitaph. Sometimes only a name and a date. 

Last week, I saw one that I must have walked by dozens of times but never noticed the name.
The name;
Margaret Mary Garden.



I stopped dead. ( figuratively speaking )

I've never seen my name "Mary Margaret"  (or the reverse) on any tombstones. Even my mother for whom I am named has only "Margaret" not her middle name "Mary" on her headstone.

I stood there... asking Father for insight.... you see...recently the whole metaphor of my life, my heart, my most intimate self being a garden has been ...well... Growing!

Of course, having the name Mary means that I've had people rattle off the nursery rhyme to me for my entire life.
"Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?"

How is my garden? My soul?

It feels as though it is dry.... arid... lonely...  but there have been such incredible oasis too.
Am I keeping it protected? Are the weeds being pulled? Trees being pruned? Rodents and rascals being trapped and kept out? Diseases and destroying pests being identified and eliminated? In this drought, am I pushing deeper with the roots of faith into the soil and foundation of God's Love, Grace and Mercy?

I want this season; this new desert time; to bring me an appreciation for the desert garden in it's unique beauty.
So I can say as Jesus did in a garden long ago... "Not my will, Father, but your's be done.

Monday, July 09, 2012

A Future Only He Can See

So many people could have said this quote I've posted above...but having it said by Corrie Ten Boom gives it powerful resonance.

 Corrie Ten Boom and her family were Christians in Holland who built a secret room in their house and hid Jews in it during World War II.
They got caught, and were taken to concentration camps, where they all were killed or died except for Corrie. She then went on to travel around the world telling her story at churches and letting people know that "There is no hole that is so deep, that God is not deeper still"
 (Corrie's story in her own words is found here on youtube... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VlmxNv6kedk&feature=related ")
 (and if you haven't watched the movie "The Hiding Place" based on her true story; PLEASE do... here's a trailer; 'http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YWg47sLwlHk&feature=related' )

 In what seems minor in comparison, is my life.
 I'm now alone. By my choice and by the cumulative impact of choices made by those in my life.
 I never imagined I would be here.

And I tremble with fear at times at the acceleration of things set in motion. The shifting uncertainty of foundations cracked and now crumbling in my life.

 But it is mine to live and to journey to wholeness found only in the One who counts each freckle on my face, catches each tear I cry, calms the raging storm in my soul as I wrestle with the surrender of a future only He knows and by which He is preparing me with each person and situation I encounter.

 Nothing is coincidence.
 God's Timing is perfect.
 Outcome uncertain.
 Grow in love and grace.

Thursday, July 05, 2012

The Ocean Floor

By AUDIO ADRENALINE:
 "The mistakes I've made
 That caused pain I could have done without
 All my selfish thought All my pride
 The things I hide You have forgot about
 They're all behind you
 They'll never find you
 They're on the ocean floor
 Your sins are forgotten
 They're on the bottom
 Of the ocean floor
 My misdeeds All my greed
 All the things that haunt me now
 They're not a pretty sight to see
 But they're wiped away
 By a mighty, mighty wave
 A mighty, mighty wave
 Your sins are erased
 And they are no more
 They're out on the ocean floor
 Take them away
 To return no more
 Take them away
 To the ocean floor"

Tuesday, May 08, 2012

No Place Like 'Home'....


In my lifetime, I have physically moved my belongings sixteen times. 
Fourteen of those times happened after I became married. 
Five times, I have moved to a significantly different geographic location. 
This means; not only the arduous task of packing and unpacking. Refitting, recycling, repainting.
 New neighbours, new bylaws, new directions, new address, new garbage schedule, new blue-box, new phone number, new habits, new patterns... 
But letting go of all the old. Hoping that something new can also be good. 
This past time, I have moved alone. 
Home is not a house.
Home is not even the neighbourhood or the memories attached to it. Home is where your heart has the peace and acceptance to kick back and be at ease. Love, mercy, grace, forgiveness, acceptance, safety, healing, ... Where my soul says to yours, Ah.... it's YOU! I've been waiting for YOU. And the shared silence is the ministry of presence. Home.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Patience in the Desert


Dear Friend,
...this could very well be one of those type of emails that one regrets sending the day after they send it...good that I trust you...
:)

it is late...a storm rages...
I am worn out after having spent the day painting ...

who am i?
where am i going? :)
who are you? what is your destiny, my beloved friend?

a little late in the day to be thinking of destiny...
but while i was painting was listening to cd's of a pastor/speaker ... something to do with finding and fulfilling your destiny...
was really powerful teaching and struck many chords in my heart...
i felt faith rise up again.... weary eyes reopened
i felt too the sting of correction

something i learned again...tonight... just now...
i failed, my friend....
i failed too
i fell...
but; not too far ; His hand is not shortened that it cannot save....

i learned that again... what i see as His standard for me, is not necessarily meant for others
and how arrogant and legalistic of me to say it should be
but how disobedient for me to disregard it in my own life
the standard that He shows me...
He says to me "I set before you death and life; choose life"

it is for my life, I must choose... not yours or my other friends' or anyone else...
but the life and the call the purpose and destiny that He has designed for me before the foundations of the world

i must obey and let the burning take it's pound of flesh
i must follow...
the narrow road which takes me up and farther in... higher...
no compromise for things of principle
and more grace for the humanity He died for...
this is what i want
but there is a cost
and for me
this cost is things that i see dropping from me like rotted fruit off the vine
if i let it go...and let Him prune from me more of what might be good; or okay;
but not best for where I am aching and longing to be...
i want Him; more and more of HIM

:)
and so...
i apologize to you ....funny friend..
if in any way i have put my call to obey Him onto you..
and i feel the loneliness of it already. :)
I wish my soul could be of help to you in some way...

i ramble... sorry
do i speak in riddles?
yes... but
no...
you will know or will not know
or will not care to know!
ha
and it is late, late, late...
and i spin
and cry
and God; let me choose LIFE.
Love; covers all... covers and endures...
even and maybe moreso in the desert
do you have patience for me here?
:)
ahhhh....
He is closer than my skin
breathe..~
~ little one